#mel x jake

[stephjw]

OTP photo dump

Melanie Smooter & Jake Perry

[seenoversundown]

Come Back For Me : Chapter One

Danny Wagner x Melody (Fem OC)

Warnings: Cute wholesome mom & daughter bonding time, the Kiszka Twins, mentions of death/grieving, ASL is used throughout this fic, and a little reminiscing.

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Melody is out with Iris, thinking that they’re just running some errands. Well, that is until some familiar faces from her past abruptly change the course of her day.

Author's Note: AND WERE BACK, BABY!

I’m excited to give you this story and finally get Danny and Mel on the map for everyone. This is a pretty hefty shift from where I last left you— but I think it’ll be a fun change for all of us 😏🤭

*Disclaimer- this story comes before Charlotte exists. There is an order to these stories, but my brain simply couldn’t behave when writing. If you have questions, my DM’s are always open!*

Older - Gracie Abrams "I went quiet, And you went cold, Guess that happened when we got older."

Nothing has changed. 

Walking through this Hannaford, all I see are the same employees; the store hasn’t been renovated and it feels like I’ve been transported back to high school. Running through the aisles with the boys, hoping not to get kicked out. It’s shocking the things we got away with then. 

Flash forward at least four years later; I’m toting my daughter around to grab a few things that we need for dinner. She’s content in the cart with her little stuffed animal, so I can quickly grab what I need. Thank god, honestly. I’m pretty sure she just enjoys hanging out with me at this point; we’re best friends, in my head at least. She doesn’t really have a choice right now. 

Not having a job means that I can come here in the middle of the day when nobody else is here– not that Maine is that busy in general, to be quite honest. After a few years of living on the outskirts of Boston, everywhere feels like a ghost town to me. Not being stuck in ungodly traffic is nice, though, I’ll take the wins where I can get them these days.

Rolling up to the cashier, the lady smiles at Iris and waves. Don’t do it, I think to myself. 

“Hi, sweetheart. Do you want a sticker?” And you did it.. Okay. 

I tap Iris’s arm lightly, her adorable little face glancing up at me. 

‘Do you want a sticker?’ I sign to her. Her smile was enough, but she nodded quickly with a little ‘mmm’ sound. 

“She would love one,” I tell the cashier, smiling softly at her. Iris reached out to take it from her and signed ‘Thank you’ back to her. I hesitate but then spit out, “Oh, um, she says thank you.”

“Well, she’s very welcome.” 

The rest of the interaction was pretty quiet as she rang us up. I don’t mind when people want to talk to her, but we’re both learning ASL together, so it’s not always easy. 

‘Mom wants coffee,’ I tell her as I buckle her into her car seat. She just giggles back at me while I pretend to fall asleep. I don’t know what I did right in order to have a generally happy child, but I thank god every day for it. She loves being out of the house, which bodes well when you’re the only parent. 

‘Ready?’ I ask her, peeking in the rearview mirror to see her nodding. 

Driving through the Old Port is always weird, knowing these places and how to get there, but not having done so in so long. I missed this. All the brick buildings, the small locally owned stores, and the restaurants, are definitely something I longed for while living in a city. 

It only takes a few minutes to get reasonably close to the coffee shop I’ve been craving. Finding parking can be a pain with all the one-way streets but, thankfully, this time of day isn’t terrible. Packing and unpacking my child is one of my many talents at this point— my arms have never been so toned in my life. 

She knows just to stand close to me while I lock the car. Once the little honk sound happens, I pull her up to spare myself the outrageously slow walk. Before I can even finish situating her, my heart jumps into my throat. 

“Melody?”

I haven’t been back here all that long and somehow haven’t really run into anybody that I would talk to. It was all of two seconds before I turned to see him, but I felt frozen in the moment. I haven’t had to introduce anybody to Iris yet, and I was kind of hoping to avoid it a little longer.  My head whips around, not expecting to see him.  Josh? 

“Oh my god, hi!” Not thinking I would be so excited, I moved a little closer to him, shifting Iris up onto my hip. 

His voice sounds the same when he asks, “How are you, dear?” 

“Oh, I’m okay,” I tell him, shaking my head subtly. Before I can return the question, I see his mouth ready to fire off another question. 

“Who is this?” He gestures to Iris, not getting too close to her yet. I can see her eyeing his hair already, though. 

I move some of her curls to make sure her sweet face is visible before telling him, “Her name’s Iris.” She just beams at him. Tapping her belly and then doing a little wave at him, she takes her turn to wave. 

I know that Josh loves kids; he always has– probably because he just a big kid himself. His eyes light up when she looks at him and he just coos at her little smile. 

“How old is she? Hi, beautiful,” He asks but is immediately distracted by her.  

I laugh as I watch him, “She’s three, but she can’t hear you.”

His eyebrows shoot up, “Deaf?” 

“Practically, she’s in the severe hearing loss category. We don’t know what happened, but she’s a happy little thing regardless.” 

‘Nice to meet you,’ Josh signs slowly to her, making her laugh and lean against my shoulder. 

All the thoughts in my head halted as he signed to her. I blankly stared at him for a second before I asked, “You.. know ASL?” 

“I was friends with one of the Deaf students in a college class, just picked up on it,” he tells me, with a shrug. 

Suddenly, it hits me. There is a whole person attached to him. Quickly looking over to them and spitting out, “I’m sorry– I’m Melody, and you are?”

“Quinn! I didn’t want to interrupt,” they respond sweetly; the smile on them could light up a room. I don’t know how to describe the outfit they’re wearing, but it is very clear to me why them and Josh work together. The two of them just look cute together; I can’t imagine that Quinn wouldn’t be a creative person if they were in a relationship with Josh. 

“Ahh, yes! This is my partner! I was caught off guard by the little angel,” Josh chimed back in, looking over to Quinn with a quiet, “Sorry, bug– I haven’t seen Melody since.. Oh goodness, has it actually been four years?” 

“Probably,” I sigh. “God, that’s so long?” 

He nods, letting out quietly,  “It is, it is. When did you move back?” 

“It’s a long story, but,” I breathe out.  “I just moved in with my dad and this one.” 

I had been living in the Boston area for college with my mother. She moved down there when I found out I was pregnant with Iris to help make sure everything went smoothly. It was wonderful getting that time together; nothing prepares you for being a mom, so having mine with me at the beginning was incredibly helpful. 

She unfortunately had been sick for a while, and I lost her a few months back. It’s hard to think about, but I’m glad she’s not miserable anymore. Living in Boston as a single mom just became unreasonable. Plus, staying in the area was just making me depressed. So, I came home and moved in with my dad. 

He took us in happily– I don’t know who needed it more. The three of us have fun together so I’m sure he’s excited to get some time with Iris, especially now that she’s at a fun age. It’s a different dynamic with him, obviously, but I appreciate the fact that he was so willing to help us out. 

“Well, I’m so sorry it’s not the happiest of reasons, but it’s nice to see your face again,” Josh’s hand landing on my arm as he tells me. 

“It’s okay,” I say, with a slight smile, so Iris can’t pick up on what’s being said. Chuckling as I tell him,  “The worst part is trying to find a fucking job at this point.” 

“Oh!” he basically yelps, tapping my arm a few times. “You know what.. Give my boss a call. I think we’re actually hiring.” Winking at me– that’s suspicious. 

“That would be amazing?” Surprised that he was so quick to help. I hand him my phone, “Just text me the number, and I’ll call in a little bit.” Watching him happily add his number to my phone and text himself quickly. 

“There you go, darling,” he says, handing it back to me.  “I’m sure we have something that you could do, but we will let you get going so Miss Iris doesn’t get too antsy!” 

Carefully pulling him into a side hug, I whisper,  “Thank you so much, really.” 

“Anything to help,” he says, his smile beams at Iris as he reaches out to gently give her hand a little squeeze. 

“Nice meeting you,” I say, smiling at Quinn. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around!”

They excitedly let out, “Yes you too!!”

Both of them waving at Iris and giggling as she tucks her face against me– she is the biggest flirt known to man I swear. She gives them a small wave back before we start our trek to find coffee. Breathing out more air than I expected, a small smile creeps onto my face. Maybe things will turn around a little quicker than I thought. 

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We take our time walking to grab some coffee, looking into all the shop windows as she points out things she likes or thinks are funny. It does not take much to make you laugh when you’re three. 

I never thought I would want a child so young, but honestly, she’s probably the best thing that happened to me. Definitely put a lot of things into perspective for me and I feel like I have a better grasp of who I am now.

She makes me laugh all the time, especially because of how friendly she is to everyone. I swear she wants to befriend anyone who holds eye contact for more than a second. Lucky for her, she’s adorable, so people aren’t one to say ‘no’ to that. 

She batted her lashes at the nice barista taking our order but got shy when he waved at her. Grabbing my coffee and her snack from the end of the counter, we found a seat outside. She’s three. I can’t let her eat this cookie inside and watch the nice employees sigh when they see how many crumbs are about to hit the ground. 

‘Good?’ I ask her. 

She just grins up at me, still chewing the bite she took. I’ll take that as a yes. Sipping on my coffee as she picks away at this cookie, just enjoying the sun for a few minutes. 

I pulled my phone out and saw a text sitting there. 

Josh: Hi! Here’s the boss’s number :) I’ll let him know that you’ll be calling so he knows to keep an eye out for you! 

Me: thank you again! 

Once she’s about destroyed the cookie, I hold her out and wiggle her around a few times, making her laugh. I do not need more cookie crumbs getting squished into her car seat. Her laugh could brighten anyone’s day; she truly is such a good kid. 

Walking a different way back to the car so she can have fun looking at new store windows. It’s a lot of her pointing, and me trying to decipher what she’s pointing at. 

Something about the Old Port just makes me feel at home. To be fair, we spent a lot of time in this area, between trying to sneak into bars for local shows and going on dates once Daniel had his license. 

He really was such a good boyfriend back in the day. Always giving me rides, even if I told him it wasn’t a big deal. He would take me to different restaurants out here all the time after he started his first job. Parking in the first spot he could find, just as an excuse to have to walk so we could spend more time together.

It’s hard to believe we were so inseparable for so long, and now, I haven’t said a single word to him in at least four years. But it’s okay, really. Times have changed, and I have more important things to worry about now— like how I desperately hope this kid falls asleep on the drive home. 

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 I took the longest way home, and my plan worked. Peeking into my rearview mirror to see her sweet face out cold, thank god. Not that it’s the worst to do things while she’s awake, but when I want to focus on something important, the last thing I need is her trying to get me to play or, even worse, have a meltdown. 

Carefully scooping her up out of the car seat, we manage to make it inside with her still asleep. I slip into her room and tuck her into bed so I can hopefully get this phone call done. As I go to leave, I whisper, “Love you, baby.”

Practically falling into the couch, I stare at the texts from Josh. It would really be so helpful if I could work with him. It is very much Josh to do something like this. He has such a pure heart; too much love in that heart of his. 

“Just call him,” I whisper, in hopes that I can pep talk myself. You need this for Iris. Everything I do at this point is to make sure she gets the life she deserves; becoming a mom has really shifted a lot of my perspective on things.  

Tapping on the number, here goes nothing– I listen to it ring maybe twice before they pick up. 

“Hello?”

I take a shallow breath before saying, “Hi, this is Melody. Josh gave me your number because you may be hiring?” 

“Mel! Yes, he mentioned bumping into you— how are you?” Why does he sound familiar..? Oh– 

“Wait..” I hesitate before asking, “Jake?” 

He just hums back a quiet “Mhmm.”

“Oh god, he must have given me your number by accident,” I say with a sigh, my hand immediately rubbing over my face. 

He sighs along with me, “Did he not tell you?” 

“Tell me what?” 

“Ah, for fucks sake, Josh— he works for me,” he tells me. 

“Oh?” I squeak out, whispering,  “I figured it would end up the other way around, but..doing what?”

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that,” he breathes out.  “I own a bar in the Old Port. He bartends for me.” 

“Oh shit, sorry,” I let out an uncomfortable laugh. “You would own a bar.” Thinking of the handful of parties I’d attended where he was a bit more drunk than I’m sure he’d like to admit. 

“I’m not that wild anymore,” his soft giggle along with me, telling me, “I do absolutely need more help though if you are interested.” 

“I don’t really know what I could do, but I am desperate.” 

Jake has always been the calmer of the two, so it was less shocking when he asked, “Why don’t you swing by tomorrow if you have a chance, and we can figure something out?” 

“Are you sure?” I know I probably sound nervous, but shit, if I can get a job with people I know, that would be amazing. 

He chuckles, “Of course, I’m sure.” 

“Okay,” I breathe out quietly. “I really appreciate it.” 

Jake and I were never particularly close growing up, but I did spend an awful lot of time around him. Well, with all of them, honestly– given that Daniel is best friends with Sam, and Sam always wanted his brothers around, the five of us did a lot together. 

Jake was typically overshadowed by his brothers because he was the quieter one, which makes picturing him owning a bar even harder. But I definitely know the other two very well. I was a little surprised at how pleasant Josh was, even going as far as offering me a potential job. 

I never had issues with Josh, but given the situation with Daniel, I figured he would have been more hesitant. To be fair, it’s been a while since I’ve seen him, and maybe he’s still the same Josh that I knew growing up. God—I hope he is. 

It makes me wonder how Daniel is doing, but not enough to try to reach out to him. We haven’t spoken since the night we broke up, but now that I’m back here, I feel like it’s only a matter of time before I run into him. 

“Just let me know when you’re gonna head over,” Jake’s voice brings me back to the conversation. “I’m always in the bar, so whenever you have time, works for me.” 

It feels like a weight has been taken off my chest. I nod my head, as if he can see it, saying, “Of course. Thank you so much. I will see you tomorrow.” 

The sense of relief, knowing that there’s a chance I’ll have some sort of a job in the next twenty-four hours, is unexplainable. I never thought I would spend time with the Kiszka twins as an adult, but I’ve never been more excited to see them. They were always fun to be around, even if the chaos was a bit overwhelming sometimes.  I just can’t shake the feeling that where there’s a Kiszka, Daniel will probably come around. It’s been years; I think I can handle it, even if he does show up at some point. I’d like to believe it’s been enough time since we spoke that we could be adults about everything. Also, it’s been so long at this point; there’s no chance he could still be upset.. Right? I kind of want to see him eventually, not like that, but we spent so much time together that we could at least be friends now.. maybe. There’s no use in dwelling on it; we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

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Chapter Two

CBFM Masterpost | Masterlist | Playlist

Taglist:

@gvfsstardust @myleftsock @imleavingyoufornewyork @mindastreamofcolours-deactivate @dont-go-home-without-me

@literal-dead-leaf @lizzys-sunflower @mackalah

@klarxtr @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @i-love-gvf @takenbythemadness

@ladywhimsymoon @earthgrlsreasy @peaceloveunitygvf

@gretavanfan @musicspeaks

@jazzyfigz @smoking-jakelane

@demonrat444 @hollyco @josh-iamyour-mama @wrldabomination @broken0mens

@whereiskeara @gvf-luna @lilbitx @gvfstuddedmajesty @katuschka @chloeshell1219

@scoreofinfantryvines @sanguinebats @anythingforjtk

@brokenbellschipbunkersverion @musicislove3389

@allof--mylove @dyslexicchild13

@nicoleghost18 @monkeylaura627 @fleetingjake

@cheersdannyx2

[summerongrand]

Lucy had THE PERFECT opportunity to create a UC nanny persona

using Sava Wu's nanny alias "Karen" and she didn't 💔

[devieuls]

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　

Okay my beautiful flowers, I finished making the Sully family bots (the male part). Meet Jake Sully AI Bot. With this bot you can do Nsfw, Fluff, Angst… anything. ;)

The story is based on that of Avatar 1 BUT in reverse. Jake takes the role of Neytiri, Tom (Jake’s brother) takes the place of Neytiri’s sister and Tsu'Tey is also replaced by a female character. Jake is Olo'eyktan and has a future partner who will be his Tsahìk (currently Tsakarem), the Tsahìkk is Mo'at. But what if Jake, after rescuing you and taking you to his village, started shamelessly flirting with you? He’s kind of a juicy Asshole.

If you talk to him, let me know if it works.

-Mel

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　

[melsimps]

Hey, so I finished my fic on ao3, in case anyone wants to read it!!!!

It's 39k words.

Moooostly fluff, some slight angst (and quite a bit of smut).

Moon Knights being dads (father figures) to a pair of kids.

Uh, yeah...

[builtbybrokenbells]

Melodic Memories | Track 1: Wild Horses - The Rolling Stones

In a tattered old box shoved deep down in the corner of an overfilled closet, a lifetimes worth of memories lie dormant at the bottom waiting to be rediscovered.

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 15k

Warnings: angst, crying, heartbreak, high school breakups, divorce, estranged parent/strained parental relationship, depression, high school drama, anxiety, mentions of drinking, mentions of hookups/one night stands, unrequited love, PTSD mentions/explanations of reactions and behaviours due to PTSD, mentions of addiction/drugs, smoking, swearing, best friend fluff, sorry if i miss any!

Here we go!! I’m so excited to share this. this story is very near and dear to my heart as all of these songs are very special to me in one way or another. I will warn this is a bit of a slowburn, and there’s a lot of flashbacks/memories in the chapters to showcase the extent of the relationship between the characters. As always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🤍 I can’t wait to hear what you guys think

I usually have a listen while reading section, and it’s mostly a suggestion, but it’s imperative that you listen to the song stated in the title at least before reading, as every chapter is directly related to each one. If that’s not your thing, at least give the lyrics a quick read over! Much love 🫶🏻

SIX YEARS LATER

“Holy fuck, you have a lot of stuff.” Your best friend let out a dramatic huff as she dropped an overflowing box to the ground. You looked back at her over your shoulder, letting out a small chuckle as she pushed her long hair away from her forehead. She was tired, that much was obvious, and so were you. Still, despite your aching bodies and worn down minds, the two of you persevered with faith that the end goal would be worth all of the suffering.

“So do you.” You reminded her, folding a t-shirt and setting it neatly atop a pile of clothes you had been focused on. “Don’t hear me complaining about it.”

“Yeah, as if.” She scoffed. You could hear the roll of her eyes in her tone, striking a small smile on your face as she took a step towards you. “All you do is complain.”

“Yeah, ‘cause it pisses you off.” You grinned, grabbing an old pair of jeans from the mound of clothes you pulled from your closet. You looked over the tired material, your lips turning down into a frown as you tossed them into a pile on the ground, knowing there was no sense in keeping them when they looked one wear away from disintegrating.

“I’m kidding, you know that.” She assured you, making it clear that she wasn’t truly as upset as her words seemed. She began moving another box from your bed to the hallway, huffing as she bargained with the weight of the item. She was stacking them outside your door to allow for some more space inside the already tiny room.

Despite the smallness and the outdated decor, it felt nice to be back, sleeping on the same comfortable mattress you’d grown so used to when you lived at home. In truth, the lack of space was mostly credited to your oversized bed; you had begged your mom for a king size, asking for it for every Christmas and birthday from the ages of ten to sixteen until she finally cracked and made the purchase. Turns out, it was a great purchase, because six years and a graduate degree later, you and your best friend were sharing it while you prepared to move into your own apartment a few towns over.

You had traveled to Mel’s hometown almost a month prior, tearing apart her childhood bedroom just the same as you were doing to your own. You packed boxes full of her belongings, spending some quality time with her parents while learning and laughing about the funniest of all her childhood stories. Just like her, her parents were fun, free spirited and more accepting than even you could comprehend. They took you in with open arms, extending their gratitude for loving their daughter so dearly while she was so far away from home.

In truth, the pleasure was all yours, because in your six years at university, you felt as though Mel was the reason that you not only survived, but flourished. The two of you clicked instantly when you met, finding each other during your first week of freshman year in an intro to classic literature class. You bonded over your mutual dislike for your monotone professor who had to make an effort to be so disinterested in her own syllabus, and from there, the rest was history.

“You know, I actually liked Jane Eyre before I took this class.” You muttered under your breath, casting a sideways glance at the girl sitting next to you.

Her dirty blonde hair hung over her face, her eyes focused on a piece of empty paper in an unused notebook as she clutched a black pen in her hand. Every time the professor would switch slides on her PowerPoint, she would jump to write something down, but stop once she realized that once again, the gray haired woman was spewing nothing of significance.

Her skin was sunkissed, like she had spent all summer on the beach (or in a tanning bed—who were you to judge?), and her clothes were cute, but comfortable. Her brown eyes flickered to meet yours, her head turning ever so slightly to give you a glimpse of her face through her thick locks of wavy hair. The warmth within them was familiar, like you had seen them before in someone else you loved so dearly. You swallowed hard, forcing the thought out of your head. You were nervous, yet still excited at the thought of making a new friend, wondering if your words held any value to her, or if she would tell you to shut up.

Since moving to town, you hadn’t found one person you clicked with. You met lots of rich boys who threw their money in your face in hopes of convincing you to sleep with them, and plenty of girls who turned their nose up at your jeans with holes in the knees. They all looked like they stepped out of a magazine, and you felt completely out of place as you tried to break free from your small town habits. You dressed the same as you did in senior year, barely understanding how to be a university student and definitely lacking in the fashion department. You wore makeup to parties, but never anywhere else, mostly because in the years prior, you never felt the need to impress anyone.

Your long term relationship in high school left you more than secure with yourself, happy if you were comfortable and confident without any external aids. Now that he wasn’t by your side, you realized just how dearly he loved you, because without a pristine outward appearance, all of the university-goers seemed to turn their heads as you walked by. You had yet to find anyone to make friends with, and definitely no romantic interests as you tried to mend the hole in your heart that formed when you left your boyfriend behind to start anew. You were lonely, and more importantly, desperate to find someone to talk to.

“UPenn, Ivy League with a 7% acceptance rate and an English program better than any of their competitors, if you survive it.” She cracked a small smile, keeping her voice hushed as she joined in on the joke. “Only place in the world you can pay 20k a year for someone to put you to sleep.” You bit down on your lip, forcing yourself to swallow back the laugh stuck in your throat. You had sat beside the unnamed girl for your first three classes of the semester, but never found the courage to speak to her until that moment. She was the first person you had met that radiated a bit of life, something unique and alluring in her eyes that you couldn’t quite place. More than that, when you looked at her, you felt an overwhelming sense of familiarity. You were incredibly appreciative that she reciprocated any of your efforts at all.

“I think she put herself to sleep on Wednesday.” You confessed, recalling her slumped posture as she sat at her desk, waiting too long to engage in the group discussion after assigning an individual comprehension activity.

“Think she’s on her way there now, actually.” The girl nodded towards the front, suppressing a grin as she noticed the professor's drooping eyelids and extended bout of silence. The two of you shared a silent giggle, shaking shoulders and hurting bellies as you used all of your energy to silence yourselves in fear of getting caught. “I’m Mel, by the way.” She said, introducing herself after she calmed herself down.

“Y/N.” You replied, feeling better than you had in days. It felt nice to laugh, especially with someone who seemed to adorn the same sense of humour as your own. “Mel… is that short for Melanie? Or are you just ‘Mel’, cause that would be cool. Mysterious, even.”

“Neither, actually.” She chuckled, shifting in her seat so she was facing you a little better. “It’s short for ‘Mélange’, which is the stupidest fucking name I’ve ever heard.” She gave you a moment to digest the fact before explaining further, noticing your curious eyes as you held back another laugh. “My parents had me young, during their hippy-dippy era when they smoked too much weed and dressed like they were headed to Woodstock. Apparently it means ‘a mixture of dissimilar elements’, because I was made from different parts of them, or whatever. To me, it sounds like a really weird way of saying they had sex, and I really don’t think it meant that much to them back then. Probably just wanted to be the first to name their kid something, then realized how ridiculous it sounded so they had to come up with a story about it.”

“That’s… cool, though.” You stifled another laugh, finding her expression comedic as she rehashed the same story she used to explain her name every time someone asked.

“Yeah, cool unless it’s your own. Try growing up with that name and trying to survive the American public school system.” She shuddered at the thought, but a smile still lingered on her lips, telling you that she truly didn’t care that much anymore. “What about you? Your name short for anything, or are you just cool like that?”

From there, the title of best friends went without question. You did everything together, ranging from schoolwork to trips to the grocery store, hating the thought of being apart even while doing the most mundane tasks. You had made a pact to live together after graduation, unable to digest the idea of being apart when your university days ended, and you took the promise seriously. Since then, you did everything you could to ensure it happened, including travelling to her home state to pack up her shit so long as she promised to help you with yours. You both decided to go in the direction of teaching with your degrees, so you thought that if you lived together, you even had a shot of getting hired at the same school. Though, she seemed more keen on teaching younger students, and you leaned more towards high school.

There was lots still up in the air, especially without a solid job offer in line, but the two of you were determined to make it work, knowing that if you had each other, you could get through anything. Your mom was enough of a saint to house the two of you while you figured your shit out, and that’s what you were doing; packing, reminiscing, applying, and enjoying your life before things got too hectic again.

Despite it being manual labour, you quite enjoyed the experience of packing up your belongings, even though it did feel a bit melancholic at times. With every item you picked up, you were reminded of memories you’d shoved so far down that they were nearly forgotten. Although not all of them were the best, they were still important, and they showed you how far you had come when sometimes it felt like you made no progress at all. Mel was having a fantastic time for a whole different reason, finding your dramatic retelling of stories greatly comedic, and getting her first pick at the clothes you were planning on donating.

Being back at home with your family was different than it was all those years ago. Your mom, who had finally come to terms with the fact you were an adult, drank wine with you both in the evening as she got to know your best friend beyond what the surplus of FaceTime calls allowed over the years. You went on errands with her when you wanted to get away from packing, and enjoyed the things you once took for granted. Some nights, when she found herself a little too tipsy and reminiscent on the years that passed so quickly, she sat before you, weepy-eyed as she professed how proud she was of you. You felt like you were learning a whole new side of her, rather than the strict but loving one you knew all of that time ago. She was a woman who hurt and cried just as much as you did, who always put her kids first and held herself together when she was falling apart, just for the sake of being the rock in the house. You found yourself growing a whole new respect and a whole different kind of love for her, and you were grateful for the opportunity to see it.

Your younger sister, who was also staying at home for the summer, found herself hanging out in your room more often than not. There was much less arguments over who was spending more time in the bathroom, and no more mean words shared between the two of you that once flew so fast. In the early hours of the night, you finally had the chance to have the heart-to-hearts you missed out on when you were angry at each other over nothing important. She had grown up just as much as you had, and it almost pained you to see a woman standing in the shoes of the little girl you best knew her as.

Being in your hometown was different, and you had spent little time there since your studies began. Mostly for a few days during the holidays, and rarely any other time. When Mel pitched the idea of moving out of dorms and into an apartment, the visits grew much less frequent and when they did happen, it wasn’t usually for very long. You didn’t have many friends left in Frankenmuth, if any at all. The town was strange, a former village in which you had built a life that was now completely abandoned. Shops you used to love closed down for good and replaced with something new, old hideaways being changed into modern corporate hellscapes. Every year, there seemed to be new buildings lining the streets and different faces regularly appearing on sidewalks. It was home, for sure, but nowhere near as comfortable as it used to be. When you blundered around the town, you felt like a stranger visiting for the first time, learning everything all over again.

“Hey,” Mel caught your attention, pulling a cork board from your closet that had pictures tacked to the surface and small paper decorations in between. “Ms. Fishers sixth grade graduation!” She exclaimed, pointing to the banner of cardstock paper tacked to the top, the letters outlined with black sharpie and filled in with coloured marker. You laughed at the sight, realizing you hadn’t seen that board in years as you stepped towards her.

“That’s me!” You exclaimed, pointing to you standing in the mini-graduation gown at the very end of the front row. The class picture was sweet, but it made you wonder where everyone else in the class ended up. After all these years, were they nearing twenty five with no clue where they were headed, just like you? Or were they settled down with families, finding full time jobs and building lives with the people they loved?

The thought was saddening to you, making you realize how far away you were from getting to that point. A relationship was laughable, barely mentioning marriage and kids. In your six years of university, you had your fair share of hookups and flings, but never anything serious. You couldn’t seem to find anyone who you connected with further than physical attraction, and certainly nobody you would be willing to spend your life with. So far, the only compatible relationship for living was the girl standing next to you, and you were certain at some point, she would be ready to move on to something different.

“Look at this,” you stepped past her, grinning as you grabbed a cowboy hat from one of the handmade shelves at the top of your closet. Your dad, when he was still a good dad, made it for you so you could have some extra space. You placed the hat on your head, tilting it downwards over your face as you struck a pose. The dollar store gemstones you hot glued to the top glimmered under the light, making the sight even more ridiculous.

“What is that?” She asked, caught in a fit of laughter as she looked at the poorly decorated hat.

“I got really into spirit days at school.” You shrugged, tossing the hat in the pile of throwaway items.

“Loser.” She muttered, reaching for an old sports jacket suspended on a hanger. “Volleyball?” She questioned, raising an eyebrow as she read the words embroidered on the back.

“Yeah, tenth grade and never again. Coach was a bitch.” You explained, reaching for it to see if it still fit. As you made a move to slip it over your shoulders, you froze in place, knowing that even if it did fit, you would never wear it again. Instead, you threw it in the pile of clothes you were planning to drop off at the thrift store.

“Oh, cool!” You exclaimed, a shiny trophy catching your eye, hidden in the back corner of the top shelf. You brought it down, flashing it in her direction so she could read the gold panel.

“1st place…. Frankenmuth Middle School Relay?” She asked, unsure of what the award was for.

“Big race we used to do at the end of the year. Think the teachers got sick of lesson planning, so they brought us to the soccer field to do a bunch of activities. I was the fastest in the class that year.” You said, proud of the achievement as you placed it back upon the shelf.

“Is this a diary?” She asked, hauling an old leather bound book from a stack of papers and magazines.

“Yes,” you cackled, snatching it from her hands and flipping it open to a random page. “Let’s see… April 30th, 2010.” You cleared your throat for dramatic effects, beginning to read the entry aloud. “Today, in English class, Liam S. was totally checking me out. He’s definitely not the cutest guy in the class, but he’s funny, and he’s so nice. I hope he asks me to the spring dance, mom got me a new dress and everything!”

“And did Liam S. sweep you off your feet that night?” She asked, pulling her hands to her heart as she let out an airy sigh.

“No, but we did date.” You explained. “For three weeks, until I broke up with him for rating me too low on a hot or not list.”

“What!?” She exploded, her voice shrill as an echoing laugh boomed through the room.

“Yeah, apparently I only had the fourth best ass in the class.” You scoffed, quickly reading a little further into the book. You used to sit in your bedroom for hours at night, pouring your heart out on to the paper just for it to be forgotten in a mess of items in your room. “It’s funny, you know. I used to carry this thing with me everywhere, and I barely even remembered it existed.”

“Yeah, there was lots of stuff that I did the same thing with. Used to be a prized possession, now they just collect dust on a shelf somewhere.” She muttered, pulling out a large box sitting in the back corner. “And for the record, I bet you had the best ass out of anyone at that school.” She clarified, plopping the cardboard down on your mattress.

“No, I definitely didn’t.” You laughed, looking to the door as you heart a small pitter-patter of paws against the linoleum floor. The jingle of the bell around the collar signified your suspicions were correct, and when a fuzzy head peeked around the corner, you greeted him with excitement. “The man himself, Blizzard of Ozz: Prince of Fucking Darkness!” You exclaimed, watching as the tubby black cat raised his tail and rubbed himself up against the doorframe. He let out a meow in response to your voice, happily trotting over to greet you.

“Don’t call him by his full name unless he does something wrong!” Mel scolded, reaching down to pick him up as he rubbed against her leg. “He won’t take us seriously if we use it all the time.” She plopped him down on the bed, the sound of his purring loud enough to reach both of your ears. He sniffed around the boxes a few times, nudging his face against the corner of the cardboard flaps to investigate the item taking up his place on the mattress.

“I don’t think he ever really takes us seriously, Mel.” You furrowed your brows together, looking from her to the small animal curiously meandering around the bed. “He gets treats and new toys every day, and we kiss him on the head after we scold him because we feel too bad about it.”

“Right, so don’t give away the last bit of power we have left.” She said, fixing the tag on his collar that somehow adorned his entire name in small print.

The cat was spoiled, loved so wholly and deeply by the two of you that sometimes you believed he was in charge. After a particularly rough exam week in your second last year of school, the two of you took a break from studying and took a walk downtown to clear your mind. You stopped at a coffee shop a few blocks away from your apartment building, where you found him, keeping content by playing with empty coffee cups in the nearby alleyway. Being two kindhearted people, you couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him behind. Within two weeks, he had made himself at home in your apartment, and not long after that, in your hearts, too. He went with you on every adventure; his harness being on more often than not. He tagged along in every road trip, and neither of you ever thought once about leaving him behind as you moved across the country again.

He was a witty and clever little thing, always sneaking into places he shouldn’t be and never allowing himself to go unnoticed. The minute you stepped in a room, he was squeaking at you to pet him, and never did he allow either of you to sit alone on the couch. He took turns sleeping with the both of you, and was happier than ever now that you shared a bed and he didn’t have to pick.

And yes, his full name was The Man Himself, Blizzard of Ozz: Prince of Fucking Darkness.

Oftentimes, Ozz sufficed.

The cat actually went unnamed for quite some time after you brought him home. Neither of you seemed keen on the names being suggested, so for a while, he went by ‘Mr. Man.’ Or some odd arangement of classic terms of endearment that got stranger by the day. Then, when the two of you found yourselves a little too high off some weed you bought from an upperclassman, the name made its first appearance. You both took turns rambling ridiculous titles for him, until you took a leap of faith and rattled off the first thing you thought of when Crazy Train played from your Bluetooth speaker. The laughing was so intense it brought the both of you to tears, and from there, it seemed to stick.

Now, you couldn’t think of a better name to call him, even if it was a little ridiculous.

Careful not to disturb him, Mel reached forward into the box, lifting a few items from it. Ozz busied himself by chewing on the cardboard flap, not privy to the woman beside him at all. “What’s all this stuff?” She asked, looking over a few sheets of Monopoly money, a cracked mirror from the dollar store, and a deck of playing cards.

“That must be the stuff I cleared out of my locker in senior year.” You said, turning your head downwards and peeking inside. “Yeah, it definitely is.” You confirmed, pulling out a set of string lights with a battery pack attached. “It’s all junk, you can throw it out.” You dismissed it, ready to move on to something new.

“Are you sure?” She asked, looking between you and the box with great hesitancy. You casted another sideways glance, your lips pursing together as you wondered if it was worth your time.

Something in your heart told you not to jump so fast, to think about it a moment longer before discarding the memories away so easily. You tried not to be a sentimental person, because you found that sentiments only seemed to hurt you rather than bring you comfort. You used to be that type of person, so many moons ago when life was simple and the most you had to worry about was a surplus of homework and no pocket change to spend. Now, you thought it was ridiculous, and you did everything you could to draw a line between memories and objects. Items could not hurt, just the same as they could not be happy. They were objects, inanimate and unable to mean more than what you made them to be.

But there was something about that fucking box, like it was fate for you to rediscover all the things that awaited you inside.

“Let’s go through it.” You said, changing your mind as your skin prickled with curiosity. The emotion that took hold was unfamiliar, confusing and unsettling when you thought about throwing it away. It washed over you so quickly that you couldn’t even think of anything else, and you wondered if you were the very thing psyching yourself up for nothing, or if there was a reason you felt such a pull to the old items inside.

You sat on the side of your bed, your hands landing on the very corners as you gripped at the soft sheets lining the mattress. As you did so, a twang of hurt filled your chest, passing almost as soon as it came. You blinked hard, your eyes wandering the room as you tried to comprehend the sudden change in yourself. Your eyebrows furrowed together, your mind racing as you looked at the old chestnut dresser that stood next to the door, standing prominently against the crimson paint on the walls. The scene was so familiar, just like the melancholic emotion that came along with it. The hurt in your heart seemed right as you sat on the edge of your bed, but you didn’t know why.

“Are you okay?” Mel asked, also noticing the shift in your demeanor. Your head snapped towards her, your eyes glossy with the feeling that plagued you, but you nodded your head and tried your hardest to snap yourself out of it.

“Yeah, just a nasty little bit of deja-vu, I think.” You breathed, your eyes wandering back to the empty door frame. Whatever your brain wanted you to remember was pertinent to you, but you couldn’t seem to put it together yet. You felt like you’d been in the exact position before, but you couldn’t place it.

“I get it,” she empathized, taking a seat next to you and placing the box on the floor in front of her. “It’s a lot seeing all of your old stuff, like a lifetime you’ve completely forgotten about.”

“Yeah,” you laughed, the sound airy and forced. “I haven’t thought about high school in so long that it kind of just seems like a different world, now. I kind of forced myself to stop thinking about it, because it hurt too bad, you know? And I guess after a while, I blocked it out completely.” She knew what you meant, because in the entire time you’d known her, you had been unreasonably stingy with stories from your high school days. Every time she mentioned it, you seemed to go to a different place entirely, like you were using all of your energy to ensure the memories wouldn’t resurface. She respected you enough not to ask, but it was impossible to run away from now that you were standing face to face with the very things you tried so hard to stay away from.

“We don’t have to go through this, if you don’t want to.” She assured you, watching your face as your eyes fluttered towards the box.

“I do and I don’t.” You tried your best to explain how you felt, hesitant to reach out and explore the items before you, but gutted at the prospect of throwing it in the trash. “I feel like I’ve grown so much and I’m so different, and I don’t need to see any of this stuff again, but there’s something telling me I have to look through it all, that if I don’t, I’m going to regret it for the rest of my life.” She bargained with your words before she responded, carefully considering all you had to say.

“Seems like you’re looking for something, but you don’t know what it is.” She offered the idea with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Yeah, maybe.” You muttered, finally harnessing enough courage to reach forward and sort through the mess of items.

Underneath a pile of loose papers, you found your old graduation cap. You held it in your hands, your fingers drifting over the silky, light blue fabric. You let your hand drift downward, running through the red threads of the tassel that dangled from the top. You placed it to the side, finding little comfort in the item at all. Below that lay a tattered AP Biology textbook, the front cover frayed and littered with marks from the students who used it before (and remembered to return it). There was an old pencil case stuffed to the brim with writing utensils and erasers. When you pulled it open, you found a folded up note from a fellow friend that was much too faded to read.

The more you pulled out, the stronger the tugging in your heart felt. Photographs of you and your old friends, bent and torn, floated loosely around the box. You took the time to study every one of them, saddened at how estranged you’d become from them. You didn’t talk to anyone from your hometown, and although you thought cutting contact was for the best, it only seemed to hurt as you recalled the sleepovers and adventures you engaged in with people who didn’t know you any longer. It all hurt.

Why did it hurt so fucking bad?

Sitting on the edge of the bed, boxes packed and the lingering scent of your mother’s favourite lavender candle hanging thick in the air. The chestnut boards of the dresser that once stored your entire wardrobe, the tile underneath your feet, impossibly cold despite the summer heat radiating through the panel windows by your bedside. Reruns of Dr. Phil on the television downstairs, the hum of a song stuck in your head despite no tune playing at all.

You’ve been here, in this exact position, hurting over something with the same fervor as you felt in the moment. It was so far away. Why couldn’t you remember?

For once, six years after leaving the town, you were aching to remember the memories and the love that was contained within the walls of the home, but you couldn’t. You pushed it so far away that the life you once led in Michigan no longer felt like your own. It was hazy, fuzzy around the corners every time you tried to recollect a scene. The voices were warbled, echoing somewhere deep behind your eyes and not quite loud enough to reach your ears.

Why did you try so hard to forget? Why did you force it away so desperately?

Then, the world stopped.

No person beside you, no curious cat nudging your hand. Dr. Phil had gone silent, and the air wasn’t even filled with the sweet notes of vanilla laced in unison with lavender. The creaks and groans of the old house ceased to exist, and the mattress below you disintegrated to nothing. You were stuck, frozen in time, floating amidst a cloud of smoke that wouldn’t clear. Your lungs burned for air, your heart threatening to explode under the weight of emotion. Your mind was repeating the same thing over and over again, incessantly reminding you, forcing you to remember everything you had hidden away in hopes of closure.

Instead of your voice, it was his, saying the same words that were written in silver sharpie on the lid of the tiny, black shoebox.

So let’s make it last.

“Oh, god.” You wheezed out the words, feeling like you were suffocating from the plethora of pain encasing your body. In an instant, six years spent dedicated to forgetting suddenly dissolved into one, terrifying storm of reminiscing.

The box.

The box.

That’s why you couldn’t throw it away.

“What is wrong, Y/N?” Mel asked, urgent as if she’d already asked a hundred times.

Little to your knowledge, she had, but you were too busy listening to the sweet sound of Jake Kiszka’s voice, stored so pristinely in the deepest depths of your mind.

“The shoebox.” You squeaked, raising a shaky finger to point her attention towards the poorly painted over Vans logo.

“So, what? What is it?”

What is it? It was everything.

It was a box full of love, sealed so long ago and hidden away for safekeeping when you couldn’t part from the physical reminders of the boy who forever had your heart. It was years worth of memories, years worth of emotion you hadn’t let yourself feel since you locked it away.

“That should be everything, my love.” Your mom crooned, placing the last movie ticket stub inside the box and sending a sorrowful look your way. Your tear stained cheeks were too much for her to bear, but she loved you enough to stand witness to the biggest heartbreak of your life. She loved you enough to put her own hurt aside, just to ease yours, to alleviate you from being the one to close the book on the chapter that hurt you the most. “What do you want to do with it, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know.” You drew in a shaky breath, holding in a wail that was begging to escape you.

It had been 110 days since you had broken up with Jake, since you left him with sad eyes and a heart that bled only for you standing in your driveway, the ghost of his last ‘I love you’ still on his lips. It had been 110 days of the most gut wrenching, exhausting, and excruciating pain you had ever felt.

The snow stuck to the ground, the frost nipping at your nose when you stepped outside, and the Christmas tree standing tall in your living room told you that the season had passed and the world was still turning, but you felt stuck in that sticky summer day in August, tears on your cheeks and love on the tip of your tongue as you spent your last night with him. It was the first time you’d been home since then, the first time stepping foot in your bedroom after creating your most haunting memory within it.

You knew you needed to get over him, but you did not know how.

How do you move on from someone who loved you so completely and wholly? How do you stop lamenting about better days that have since passed and will never return? How do you keep going, knowing you would never hold his hand again, feel his touch, or appreciate the sweetness of his kiss? How could you move on when you did not hate him? When his memory still existed in your mind and he was still that perfect person?

The memory of him lived within the walls of your house still, his shampoo still lingering on your pillowcase and his love still in the air. The reminders of your relationship existed in every corner of your bedroom, on the walls, in picture frames, and in the threads of your sheets and blankets. Even now, with the pictures and love notes and dried flowers contained in a single box, you had no idea how to get him out of your head.

“Wait,” you sniffled, watching your mom begin to close the top of the box. You couldn’t stand to do it yourself. You tumbled down the stairs, a mess of tears on your face and a pain in your heart growing larger by the second, begging her to help you gut the last remaining proof of your relationship from the walls. “There’s one more thing.” You confessed, reaching down into your book bag. 

For 110 days, you kept it so close, carrying it with you wherever you went and playing it through the disc drive in your laptop every night to fall asleep. Now, you knew that you would never be able to move on, especially not if you continued to hold on to the memory so tightly.

With an unsteady hand and a heaving chest, you handed her the plastic CD case. Her eyes traveled over the faded writing on the disk itself, and her heart ached for you. Slowly, she placed it underneath the rest of the items, hiding it from sight to make it easier on you.

“I’m gonna keep this, and I’ll put it somewhere safe, lovebug.” She said, finally closing the top to the shoebox and sealing the memories inside forevermore. “Why don’t you go take a nice bath? I’ve got a bottle of wine downstairs with your name on it, but only this time.” She offered, reaching out and tucking your hair behind your ear. “Tomorrow, we’ll go out and do something, all three of us. That sound good?”

Of course she understood; five years ago, she sat in her bedroom, hurting just the same over a man who left her without a second thought. Who left all of you without a second thought. The only true healer was time, and right now, time was not your friend. You could lean on her, ask her for help, hold her hand, because she knew how you felt, and she’d felt that way many times before you even knew what it meant.

“That sounds good.” You breathed, closing your eyes and squeezing out the last of the tears brimming the lids.

“I’ll change your sheets for you, too.” She said, standing with the box clutched tightly in her hand. “It hurts right now, my love, but it won’t feel this way forever. I promise.”

It won’t feel this way forever.

Oh how wrong she was, even if the truth didn’t come in the way she meant it.

It did hurt forever, but it was not constant.

Four years it’s been since his name crossed your mind, four years of sleeping soundly and four years free of regret that plagued you so viciously. You were so tired of hurting that you forced yourself to forget; you erased every memory of him from your brain with the help of alcohol and meaningless hookups. You went home with a new guy every night, promising yourself that with new hands on you, you would forget the feeling of his. You buried yourself in school, studying so intently and for so long that your eyes crossed and you had a constant migraine. You deleted him and his family off every social platform, because despite going no contact that first ever week at university, you still stayed up at night, torturing yourself as you scrolled through Instagram and Facebook. You deleted every picture you ever took of him, knowing that if the temptation was there, you would submit to it. Worst of all, you vowed to never speak his name again, just so you could forget how good it felt rolling off your tongue.

You purged him from your life entirely, and it worked so well that he hadn’t been a passing thought in your mind in years. It was not because you hated him, not because you wanted to forget him. You did it out of necessity, knowing that every time you reminisced on the beautiful memories you made with him, it took a little more of your soul. For nearly two years, Jake Kiszka plagued every thought you ever had. You abstained from relationships and romance as a whole, because you knew nobody would ever be able to replace him. You needed to forget him, or else it would have killed you. You loved Jake so utterly and completely, even two years after you broke up, even after never speaking his name again, that it forced you to drown his memory. Every time you thought of him, you forced yourself to think of something else. Every time his face was pictured, perfect in your mind, you made yourself look at something else.

After so long, it became a habit, and now, it was a way of life.

But, even so, as you stared down at the silver writing, you knew deep in your heart that no matter how much forgetting you did, you never stopped loving.

“—earth to Y/N!” A hand waved in front of your face, breaking your staring contest with the Vans box decorated in silver sharpie. You could remember writing it, the sobs that shook your shoulders and the aching of your heart. The shakiness of the letters retold the story as clear as day.

After six years, you were still hopelessly in love with Jake, and one fear you always had remained true; nobody in the entire world could compare to him, and nobody else ever loved you in the same way he did.

Not that you let them, and not that they tried.

So let’s make it last.

How, after so long of refusing to think of the man, did he still have such a drastic effect on you? How were you still so caught up on someone you fell for when you were fifteen?

Out of all the questions, that one seemed the easiest to answer; you were still pining for him, because every version of you after fifteen loved him more than the last.

“Christ, you’re scaring me.” Mel tried again, her hand landing on your shoulder in a desperate attempt to pull your attention back to her. Your head finally snapped in her direction, your lungs searing from the lack of oxygen as you drew in a long overdue breath. “Are you okay?” She was panicked, her eyes wide and her expression coated with her fear. Never once had she seen you in such a state, and she was clueless as to why you were taken from her so quickly.

“I…” you trailed off, shaking your head in an attempt to clear your mind. It felt like a million memories were washing over you at once, stuck in an endless stream of thoughts that you forced yourself to ignore for so long. “That box.” You finally huffed out, your eyes shining with the same heartbreak you felt all of those years ago. Time did not change the intensity in which you hurt over losing him, even if you convinced yourself that it did.

“What about that box?” She asked, trying to pry it out of you. It was a rough subject, not only because it was hurting you so badly, but because aside from your mother, you had never spoken a word about Jake to anyone.

She was your best friend, your partner in crime and everything good in the world, but this was a heartache she had not touched, yet. It was one you stored so deep down that not even you touched it anymore, and in order to answer the question, you would have to tell her everything.

“What isn’t in that box?” Your rhetoric was full of refrain, like the words fought a daunting battle to even pass through your mouth. Your heartbeat was so strong that you could feel it surging through your entire body, under your skin and behind your eyes, all the way to the very tips of your toes. Your face was burning, your throat dry and your eyes sad as you finally reached forward. Your fingers grazed over the surface, collecting a layer of dust as they traced the words. “My whole life is in this box, Mel. The very reason my heart beats.” You whispered, picking it up and placing it in your lap.

“I don’t like it when you get poetic.” She let out a nervous laugh, looking between your face and the item in your hands as she awaited further explanation.

“I don’t know if I can explain it without showing you.” You admitted, your finger gently running over the lip of the cardboard where the cover sat flush with the rest.

“If it’s so important, how did you forget about it? And more importantly, why have I never heard of it?” She asked, trying to make sense of it all. You couldn’t blame her for being so confused—in all of the time you’ve known her, this was the only thing you had ever kept from her.

“You know when something hurts so much that it feels impossible to survive? Like if you don’t stop thinking about it, it will be the only thing you ever think about?” You began, your eyes fluttering closed as a sad smile crossed your lips.

“Yeah, I guess.” She replied, her tone softening as she realized the seriousness of the situation.

“This is one of those things. It was the most beautiful part of my whole life, but now that it’s gone, it’s horrible to remember. It took me two years to get over it, and even then, I never really did. I just got better at bottling it up and ignoring it, and eventually, it became a habit. This hurt so bad that I had to forget about it, because if I didn’t, I would have spent the rest of my life stuck in it, rather than making something new for myself.”

“Ooookayy.” She drew the word out for dramatic effect, her humorous tone usually uplifting you in times of crisis, but not even this time could it begin to ease the feeling of hurt in your heart.

With a breath of courage you did not have, you flipped open the lid. You did not look inside straight away, instead finding yourself staring at the empty section of wall between your door and your dresser, remembering the sight that was there so long ago. Jake, teary-eyed with flowers from his backyard and a CD he’d worked so hard to make, clad in a sweater that he wore only because you bought it for him. You wondered what he looked like now, if he’d recognize you if he stood before you again. You smiled gently to yourself as you recollected the softness of his features, the warmth in his dark eyes, feeling a sense of comfort wash over you that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Where was he, now? Was he halfway across the world, living his dream and playing guitar on stage every night? He used to talk about it so often that you thought it would be a shame if he let that passion go to waste. Was Josh alongside him, still annoying him beyond belief and loving him in a way only a twin brother could? Was his hair long, flowing past his shoulders and cascading down his back, just like he told you he wanted it to? Was his smile the same, toothy and goofy enough to make you fall in love at the first glance?

There were so many things you wanted to know, gutted that Jake existed in the world somewhere and you were not a witness to the light he added to it. You were in agony knowing that there wasn’t just one, but so many versions of him you never got to know, just the same as he never got to experience the many different versions of you. You hated yourself for never reaching out, for locking up that part of your heart and throwing it away, but you had to. It was necessary for survival, and you didn’t want to lose yourself to a stranger who might not even be the boy you once loved so desperately.

Then again, a small part of you knew that no matter how strange Jake would be to you now, he would still be just as lovable and just as beautiful.

Your heart ached at the thought of him being grown, now, likely wrapped up in someone else’s arms who could love him more than you could at the time. Back then, you thought that letting him go was the best way to show how much you loved him, but six years later, you understood he was the type of person you never should have let slip through your fingers. You wondered if he ever thought of you, or if he went through the same turmoil that caused you to shut out his memory completely. You swallowed down the lump in your throat when you realized he likely didn’t, because Jake was always much too grand to be caught up on someone as mediocre as you.

Forcing yourself out of the maddening thoughts, your eyes trailed down to the items inside the box. Carefully, you picked out a pile of movie tickets, sifting through them and trying not to get stuck in every memory of every theater date the two of you had.

“In high school, I met a boy who turned my whole world upside down.” You whispered, squeezing your eyes shut as you passed the tickets to Mel. “He was everything anyone could ever want. He was the type of person that made it impossible not to love him.” You explained, feeling the scratch of tears in your throat as you grabbed a ziplock bag full of dried wildflowers and petals from bouquets. “He was a real romantic, always buying flowers and writing love notes. He walked with me to school before he got his license, and drove me as soon as he did. He was my best friend, and unfortunately, probably the best love of my entire life.”

“What was his name, love?” Mel asked, taking the bag of flowers from your hand so you could continue the walk down memory lane.

“Jacob,” the name felt like gold on your tongue, the taste sweet and the warmth otherworldly. “I called him Jake.” You pulled out a torn journal page, folded neatly and begging to be read. Carefully, you opened it up, letting your eyes drift over the familiar scrawl of his messy handwriting. “We dated for three years. Liam S. had nothing on him, and I met Jake not long after the hot or not debacle.” You laughed quietly, your eyes crinkling in the corners as you realized how happy you were that Liam turned out to be an asshole. Because of his childish behavior, the best years of your life happened. “I’ve never been so thankful to have my heart broken by someone, because if I stayed with Liam, I never would have met Jake. I was skipping class one day because I couldn’t stand the thought of being near Liam after that god awful list, and I ran into Jake, skipping because he couldn’t stand the thought of being in History class. Was fate, I guess. We were inseparable after that.”

You took a moment, swallowing back the pain and blinking away tears as you pulled note after note from the box, each one more painful than the last. There were doodles, stick figures of the two of you holding hands, and hearts dancing around your heads. Jake always had a special way of expressing his love, and he did it in every way he could. It was always lighthearted, never too serious but always fully expressing the tellings of his heart. He wrote you love notes because he wasn’t good at saying it aloud, and he drew terrible pictures when words failed him. At the end of the day, he was a teenage boy, but he was so much better than the rest of them.

“We did everything together. So many days spent at the lake, and so many nights spent talking in this bed. We used to sneak out on the roof and look at the stars every night, because there’s a ledge on the attic window that makes it easy to get up there. He listened and never made me feel stupid, and he loved me so much that I never had to question it. He used to drive my sister to her basketball practices when mom was at work, and he’d sit with me the whole time, happy to do it. He was quiet, but everything he said was worth listening to. He was funny, and so kind. The biggest heart I’ve ever seen on anyone.” You felt yourself choke up, the surplus of emotion becoming too much for you to hold back.

“What happened?”

“Life did.” You responded, simple enough as you continued to sort through the box. There were tickets to school sports games, tokens from the local arcade, and all of the guitar picks that fell from his pocket into your bed. There were unopened ring pops, because he’d buy you one at the corner store every time you stopped, forever promising that it would be a real ring someday. Your entire relationship was in the box, staring you in the face with a ferocious grin as you recounted the mistakes you made. “Him and I were always different. He had a dream of being in a band. He hated school and everything that came along with it. He played soccer, he loved to have fun, and he smoked cigarettes. He wouldn’t listen no matter how many times I told him it was bad for him. I loved school, I was good at it, and I wanted to go to the best university I could get into. I didn’t drink all that much, and I stayed in more often than not. For three years, it never phased us, and we loved each other no matter how different we were. It still seemed right.”

“Until it wasn’t?”

“Not even then.” You chuckled, pulling out an old Polaroid picture.

As your eyes landed on the two of you, laying in the long grass in the field at the old park, you felt the knife twist in your stomach. He was smiling, the grin lighting up his whole face as he held you in his arms. You were between his legs, your back against his chest and your arms atop his, wrapped around you. You were in his clothes, your hair falling over your face that was nearly washed out from the flash of the camera. You could remember the feeling like he was behind you now, the rattle of his chest as he laughed and the warmth of his body against yours. The deep amber of his cologne lingered in your nose, and the sweetness of his kiss still remained on your lips.

In that moment, you thanked God that Josh was there to take the picture. Even now, even after all the hurt, the memory was so precious to you and you wished so badly to be there one more time, just for a minute.

“We talked about it for a long time, what would happen when I left for school. I knew I was going far away, and he knew he was going to stay here. Maybe if I went to school closer, the outcome would have been different.” You shrugged, acting nonchalantly about one of the thoughts that often plagued your entire life. “We decided long distance wasn’t right for us. I didn’t want to hold him down, and he didn’t want to hold me back. We loved each other so much that we let each other go, believing it was for the best. I can’t speak for him, but for me, it was far from the best. It was the worst, actually.” You explained, looking at a few other Polaroids in the box. “We broke up the night before I went to school. Or the morning of, I guess.” You corrected yourself, your fingers going in search of the only thing you truly wanted to see.

“And that was it? You never talked to him again.”

“No.” You shook your head. “Never again ‘cept for a few days after I got there.” Your fingertips found the hard plastic case, pulling it out from the very bottom of the box. Origami flowers went flying, the ones you made for him but never had the chance to give him, and a few guitar picks fluttered to the floor. “That night, he gave me this.” You flashed it in her direction. She reached out, taking it from your hands so she could read the words written on the disk. “I remember exactly what he said, and it fucking killed me, Mel.”

“Eight songs, Y/N. I sat there for hours, listening to as much music as I could. I sorted through my dad’s old vinyl records, and all of the CD’s Josh and I could find in the house. I searched for lyrics on the internet, I even asked my mom if she had any ideas.” Jake explained, taking a step closer to you. There was a small plastic case in one of his hands, a bushel of hand picked wildflowers in his other, and a look in his eyes that made your heart ache with all of the pain you had been holding back. “This is it; eight songs that tell you exactly how I feel about you. Four that tell you how much I love you, and four that tell you everything you need to know about how I feel about you leaving.”

You recounted the memory aloud, the quiver of sadness in your tone too loud to ignore. “For three months, I listened to this every night to go to sleep. I carried the CD with me everywhere I went, until I came home for Christmas and mom and I decided it was best that I put all of this stuff away. I was torturing myself, loving someone I couldn’t have. That’s why when I met you, I never wanted to leave your side. I was recovering from this, and I had nobody.”

“So he’s the reason you listened to that Pearl Jam song on repeat all of the time?” She asked, thinking back on the state you constantly found yourself in.

“Yeah,” you laughed, nodding as a tear rolled down your cheek. “Black. That was the song.”

“Right, how could I forget?” She chuckled, humming the tune to herself. “I know someday you’ll have a beautiful life, I know you’ll be a star in somebody else’s…” she sang to herself, trailing off as she realized why the words spoke so loudly to you.

“Sky.” You finished, unable to leave it hanging. “But why can’t it be mine, right?” You forced a smile on your face, trying to joke, but both of you knew it was not funny to you.

“Why did you never tell me about him?” She asked, looking at you with sadness in her own eyes. She was grieving the love with you, like a true best friend would.

“Lots of reasons, I suppose.” You sniffled back another wave of tears, your voice now infiltrated with the sadness that once only ravished your heart. It was taking over again, like it did so long ago when you vowed to shut it out. “Guess I didn’t want to scare you away, and I didn’t really want to bring that memory to school with me. The dorm and the apartment walls, all of the buildings…. That sadness never touched that, you know? He was never there, his memory didn’t live in the place like it does here. I thought if I never talked about it, it would never hurt as bad there as it did here, that night.”

“But it did anyway.”

“It did.” You agreed, clearing your throat slightly. “For a really long time. I spent two years thinking of him, dreaming of him. I wanted him so bad, and it never went away with time like all of the Reddit forums said it would.” You laughed at your own stupidity, shaking your head at all the time you spent reading breakup advice from faceless strangers on the internet. “One day, I had to stop. I was my own worst enemy, listening to all the music we used to listen to together, living in the memories at night when I was alone in bed, picturing him beside me, holding my hand. I deleted him off all my social media, and his family, too. I erased all the pictures, and I drank and partied so much that I couldn’t think about anything, let alone him. I studied so much that I dreamt about Shakespeare, and every time I thought of his name, I shoved it so far to the back of my mind that I couldn’t possibly find it again. I forced myself to forget it all, to pretend it never happened so one day, I could believe it.”

“I told myself new memories would replace the old ones, and after a while they did. Christ, when we came here he wasn’t even a passing thought in my head, but I could feel this lingering sadness in the air, looming over my head all of the time. I didn’t get it until now, when I saw the box, and it all came back at once. I shoved it so far down that I tricked my brain into blocking it out, but when it’s in your face like that… it’s hard to keep it out.” You finished, closing your eyes to regain yourself. “That’s why you lost me for a while, I guess.”

“So you haven’t had any contact with this guy? Like, at all? You don’t know what he looks like, where he lives…?”

“Nothing.” You assured her. “If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s ignoring a problem so much that it ceases to exist.”

“But it does exist, and it still hurts.” She explained. “You don’t date, you don’t try to meet guys, you hate the idea of love, and this is why, Y/N. If it’s been six years and you still feel that way, maybe you should reach out.” She offered, looking over the CD once again.

“As if,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes at the idea. “He wouldn’t even remember me, Mel. It’s been so long, I’m sure he’s long moved past us. He’s the type of guy everyone loves, so I’m sure he’s found someone who treats him really well. He deserves that, not the girl from high school who broke his and her own heart.”

“Maybe we should just look at his instagram, just to see what he looks like?” She asked, pulling out her phone.

“No.” You said, reaching out and holding her phone down. “I don’t want to, Mel. I stopped keeping up with him for a reason. All it does is hurt me more.”

“Okay.” She conceded, placing her phone back on the bed. “Since we’re already sad, why don’t we listen to the music? Why don’t you tell me about the songs?”

“Nosy.” You snipped, but shot a playful smile her way.

“Obviously.” She huffed. “My best friend just told me about a boyfriend I’ve never heard of before, who is apparently the greatest love of her life. I want to know everything that I didn’t know I was missing.”

“I don’t know…” you trailed off, eyeing the messy handwriting on the surface of the disk. “I’d just be reopening old wounds. I don’t know if that’s what I should be doing while I’m trying to start my life.”

“Seems like they’re already open, Y/N.” She said, raising an eyebrow. “Just one song?” You watched her face for a moment, your heart racing at the thought of playing that first track. At the same time, an overwhelming sense of calm washed over you at the idea, like an addict finally in reach of a fix. It had been so long since you let yourself enjoy the music that spoke his love for you, and the thought of hearing it again made your heart soar. It had been so long since you felt such an abundance of love like that, and you understood that it couldn’t hurt more than it already was.

“Yeah, okay.” You sighed, carefully placing all the items back in the box. You sat it beside you on the bed, slowly standing to your feet. You grabbed the disk from her hand, navigating through the mess on the floor and plopping down in the computer chair nestled in the corner of your room. You hunched over; searching through the drawers of your desk until you exactly found what you were looking for. “A-ha.” You muttered to yourself, pulling out the old CD player and the speakers you had to go with it. The cords were tangled, wrapping around all of them and knitting together to make the task even more daunting for you. “I haven’t used this in years.” You said, your fingers carefully unraveling the tangled mess of the cords.

“Used it? Y/N, I haven’t even seen one since middle school.” You chuckled, plugging the player into the outlet on the wall beside you.

“I only ever used it to listen to this.” You clarified, wiping the dust from the surface with the bottom of your already dirty t-shirt. You popped the top open, carefully taking the disc from its holder and placing it inside. You shut it, trying to read the faded white print on the black surface to find the play button. Eventually, you hit start, and the air filled with a static silence, the whirring of the machine the only thing filling your ears.

You leaned back in your chair, closing your eyes as you braced yourself for the impact of that first note. Your palms were clammy, your chest tight and your stomach swirling with nausea. Even as horrible as you felt, knowing what was to come, the feeling was comforting, familiar even. You felt it so many times, huddled in that exact chair with your knees pulled to your chest. You felt it in your dorm room, tears clouding your vision as you tried to hide yourself under the covers and disappear from the world. You knew this feeling better than anything else, and you had every scratch and pause on the track memorized so well that you could recite it in your sleep.

Even so, it didn’t seem to stop the wave of grief that washed over you when the first strum of the acoustic guitar filled the air.

You nearly doubled over in your seat, struck with an invisible force that was stronger than anything else. Your bones ached and your body felt heavy, your eyes aching as you squeezed them shut so tightly it made you see stars. The music that filled the room was quiet, but it felt like it was screaming at you, beating you down and berating you for being so foolish.

“Childhood living,

Is easy to do

The things you wanted

I bought them for you.”

Four years old, Barbie doll in hand and chocolate stains visible on your neon green shirt as you stood at the entryway of the kitchen. Your hair was wild, messy from a full day of playing outside. The summer air was sweeter than it had ever been, the color of the grass so prominent in your mind. Dandelion yellow stained your knees from kneeling on the abundant petals in the backyard. The clouds in the sky looked like cotton candy, and you pleaded with your mother to let you stay outside for just a moment longer.

Of course, she picked you up by the arms, scolding you with a smile as she told you that you wouldn’t be able to play if you were hungry. Dinner was waiting for you on the table, your favorite meal to top off the wondrous day of being completely carefree. For dessert, you split an ice cream sundae with your dad, doused in chocolate sauce and rainbow sprinkles. As your mom did the dishes, you watched a cartoon on the couch. When the sound of the water stopped and giggles filled the air, you couldn’t help but investigate, dreading missing out on a moment of fun.

When you peeked into the room, the kitchen table concealing you as you stood at perfect height, you did not see your mom hovering over the sink. Instead, you heard the static hum of the radio, the familiar song playing quietly. Your mother was in the middle of the room, dish towel still in her hand and a blinding smile on her face. Your father stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist and his head nuzzled in the crook of her neck. A smile that matched hers rested on his own lips as they swayed slowly, and he was singing her the lyrics as they passed through the speaker.

Although it was out of tune, off time, and nowhere near as good as Mick Jagger had sounded, it was perfect. To you and your mother, it was the best sound in the whole world, because when your dad sang it, it was full of love.

“Graceless lady

You know who I am

You know I can’t let you

Slide through my hands.”

Eight years old with your little sister by your side, the words passed through your fathers lips, but it wasn’t the same as it used to be. He was tired, withdrawn, singing the song with refrain in his eyes as he watched the hand your mother was holding. The love has lessened, the tune a habit rather than a gift. Things were different, and you chalked it up to age. One day you were certain your father would sing it again, with the very same love in his eyes he used to have.

“Wild horses

Couldn’t drag me away

Wild, wild horses

Couldn’t drag me away.”

The familiar song played through the closed door of your parents bedroom, but it was not framing a sweet moment. It had been on repeat for a day, now, and your father had left late the night before. Something deep in your soul told you he was not in there, nor was he singing it to her. Sometimes, when the music lulled, you could hear a muffled cry pass through the hollow door, cementing the notion in your head for good.

“I watched you suffer

A dull, aching pain

Now you’ve decided

To show me the same.”

At thirteen, you stood at the door of your parents bedroom, a lump in your throat as you watched your mother sleep away another afternoon. Your sister continued asking when your dad would be home, but the longer you stared at the half-empty room, the more you understood that the answer was something she couldn't quite understand. The longer you watched, the more you understood you’d never hear him sing that song again.

“No sweeping exits

Or offstage lines

Could make me feel bitter

Or treat you unkind.”

“Oh, God. Jake, please turn that off.” You pleaded, the melodic sound filling your stomach with dread. He looked back at you, nestled in his bed and safe under his blankets. He turned around in his desk chair, his head cocked to the side as he abandoned his math homework.

“What, you don’t like The Stones?” There was a careful kindness in his tone, wondering where your sudden discomfort came from but nervous to cross a line by asking.

“No, I do, just not this song.” You clarified, your heart racing in your chest as the hum of Jagger’s voice began to fill your ears. You tried so hard to stay calm, not to retaliate and cover your ears so you did not look like a child throwing a tantrum. Instantly, he reached over and lifted the needle from the spinning vinyl, placing it back on the holder. “I’m sorry, I just… I can’t listen to it.” You breathed, feeling a wave of relief wash over you as the song came to an abrupt stop.

“S’okay, sunshine. You don’t have to apologize for anything.” He promised, wheeling over to you as he noticed the discomfort in your eyes. He reached out, brushing your bangs from your eyes in an attempt to comfort you. “Why not?”

“Long story.” You whispered, your head sinking further down into his pillow.

“I always have time to listen to you.” He assured you, his thumb drifting over your cheek. Your eyes fluttered to meet his, the sight immediately calming your mind. You swallowed hard, leaning into his touch ever so slightly.

“My dad… he used to sing this to my mom. It was the best song in the whole world to us for so long.” You explained, fighting the distaste begging to leech into your tone. “They used to slow dance to it in the kitchen, and he’d sing it to us too, when we were sad. Then he fucking left, and mom listened to it over and over again, like it would bring him back. Guess it didn’t work out as well as she hoped it would.”

“I’m sorry, sunshine. I had no idea.” He hummed, his fingernails gently scratching over your scalp in hopes of soothing you.

“S’okay,” your eyes fluttered closed in bliss at the feeling. “Just sucks, ‘cause I used to love the song so much, and now it makes me sick.”

You didn’t understand back then, but now you knew why your mother played it so often. She was hoping it would bring him back, or hoping that it would make her feel close to him again. She was torturing herself in the same way that you tortured yourself with the exact CD you were listening to, then.

“Wild horses

Couldn’t drag me away

Wild, wild horses

Couldn’t drag me away.”

“I have something to show you, sunshine.” Jake's hand in yours felt right, just as it always did. His voice rang through your ears as you walked up the stairs to his bedroom. You had no idea what was awaiting you, but you knew if he had anything to do with it, it would be nothing short of fantastic.

“I know I dreamed you

A sin and a lie

I have my freedom

But I don’t have much time

Faith has been broken

Tears must be cried

Let’s do some living

After we die.”

You couldn’t stop the tears, running like waterfalls down your cheeks as Jake softly strummed at his dads old acoustic. The rasp in his voice paired with the quiver of nervousness made his singing all the more beautiful, and the sentiment behind his actions made your heart swell with joy. He was the most beautiful thing you’d ever laid eyes on, and you couldn’t believe he loved you so dearly.

His playing slowed to a stop, his anxious eyes flickering up to your face. As he noticed the trails of mascara streaked down your cheeks, his stomach dropped, fearful that he hurt you more than helped. You wanted to speak, to commend him for his gracious gesture, but words were failing you. You had never been so full of love in your life, not for anyone or anything, but he continued to amaze you with every day that passed.

“I’m sorry, beautiful. I never wanted to make you cry.” He stood, propping the guitar against his desk as he stepped towards you. His hands reached out, gently swiping away any lingering sadness on your face.

“No, Jake.” You shook your head, still choked up at the sweetness of the moment. “It was beautiful. So, so beautiful.” A small smile crossed his lips, and he crouched down to eye level, dreading overlooking a single moment of time with you. “Nobody’s ever done anything so nice for me.”

“I just… you said you loved the song, but you couldn’t listen to it anymore because it hurt too bad. I wanted to make the song good again, to make it hurt less.” He whispered, his brown eyes seemingly staring into your soul. “I don’t know if it worked, but I’d do anything for you, sunshine. I’ll do whatever I can to make you happy.”

“You do, Jake. You always do.” You felt tears falling from your eyes, but they were for a whole different reason than they were all of the times you heard the song before. He did exactly as he intended, and the song took on a whole different meaning. The bad hurt less, and the memory of Jake singing to you would be something you would never forget. He was everything, and you were so incredibly lucky to have him.

You reached toward, pausing the track before it could finish. Your chest was aching, your shoulders shaking with your tears as you felt Mel’s hands on your shoulders in support. She slid them downwards, and your hands raised in search of hers. Your head fell back, resting on her stomach as you tried to calm yourself down. It hurt the same every time; no matter how many years stood between the initial heartbreak, the thought of losing Jake had always been the worst one ever.

“Tell me about the song.” She whispered, pulling you out of your own head in hopes you’d share the sorrow with her, just to make it a little easier to digest.

With a shaky breath, you recounted the memories that you’d kept locked up for so long, finally allowing someone to help you carry the weight of them. She listened intently to every word you had to say, hanging on to the stories and keeping them as safe as you had the whole time. There was no one in the world you trusted quite like her, knowing that you could confess anything and she’d still extend a helping hand. You were lucky to have her, grateful to call her your best friend, but you knew that even she could not begin to ease the pain from this.

“I just… I wish things were different for us, you know? Like, I always knew we should have been more, that we shouldn’t have ended like that.” You let out a ragged sigh, finishing your retelling with the sentiment that haunted you for so long. “He tried to stay friends, and he tried so hard, but I had to stop. A few days after I got to school, I had to stop talking to him, because I loved him too much. Friends was torture back then, but now I feel stupid for cutting him off. Now I know that having him around would have been better than this.”

“Y/N, you have to reach out to him.” She urged, combing her fingers through your hair. “If it’s been this long and you still feel that way about him, you can’t let it go.” She tied your hair back in a ponytail, keeping it away from your face until you calmed down. Your cheeks were crimson, burning with heat as the sadness ran its course. Your eyes were swollen, your head aching, and you wished it could be that easy.

“After six years, Mel?” You didn’t mean to sound so condescending, but the tone slipped out without a second thought. “We’re totally different people now. I bet he doesn’t even think about me anymore.”

“You don’t know that, though.” She argued her point, squeezing your shoulders ever so slightly. “He could be sitting in his room, talking to his best friend like this. He might still be hurting, too, and maybe he’s scared to reach out because he thinks you forgot about him.” She let the thought hang in the air for a moment, not pressing any further until you responded. You blinked hard, wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands. The coolness of your skin felt nice against your face, bringing you back to earth for a moment. When the silence became too much for her, she spoke again. “You never know unless you try, Y/N. You can’t live the rest of your life wondering. Just reach out, say hi and ask how he’s doing. Even if he’s moved on, at least you’ll know for sure. Once that door is closed, you can move on too. Right now, you’ll be stuck thinking about him and wondering ‘what if’ forever.”

You didn’t want to tell her she was right, mostly because you were too afraid he would be moved on, in love with someone else and happier without you. You wanted it for him, because he deserved it, but you wanted to be the one that made him happy. The thought of someone else loving him made you sick, because you doubted that anyone could ever love him as much as you did. Actually, you doubted that anyone could love anyone as much as you loved Jake.

“I doubt he has the same number, anyway. I just have the one he had in high school.” You shook your head, finding yourself too hopeful already. You needed to shut it down before your heart broke even further.

“Try, Y/N.” Mel urged, unable to drop the topic. She wanted it for you, to see you happy and in love. She always wondered why romance never seemed to move you, and now she knew it’s always been because you were waiting for him. Instead of responding, you hit the rewind button on the player and pressed play again, already yearning to live in the memory of him singing it to you again. A sad smile crossed Mel’s lips, but she gave a curt nod, turning around and continuing to pack and move boxes of already sorted items.

You pulled your knees to your chest, resting your chin atop of them as you listened to the familiar melody. You wondered if maybe his number was the same, and if you reached out, he’d still have your contact saved in his phone. You wanted to know where he ended up, what he was doing and who he was doing it with. You wanted to know him, to hear his voice and have him say your name again. The need was pressing, and it grew harder to ignore the longer the song played.

Could he still feel the same? After this long, did he still think of you from time to time with hurt in his heart and regret in his mind? Was it possible that he was still hung up on you, or were you just an idiot who couldn’t comprehend letting go?

You had so many questions, the same ones that plagued you since the day you left. You didn’t know the answer, and you weren’t even sure if you wanted to.

However, Mel was right.

You would never know unless you tried, and for him, you would do anything. As much as it would kill you to hear how happy he was without you, it would still be better than never talking to him at all. You needed to know the man he grew into, even if it was for a fleeting moment in time. You wanted to know if his hair grew out, if he still played guitar, and if his laugh was still just as sweet as it was back then. You wanted to tell him you graduated, that you finally did it after so long spent talking about it.

You couldn’t waste the rest of your life hung up on a man who loved you when you were young. You couldn’t be eighty years old and still thinking of Jake Kiszka when you tried to sleep at night. More than that, you couldn’t open yourself up to love if you were still so in love with him.

“I’m going to grab something to eat.” Mel said, hovering in the doorway of your room. When you didn’t so much as look her way, she turned towards the stairs and walked out of sight.

You needed to reach out. You needed to try, just like she said. Even if the conversation sealed shut the door you always wished to open again, it would give you closure, and you might finally be able to move on. Right now, moving on was laughable, and it was something you never believed you could do.

Mel was right, and so right that it was impossible to ignore her.

Even if his number changed, or if you were blocked, you would finally know for sure. You took a large gulp of breath as you stood to your feet, Wild Horses still playing softly in the background as you stepped towards your bed. You grabbed your phone from the mattress, unlocking the screen and clicking on your contacts. You gulped down the ball of anxiety stuck in your throat as you selected the name you never thought you’d speak again. There was still a red heart beside his name, something you couldn’t bear to change. You opened a new text thread, the empty screen sending a shiver down your spine as you recounted the endless ‘I love you’s’ once held inside the chat.

Your finger hovered over the keypad, your mind blank as you thought of what to say. There were so many things you always wanted to confess to him, that you were sorry and you missed him, or that you were wrong and never should have left. You wanted to be angry that he let you leave, and to be happy for all the love he gave you that carried you through until that very moment. You wanted to say everything and anything, but it wasn’t right. You couldn’t break the radio silence after so long with something so powerful, but you never knew how to keep it simple when it came to Jake. His name alone caught you in a storm of emotion, and the picture of his face in your mind nearly brought you to your knees.

You began to type, quickly stopping yourself with a shake of your head. It wasn’t right. What were you supposed to start with? How could you rekindle conversation with the only man you’d ever loved, after so long of loving him silently?

You started again, letting out a sigh as the words seemed to come out wrong yet again. You felt like an idiot, but you still stood in place, staring at the screen. Somehow, no matter how stupid you felt, putting the phone down felt wrong. You needed to do it, but you just didn’t know how.

You typed and re-typed the message so many times that your eyes crossed and your head began to spin. Your heart was thudding against your chest so intensely that it began to hurt, and you hadn’t even hit send yet.

“Come on, coward. You can do it.” You huffed, furrowing your brows as you hyped yourself up. “Stop overthinking it.”

And you did; when you stopped thinking, it seemed all the more easy.

You - 4:53pm

Hey, Jake. It’s Y/N. I know it’s been a while, and I’m not sure if this is even your number anymore, but I’m back in Michigan again, for good I think. When I’m in Michigan it always reminds me of you. I hope you’re doing okay, and I hope that this isn’t too weird. It’s strange being home, and I guess I was just thinking of you and wanted you to know that after all this time, you’re still on my mind.

With little hope and a lot of courage, you attached a song from Spotify to the text. You hit send, watching the blue line at the top of the screen slowly begin to slide across, signifying it was much too late to change your mind. It was slower than usual, making you believe he truly may have changed his number, or blocked you at the very least. If he did, you couldn’t blame him, because you’d been tempted to do the same.

Before you could spiral too far, the small chirp let you know that the text was delivered, and the words underneath the bubble read as such. Your heart drummed even faster, and you expected a wave of regret to take over, but it never came. Instead, your mind was calm, a strange peacefulness washing over you at the sight of his name in your phone again. Soon after, the song delivered too, the link turning into a shortcut. The album cover showed in a small square, and next to it showed the name of the song and the artist underneath. On the very opposite side, a small little play circle appeared, letting him preview a snippet before he opened the app.

“Wild horses

Couldn’t drag me away

Wild, wild horses

We’ll ride them someday

Wild horses

couldn’t drag me away

Wild, wild horses

We’ll ride them someday.”

You listened to the song playing over your speakers, your cheeks flushed and your lips upturned into a small smile. You wondered if it was too much, or if he would think you were weird for sending him the song, but deep down you believed that even if he did, some semblance of the man you used to love so dearly continued to remain. Even after all this time, the song would still be important to him, and just the same as back then, even after all this time, not even wild horses could drag you away from him.

TAGLIST: @anythingforjtk @highway-tuna @klarxtr @hollyco @thetroublegetssoloud71 @ageofbajabule @dannys-dream @raceb14 @watchingover-hypegirl @starshine-gvf

[fandxmslxt69]

Anything For You

Jake Lockley x f!reader

Warnings: Absolutely none, Jake Lockley is just a big fat cinnamon roll he is just so <3

A/N: Hi this was kind of self indulgent and written in like an hour or two to help feel better after school has officially ended. But it's also a little love note to @melodygatesauthor because Mel you're so special and our convo about this favourite boy made me think and you deserve a special treat because you're the specialest girl (Jake's words!! he has even confirmed it)

-Clem

Synopsis: Jake Lockley always takes care of his favourite girl.

Word count: 1336 (ahhh)

You shuffled into the lightly lit apartment, quietly closing the door behind you. You dropped your bag, rubbing your face as a yawn broke out of you and your shoulders sagged in exhaustion. There was no one to witness your tiredness but the moon as it peeked through the windows.

"Amor?" Jake's sleepy voice came, and soon he emerged from the bedroom, a soft sleepy smile on his face. "Thought I heard you," You smiled weakly. "Hi, didn't mean to wake you-" You started before he waved you off, wrapping an arm about you. "It's alright, amor. I was staying up but I didn't realise you were coming home so late," He kisses the top of your head, and immediately you melted into him, feeling the exhaustion and pain of the past few weeks bubble up and nearly spill over. Your eyes filled with tears but you were quick to press your face to Jake's chest, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist as you breathed him in. He grounded you, all three of them always did- whether from an epic night out or a really bad day, they always helped bring you home.

Jake frowned, hugging you back tightly. "Bebita? What's wrong?" You shook your head. "I'm tired, Jake. I'm so fucking tired of everything," If you only listened close enough, you could hear his heart squeeze and shattered at your words. You were almost fragile, your voice heavy with worries and problems and you looked ready to collapse. He didn't like seeing his girl hurting so much. "Oh amor..." He pressed his lips to your head, gently rubbing your back. "Mi poor princesa. You've been working so hard haven't you? Coming home late every night and leaving so early, when was the last time you had a good sleep, mm? Or a proper meal?" You shrugged, too tired to answer. Didn't matter, he knew. He gently squeezed your hips, then hooked a finger under your chin and lifted it up to face him. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, and for a second, your mind emptied of everything- everything but him and you in this moment, lips locked together in such a soft, delicate kiss it made you ache. You missed him. He pulled away, peppering small kisses all over your face. "I'm going to take care of you, okay bebita? You're going to relax and let me make you feel better, sí?" You nodded, "Okay..." He nodded too, sweeping you off your feet and into his arms as he carried you to the bathroom. "I'm gonna run you a bath, okay? And you're gonna sit in there and relax for at least an hour to yourself, while I make you something to eat. And then, we're going to sleep, and you're going to take the day off tomorrow," He stated as if all matters were already decided and sealed. He placed you down on the side of the tub when you reached the bathroom and turned on the hot water. "But- I have work tomorrow." "Like I said, take the day off," "I can't just do that," You frowned. He shook his head as he rummaged through the cabinets, pulling out your nice smelling candles and your favourite body oils and creams. "If you don't call them, I'm going to," "You wouldn't," He turned to you, grinning widely. "Sí, I would. And if I forget- which I won't- then Steven will. Or Marc. You don't want Marc to call them, would you?" That was an easy answer. Marc always get too angry if someone tried to deny you the day off. You nodded, sighing in defeat. "Okay. Day off tomorrow. Will you stay with me then?" He chuckled, kissing your temple. "Of course, princesa. Always," He smiled. "Now, off with the clothes," "Very demanding.." You teased, lifting your shirt over your head, followed by your pants, and then underclothes. He lifted you up, placing you very dramatically in the now full tub, and placing an equally dramatic kiss on your forehead. "I'm gonna wash your hair, bien? And then you can sit and relax until you want to come out," He knelt by the tub, smiling like the most precious man in the world as he squeezed out some shampoo into his hands and started carefully lathering it in your hair. You sigh in relief, feeling the tension slowly drift away as your body relaxes under his touch. Your mind began wandering as your eyes flutter shut while Jake rinses out your hair, humming quietly to himself. A while passed as he took care of you, giving you the treatment he always excelled at- pampering and devoting his full attention to every part of your body. He massaged your back and shoulders, working on the tense knots and helping melt away all the tension left in your body. You hadn't realised that you'd drifted in sleep until you felt him get up from beside you, and your body lost the warmth of his contact. "Where ya going'?" You mumbled, barely lifting your eyelids. He chuckled, "Goin' to make you some food, mi luna," He gave you a quick kiss on the lips. "You can come out when you're ready, bien? If not, I'll come find you when food is done," You giggled, sinking a little more into the water. "Okay...thank you, by the way it mea-" "Shhhhh," He pressed a finger to your lips. "Don't even start. Princesa you don't have to thank me for taking care of you, si? You're my girl, hm? I like taking care

don't make it sound like it's a burden," You kissed his finger, smiling a bit. "Okay. I love you," "I love you too, amor," He said, winking and then leaving the bathroom. You sighed, relaxing back into the warm water as your mind drifted back into a quiet hazy sleep.

You weren't sure how long passed before your eyes fluttered open again, your mind scrambling to get aware of its surroundings again. You yawned, slowly getting up and stretching out the fatigue. You had no idea how long you'd been in there, or if Jake had even come back to check up on you, but it didn't matter. You felt better, and that was that. You grabbed a towel, wrapping it around yourself as you stepped out of the tub and starting to dry yourself off. You hung the towel once done and put your hair up in its special towel, before pulling on your clothes. Well.. not your clothes, but Steven's comfy sweater and little shorts under. You waddle out of the bathroom, very slowly dragging yourself to the kitchen where you find Jake, in all his beautiful gorgeous glory, in a cute apron making a couple of sandwiches. You can't help but chuckle as you rush up to him, wrapping your arms around him from behind and pressing your face to his back. He stiffens at the sudden contact before relaxing when he realises it's you. "Hi bebita. Nice nap?" "Shut up, Lockley," You mumbled. He laughed as he finished off the food he made, smiling proudly to himself. He turned his body to face you, rubbing your sides gently. "Wanna watch a movie?" You shrugged. "Dunno," He hummed. "Bien, we can just eat and sit in silence," He kissed your forehead for what had to be the millionth time, before grabbing the tray of food and leading you to the couch. You sat down in Jake's lap, curling up as he wrapped a big cozy blanket around you.

You sat together in peaceful silence as you ate, watching some horrible National Geographic animal documentary and before long, the endless weeks started catching up to you as your eyelids grew heavy and you rested your head on Jake's chest, feeling his arms wrap tighter around you.

There was no doubting, you thought as you fell into a peaceful sleep, you knew your boys would do anything for you.

[miryum]

"Movie Night"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy's relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Chapter Warnings: Big Hero 6 spoilers

Series Masterlist

“Okay, so, the finalists are Chicken Little, Big Hero Six, or Spaceballs.”

“Spaceballs? Who nominated Spaceballs?” Tim asked. His tongue was already stained purple from his slushie.

“I did, because it’s a cinematic masterpiece,” Y/n said. “So what’s it gonna be? Chickens and aliens with amazing pop culture references thrown in, bot-fighting turned superheros, or a wonderful story about Mel Brooks and the guy from While You Were Sleeping?”

Dick and Steph voted for Chicken Little while Cass, Tim, and Damian for Big Hero Six. Jason, Y/n, and, surprisingly, Wayne voted for Spaceballs. (“It’s a classic.” “See?! Even the Captain agrees!”)

“We’re at a tie,” Dick said obviously.

“No shit, Sherlock.” Y/n rolled her eyes.

“Fuck off, Watson,” Damian said automatically.

“Grayson and Brown, which show do you prefer?” Wayne asked. He had a large box of popcorn next to him and was uncharacteristically wearing only khakis and a plaid button-up shirt.

“Big Hero Six,” they both said.

Y/n groaned loudly. “Fine.” She tugged the blanket off of Jason and wrapped it tightly around herself. Jason glared at her but didn’t say anything. 

In Bruce’s home theatre, Steph, Dick, Cass, Y/n, and Jason were seated in the front row, each with buckets of stove-made popcorn resting on the armchairs. Tim, Damian, and Bruce were in the back row with the promise of Clark joining them later when he was finished with his editorial. Clark had invited the team over to get to know them without Wayne’s knowledge. Y/n happily accepted and forced the rest of them to accept as well.

Y/n was cuddled next to Jason, curled around his arm. Steph secretly snapped a picture of the pair and Cass snickered. Cass leaned over and whispered something in Steph’s ear. Steph giggled and nodded. A ping radiated on the rest of the team’s phones and screens were sneakily looked at. “That’s becoming blackmail,” Dick whispered. 

Jason yanked the remote away from Dick and pressed play on the movie, grumbling. 

The opening theme started playing and Y/n and Dick hummed along dramatically.

“Okay, but why is Tadashi super hot?” Y/n whispered the moment he stepped on screen. Jason rolled his eyes.

“No idea,” Tim agreed. Y/n peeked back at him and nodded appreciatively. 

“They died when I was three, remember?” Hiro said from the screen. 

“I hate when movies over-explain like that,” Damian crossed his arms grumpily.

“Should I have picked up a parenting book? Probably!” Cass exclaimed before stuffing her face with a donut.

“I love Maya Rudolph!” Steph squealed.

“Do you think Cain grows up to be Aunt Cass?” Jason asked quietly.

“Ba-la-la-la-la,” Y/n mumbled with Baymax.

“I try to picture me without but I can’t! ‘Cause we could be immortals! I-i-i-i-immortals!” Dick bounced in his chair and sang along to the track.

“Sing it, Dickie!” Y/n shouted, pumping a fist in the air.

“There are many improbabilities in this movie,” Bruce rolled his eyes and took a sip of his tea. (“Like Spaceballs doesn’t?!” Steph exclaimed.)

“I agree,” Tim said. “Though I would love to test some of the stunts. Do you think the precinct has enough funding to build an inflatable superhero?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“Okay, but I feel really bad for Callaghan,” Y/n mumbled towards the end. “He just wants to find his daughter. He’s too overcome by grief to think straight. He’s just like Hiro, actually. The only difference is that Hiro had friends to help him past it and cope, while Callaghan had no one. It also ties into ethics. How far would you go for a loved one? We can see Hiro’s character arc with him coping with Tadashi’s death and then Baymax’s, but Callaghan is stuck in the anger stage of grief. Maybe even the denial stage.” 

“Holy shit, L/n,” Tim said after a moment. “That was a really deep analysis of a children’s movie.” 

“And surprisingly accurate,” Damian added.

“How long have you been thinking about Big Hero Six?” Jason asked. Y/n simply shrugged in response, yawning. She had just finished a big case and hadn’t had time to sleep yet.

“How do your detectives see the horrors of the field every single day and come away emotionally unscathed,” Clark leaned towards his husband. “Yet cry over a Disney movie?”

“I’m unsure,” Bruce admitted.

Dick was currently sobbing into Cass’ shoulder and she was uncomfortingly patting him on the shoulder. Steph’s eyes were welling up and Tim was grasping her hand, needing the comfort. Damian was slowly munching on his popcorn, eyes wide and enthralled by the movie. Jason was doing his hardest not to move as Y/n softly slept on his shoulder. 

As the credits rolled, Dick quickly pressed play on the remote and Chicken Little immediately started playing. 

“Sarge!” Tim complained, just wanting to go home and sleep. Jason shushed him, not wanting to rouse Y/n. “Oh, pipe down, loveboy,” Tim hissed. “Some of us don’t have time for another movie.” 

“Timmy, you must’ve known that this night wouldn’t end with just one movie,” Steph rolled her eyes. “And stop acting as if you don’t love us. We all know you do.”

“Cass?” Jason asked softly so only she could hear. “Can I tell you something?” The woman hummed in response. “I- uh… I didn’t ask Rose to be my girlfriend. I- In fact, I thought it better if we remained friends.”

A smile filtered through Cass’ facade. “Good job, Todd. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks.” He glanced down at a sleeping Y/n. Her hair was mussed and her mouth slightly open. Y/n took a deep breath and shifted, pulling Jason’s arm even closer to her. “I think I made the right choice.” 

“I think you did too.”

“Should we leave them?” 

Steph looked helplessly at Clark who smiled softly. “Sure. They look too comfortable to disturb.” 

Damian slowly held up his phone and took a picture of Jason and Y/n. Y/n was tucked under Jason’s arm and his head rested on hers, both snoring softly. The blanket was draped over both of them and the fabric of Jason’s shirt was clenched in Y/n’s fist. 

“For detectives,” Wayne observed, “they aren’t the smartest.”

[thedarkcoven]

Me if I saw Jake: Oh god im sooooo gonna die happy

Prized Possession

Marc Spector + Steven Grant X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - Requested By @lonelyisamyw-0love

Kinks - Possessiveness + Double Penetration

Summary

Your boyfriends Steven and Marc finally give you something you've wanted to try.

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, the boys are in separate bodies, the boys are not related, poly relationship, double penetration, anal, p in v sex, p in v creampie, anal creampie, squirting, praise kink, soft marc, sex, smut

Word Count: 1,209

You, Steven and Marc had talked about this before, but you hadn’t done it until today. You’d been dating for a while, but you’d never taken them both at once, they usually took turns, and that was always fine with you, but not today. Today, you were on your back, laying against Marc’s chest with Steven in front of you. Steven’s hands were holding the backs of your knees, keeping you spread out for them.

“We got you all good and ready ahead of time baby, so this shouldn’t hurt too much, okay?” Marc said softly in your right ear.

You nodded, “okay.”

“I can feel you shaking love, you sure you’re ready for—”

“She can take it, she’s fine,” Marc cut him off with a forceful tone, “you can take anything right, honey? Just make sure to breathe through it.”

You took a deep breath and nodded again, closing your eyes as Marc pushed through your well prepped, lesser used hole. Your eyes shot open wide, meeting with Steven’s beautiful but concerned gaze. You gave him a gentle but wobbly smile to reassure him that you were fine.

He looked down, seeing Marc’s thick length disappearing into you, stretching your hole out around him. Steven impatiently lined himself up to your cunt, feeling the slick of your arousal coating his girth while he dragged it over your folds. Steven’s grip around the backside of your knees tightened as he slid forward, bottoming himself out inside your wet heat. His entire body trembled as he felt Marc through the thin barrier.

“Oh shit, love.”

The three of you let out a unified and pleasure filled groan into the apartment. They began alternating thrusts, pistoning back and forth into you at a moderate pace, letting you get used to having yourself stuffed with both of them at once. Steven tossed his head back, messy curls falling into his eyes while Marc kissed the side of your neck, just below your earlobe from behind you. You’d never felt so full in all your life, you felt like no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t breathe properly. 

“How’s that feel, honey? How’s it feel being fucked in both of your little holes, hm? I can feel you squeezing so tight around me…fuck.” The breath in his lungs punched out, hot on your cheek.

“I feel so…so full, Marc. So. Full.” You grabbed Steven’s strong biceps for stability while his hands stayed firmly around the back of your thighs, holding you open.

“Shit, you feel that Steven? Baby if you don’t relax I’m not going to l-last.” Marc reached one hand up to squeeze around your breast and the other moved between your legs, fingers rolling over your swollen clit.

You arched into them both, angling in a way that made Steven shudder and glide in deeper, bumping your cervix on the next thrust.

“Oh my—love, you feel so good, look how well you’re taking us. These tight little holes are always so good and ready for us love, they know who they belong to, right? That’s why you drip like a little fountain when we take you, yeah?”

“Y-yeah, yes Steven—ohhh!”

“You’re doing so good, such a good girl for us, honey. Taking us both so well.” His middle finger continued to glide over your hardened clit, moving faster now.

“Can feel you Marc, fuckin’ her so good, can feel it on my—oh I can feel it inside her. Go faster please.” Steven looked at you with lust etched into every pore, “you can take it right love? Been doing great so far, it just feels so…please Marc, fuck—please.”

You whimpered as Marc started fucking you faster at Steven’s command, both cocks punching into you at an unforgiving pace. Marc shushed you, nipping your neck softly and moving his finger over your clit in a more satisfying motion. You felt the unmistakable burning in your core…you were getting close.

Marc could feel Steven too while he thrusted harder and faster into your ass. He knew you’d tell him if it was too much. Your shaky moans and whimpers of pure intoxicated pleasure told him you were doing more than fine. 

“Oh love, your sounds are so pretty, that must feel good, yeah? Having two big cocks fuckin’ both your holes at once? You look so lovely.”

Steven looked down at where you were connected and tilted his head. Your pussy lips were swallowing his girth, while your tight rim did the same for Marc. He could see how your arousal dripped out of your hole, trickling over his cock and leaking down onto Marc’s length. You were wetter than he’d ever seen you. When he looked back into your eyes, you looked like a cock drunk mess…just how they liked you.

“You doing alright, honey? Oh fu—of course you are, can feel you about to—oh there you go, feel that, Steven? There you go baby, let it out.”

You were nearly screaming, body tensing while they continued fucking both of your holes through your orgasm. You threw your head back, feeling Marc latch his lips down over your throat. Your mind stopped working completely.

Steven’s and Marc’s did too. The way your holes squeezed around them, clamping down in waves while they continued alternating their rocking hips. They were close, but not quite there yet. You were completely spent though. Marc didn’t stop rubbing your clit, despite your cries for him to stop.

“Shh, you’re ok baby, I’m almost there, we’re almost there. Come on Steven, keep going. Shhh, honey, I know you can take it. You’re doing so good for us.”

It wasn’t their assault on your holes that made it difficult, it was the way Marc was still toying with your clit. You couldn’t take the over stimulation. It was building inside, and you felt like you were going to…oh no you were about to…

“Steven, Steven move I’m gonna—FUCK!”

Marc knew what it was you were doing. They’d never made you squirt before, but oh you sounded so beautiful when you did. Steven could tell right away that this was something new, not urine, not cum, but something else entirely, and it was amazing. Your entire body was trembling over them, cunt clenching around him even harder. Steven’s abdomen was covered in this new liquid. It soaked him and trickled down his thighs to the bedding. Marc was…the man was a genius.

“Did you just—? You’re so wet, love, I’m gonna— not gonna make it love. Oh god, oh god —ahhh!”

“Yeah that’s it, Steven, fill her little hole, you feel that, honey? You like getting stuffed full, don’t you? Don’t you? Oh shiiiit— gonna fill you up too baby—shit!”

They were both groaning through their simultaneous orgasms while they fucked their cum deeper into you. You felt numb at the end there, like your body was just a sack of potatoes stuck between them. When they were finished, both going soft inside of you, they each were kissing your cheeks and lips telling you how perfect you were for them, and how well you did. As you all came back to reality, the door to the bedroom opened and the three of you looked over in surprise…Jake.

Moon Knight Masterlist

Melody's 1k Celebration Masterlist

Melody's 1k Celebration Post

[xx-reverie-xx]

Hello!

MDNI 🎠 Skye - 21 - POC -ENBY & AROACE SPEC - They/Them - Neurodivergent - Chronic Daydreamer - VERY multifandom - I love women 🎠 MDNI

REQUESTS: CLOSED

Taken Anon Emojis:

🎠🥀I am a lil’ bit of an amateur writer. I have been writing off and on for years, and now I’m confident about writing some fan fiction! I have not written fanfic in a hot minute, so I am a bit rusty. Just bear with me!

🎠🥀Most of my writings will be with a gender neutral reader and use they/them pronouns unless otherwise stated or requested :)! I will do my best to not include physical descriptions as well unless otherwise requested.

🎠🥀I will do my best to write all characters to the best of my ability. CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is welcome!

RULES AND FANDOMS BELOW THE CUT

I WILL NOT WRITE:

Fetish content (bathroom stuff, feet stuff, etc), some hard kinks, pedo shit, real people.

Porn without plot. Unpopular opinion, I know. #smutwithfeelingsftw

Character x Character

I WILL WRITE:

Fluff, angst, the basic stuff. Smut if the mood takes me

One shot/drabbles, headcanons, multi-character reactions.

Platonic relationships.

Song inspired requests.

Poly relationships (or I will do my best to).

I’m down for most stuff, so just shoot your shot!

FANDOMS & CHARACTERS I WILL WRITE FOR (more to come!)

Key:

NOT MENTIONED = I will NOT write for this character

PLAIN = I’m will write for this character.

ORANGE = Character I MIGHT write for if I get a request that sparks inspiration.

PINK = Would LOVE to write for this character.

AVATAR - James Cameron Movies

Jake Sully, Neytiri, Ronal, Tonowari, Tsu’tey, Quaritch, Grace Augustine

THE BOYS

Butcher, Hughie, Annie/Starlight, M.M., Kimiko, Frenchie, Maggie/Queen Maeve, Old and New Black Noir, Reggie/A-Train

ARCANE

Sevika, Vi, Jinx/Powder, Caitlyn Kiramman, Mel Medarda, Ekko , Jayce Talis, Viktor, Vander, Silco

MARVEL

Loki, Agatha Harkness, Steve Rogers, The Wolverine/Logan Howlett

CALL OF DUTY: MODERN WARFARE (remakes)

Ghost/Simon Riley, John Price, Soap/John Mactavish, Gaz/Kyle Garrick, Kate Laswell, Alejandro Vargas, Nikolai

BALDUR’S GATE III

Wyll Ravengard, Gale Dekarios, Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Karlach Cliffgate, Halsin, Isobel Thorm, Aylin (honestly, there are so many characters so just feel free to request any bg3 character! the only one i will not write for is astarion.)

OVERWATCH

Moira O’Deorain, Sloan/Venture (the big two. i am down to write any overwatch character so feel free to request.)

RULES

Zero Tolerance for Minors. Minors, do NOT interact. You will be blocked immediately.

Please only submit a request ONCE, & Remember to be patient. I have a busy life outside of this blog.

Do not use my work for Character AI or anything AI related.

Do not repost my work EVER!

Just be respectful.

🎠have a lovely day🎠

[seenoversundown]

Come Back For Me Masterpost

Daniel Wagner x Melody (Female OC) New Chapters on Wednesdays!

Second Chance | Single Mom | Highschool Sweethearts

Summary:

*This is an AU Series*

Warnings:

Single Mom, Mentions of Loss / Grief, Anxiety, Fluff, Eventual Smut, American Sign Language

(Warnings will be updated along with the series)

Word Count: 3k

Chapters:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25

Extras:

Moodboard

Playlist:

Taglist Currently:

@gvfsstardust , @myleftsock , @imleavingyoufornewyork , @mindastreamofcolours , @dont-go-home-without-me , @literal-dead-leaf , @mackalah , @edgingthedarkness , @writingcold , @i-love-gvf , @takenbythemadness , @earthgrlsreasy , @peaceloveunitygvf , @violet-hayes , @gretavanfan , @musicspeaks , @jazzyfigz , @demonrat444 , @josh-iamyour-mama , @wrldabomination

The Caravel Tavern Masterpost | Masterlist (One Shots / Other Fics)

[suhnandmoon]

2024 tumblr wrapped

thank you to @dibidibidismynameisleeknow for tagging me in this :D this has been a special year for me on tumblr. i ended my two year hiatus when i wasn't planning on coming back and met so many awesome authors and people on here :) i've only been active for again for around half this year but its nice to look back and see just how much i made (ignore the fact that we are two days into the new year.)

2024 fic stats

number of works posted

5 smaus!!! 1 fic and a few scenarios

fics in progress

way too many… currently 3 smaus and a few written fics that wont see the light of day

total words written:

12k (15k including s4u’s transcripts 😭) damn yall. i didnt realize i wrote this much. shoutout my one written fic that carried my word count

top 5 posts

enha request: how enha reacts to your lockscreen being a different member (it makes me laugh that this is my top post)

stupid for you (sunghoon x reader)

dance with me baby! (heeseung x reader)

beat it! (riki x reader)

starlight (renjun x reader)

most recent fic

beat it! (riki x reader)

longest fic

soul eater with 8.5k words by default just bc its the only thing i wrote this year. smau with the most chapters is starlight

favorite fic i wrote

you already know. dance with me baby… meet me in elwynn is a close second though. ironically my least popular smaus but who gaf!!! me and loser hee will always be here.

goal for 2025

i need to conquer my fear of written fics!!! i want to write more. hopefully post my jake fic… also to stay active this next year and not drop off the earth... like before...

fav fics i read this year

you already know. pur autre vie by @starlightkun (park jisung x reader)

i also read her strawberry sunday anthology this year (even tho it was posted last year) beautiful beautiful. always mel's number one fan

hwarang by @pasteidolons (seventeen x reader, different member routes)

my history with this series is real. so happy its being brought back for svt... one of the best works i've read on tumblr everrrrr

to be honest i didnt read a lot of kpop fics at all this year. im so behind. heres a hawks fic i loved. i've been on my mha grind recently. here's a touya fic too.

my fic rec acc is @sixyearsfromforever

tagging my mutuals. if any of you want to do it, i really want to see your recaps :) i get nervous tagging people but know i would like to see everyones!!

[shinycupcakebaker]

Hey, Mel! I don’t know what was going on with tumblr yesterday, but every time I tried to find your blog, it said it didn’t exist. 🙄 Stupid tumblr. 😒 Anyway, here is a list of my favorite Top Gun writers on here:

@discount-shades - She has two canon Jake series that are awesome and she just started a Jake Western AU (they’re all outlaws) that’s amazing so far.

@teacupsandtopgun - She has a phenomenal Jake x OC (Felicity March) that is sweet and spicy! She also has some gut-wrenching stories for Fanboy and Bob.

@topgun-imagines - She writes for both movies and her current Jake series is so heartbreakingly good!

@sometimesanalice - She mostly writes for Bradley and her Like I Can series is enough to make you swoon.

@desert-fern - She’s in the middle of a Jake series featuring a team of Navy Seals that enlist the Daggers’ help to take out a corrupt foreign power in the Middle East. Her Reader, Bear, is the commander of the Seal Team and she gives Jake sooo much shit! She also wrote a really sweet Fanboy oneshot about the Reader being completely overwhelmed with work and life and how amazingly sweet Mickey is about it. (It’s not quite a “sick” fic, but it is comforting)

@mayhemmanaged - She has two new series (both AUs) with Jake. One is being cowritten with @cassiemitchell about a group of vigilante women helping to protect abused women and all them are married to the men on the task force who are trying to catch them! May’s other story is about a dystopian society where Jake’s family are basically American royalty and he falls in love with a woman who isn’t “noble.”

@roosterforme - She has soooo many Bradley series. She also has some oneshots of Bradley, Jake, and Bob that are really good.

@tongue-like-a-razor - She is in the middle of two Jake series that I love. Less Talk and Brother’s Best Friend (Bradley’s little sister is the Reader in that one) they’re both slow burns which I love!

@startrekfangirl2233-writes - She’s in the middle of a kiss prompt challenge and has about a dozen one shots with the guys from both movies and different types of kisses. She also wrote a Bob oneshot that absolutely broke my heart!

@ohgodnotagainn - She’s in the middle of a coffee shop AU with Bob and the Daggers and it’s just so sweet and fluffy!

@beyondthesefourwalls - She’s writing a Bradley series about an ex-girlfriend that comes back into his life, but she’s got this creepy coworker that’s stalking her and making her life a living hell. It’s so good so far, and we’re only on Part 5!

@wkndwlff - She has some Bradley oneshots that are really good! The Sunday Scaries isn’t a “sick” fic, but Bradley is super comforting in that one.

@sylviebell - She just started a Bradley x Natasha series that seems like it’s going to be amazing! It’s a fake-dating, friends to lovers fic and those are some of my favorite fics!

@say-al0e - I’ve only read one of her fics, Home Run, but it’s a friends to lovers with Bradley that just blew me away.

@sweetwhispersofchaos - She writes Bob x Phoenix and I’ve only read one of her stories, Tomorrow, but it was so good I can’t wait to binge the rest of her masterlist.

I hope you find enjoy a few of the fics from these awesome ladies! BTW, I’ve got the sequel to That Part written and queued up for Tuesday. (I might have already told you that, but I can’t remember.) It’s a bit spicy, so be warned! 😏😏🔥🔥 It’s very music-centered and I’ve created a couple playlists that I’m going to post this weekend if you want to listen and set the mood for the story. ❤️

Becca!!! Oh my goodness!!! You are amazing beyond words!! I will check out all of these masterlists. I think I have browsed a few of them but I will dive deep into them all. I did find a sweet Bob x sick reader fic. Reader woke up with strep on their birthday. I had to giggle, only b/c my birthday is next week (27th) and if I wake up sick(er), I will not be happy. But, I’m feeling better. Everything seems to have moved from my head into my chest. I’d rather deal with a cough and not sore teeth and sinuses. Lol

I cannot wait to read part 2 of That Part!! Bring on the spice!! You’re awesome!! ❤️❤️🥰🥰

[wrightingwithalex]

Hello everyone!

My name is Alex, but people also call me Lex, Lexi, Lexus... Whatever at this point LMAO. I'm not new to tumblr, but I am new to posting on it. I don't really know how all of this works yet so bear with me!

Just to give you a heads-up, I'm really good at English, but it still isn't my first language, so if you see any spelling or grammar mistakes, don't mind it😭

So, I'm a writer, and my content is going to be character x reader 99% of the time. What I was thinking is that you guys send me requests for characters and scenarios you want me to write about (of course, as long as they are a character I know of) because my inspiration has been very lacking lately 💀. I will now give a list of all the characters I write for, as well as some rules for when you send asks.

By the way, if you want to remain anonymous, you can claim emoji's so that I know who you are!

I WILL WRITE:

Ace Attorney -> any character within the Phoenix Wright trilogy (Ace Attorney, Justice For All, Trials and Tribulations) 'cause those are the only games I've played so far

Sally Face -> Sal, Larry, Ash

Resident Evil -> Leon, Ada, Carlos, Ethan, Claire

Brooklyn 99 -> Jake, Amy, Rosa, Charles

Hunter x Hunter -> Kurapika

Minecraft Story Mode -> Jesse (male and female), Lukas, Petra

The Last of Us -> Ellie, Joel, Dina, Abby

Five Nights at Freddy's (movie) -> Mike, Vanessa, Steve Raglan/William Afton

Inside job -> Reagan, Brett

Arcane -> Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Mel, Victor, Sevika

Assassination Classroom –> Karma

Genshin Impact –> Albedo, Alhaitham, Arlecchino, Ayaka, Ayato, Childe, Clorinde, Cyno, Eula, Furina, Ganyu, Hu Tao, Itto, Jean, Kazuha, Keqing, Kokomi, Lyney, Mona, Navia, Neuvillette, Nilou, Raiden, Shenhe, Tighnari, Venti, Wanderer, Wriothesley, Xianyun, Yae Miko, Yelan, Yoimiya, Zhongli, Beidou, Bennett (nothing more than a kiss 'cause he's a minor), Candace, Charlotte, Fischl (nothing more than a kiss 'cause she's a minor), Gaming, Gorou, Heizou, Kaeya, Kuki Shinobu, Lisa, Lynette, Ningguang, Noelle, Rosaria, Kujou Sara, Sucrose, Thoma

mostly fem!reader and gn!reader –> female characters will be with fem!reader by default (gn!reader only if you request it), male characters are with gn!reader by default (fem!reader only if you request it)

I WILL NOT WRITE:

smut -> kissing yes, anything more than that no; I still feel awkward writing it, let alone uploading it LOL

male!reader (sorry :C)

non-con and dub-con -> I believe in consent

pregnancy trope

extreme age gap -> anything more than a 15 year age difference is a no

pedophilia

P.S. I'm a music major and it can get extremely busy sometimes so it's gonna take some time for me to write, but I don't think it should take any more than a week.

Minors can interact, since I'm not writing any smut!

That's gonna be all from me for today. I'll update this list if I get a new show/game I'm interested in, or if there's a change in the rules. I look forward to your requests, and I can't wait to start writing them! xx

[soft-girl-musings]

🥹 thanks buddy

couldn't leave them hanging lol

Last Night -- Chapter 3 (Armistice)

chapter 1 chapter 2

cross-posted to ao3

Jake Lockley x fem!Reader

tags: the long-awaited comfort to all that Hurt

wc: 1,755

fic summary: You're usually tight-lipped about your frustrations, especially when it comes to Jake. But a drink too many leaves you spilling your thoughts one by one.

__________

You don't call him that day.

Or the day after.

Maybe it's pride that keeps you from reaching out. Maybe it's fear, or some morbid curiosity to see how long he'll stay away. 

Whatever the reason, it seems naive to simply call or text as if nothing's happened, to assume you can just pick up where you left off. The thought of how much he must hate you right now is enough to cement your radio silence.

The apartment is quieter than usual without Jake, Steven, or Marc underfoot. You each lead your own lives, but there’s been a fairly predictable rhythm you’ve fallen into together; this might be the longest you’ve gone without knowing when you'll see them next. As you go about your day, mixing with the guilt is a nagging feeling at the back of your mind, as if you’ve forgotten something.

If only you could forget, simply move on without addressing the issue at hand. But you don’t know what to say. You doubt a run-of-the-mill apology would be sufficient.

So you lean into the solitude. That first night, you scoot your pillow to the middle of the bed and sprawl out. It’s been a long time since you’ve slept alone; most nights you either wind up tangled with Steven, with Marc resting neatly beside you, or cocooned in Jake’s arms. You stretch and sigh: you may have to get used to this.

The next morning is just as unnerving, the additional hustle and bustle missing from your own routine. You eye the empty bathroom counter as you get dressed: it seems so daunting, so final.

You drink your coffee alone. There’s no one sitting across from you regaling you with trivia, making a dry remark at your brewing method, or sidling up beside you with an attitude fresher than his morning breath. Maybe it’s the caffeine, but you shake at the absence.

The day goes by in solitude again.

That night, you pile your pillows beside you. The bed feels colder than the night before.

__________

Fate (or karma) forces your hand on the third day.

You can be absentminded, but you're in rare form this week. So when you hear the door click behind you when you step out to receive a delivery, it takes a moment to register your mistake.

You're locked out.

And there's no spare key.

That fact doesn't stop you from searching the doorframe, the welcome mat, every inch of the space around your apartment door before you slide to the ground, head in your hands.

They have the spare.

It was a big step for you: giving them a key to your place. Specifically, giving Jake the key. You'd met him last, and wanted him to feel special, like he was an equal part of this relationship. You'd made a big show of it too, wrapping his key in a box and presenting it ceremoniously one night at dinner. It was, in his words, cute as hell.

–Now, however, it adds insult to injury, since Jake was also the one who'd remind you to make a copy for times like this. 

You groan, letting your head thud against the door. You know what you have to do.

Thankfully you'd kept your phone with you. After wallowing for another minute or two, you finally send the text:

I'm locked out of my apartment. Can you come let me in?

Hardly a minute goes by before you get a response:

On my way.

You anxiously bite your lip when you read it. Usually they initial their texts, depending on who's responding. Maybe they won't stay long. Can't say I blame them.

Fifteen minutes go by before you hear footsteps in the stairwell. You shoot up, not sure how close you should stand to the door. You settle for leaning on the wall between the neighbor's door and yours, distracting yourself with the damned parcel that started all this.

The door to the stairwell opens. Your breath catches when you recognize the flat cap of the man you'd hoped to have a bit more time to prepare to see.

Jake approaches wordlessly, barely acknowledging your presence. From where you stand, you can see the slight shadow of stubble that mirrors the color under his eyes. He looks… tired.

He takes his key ring out and fumbles with it for a moment, searching for your apartment key. He still hasn't looked at you. You open your mouth to speak, but he beats you to it.

"I got worried when you didn't call."

You scoff, the sound slipping out before you even register it. You see his jaw clench, and your hand flies to cover your mouth.

"Sorry," you blurt out. "It's just… that's kinda what led to this whole situation, isn't it? Irony, or whatever," you add with a forced smile. He raises an eyebrow.

"Hm." He grunts as he turns the key, unlocking your apartment door. He holds it open, eyes to the ground again. 

You mutter your thanks and brush past him, entering quickly. He doesn't budge.

You set your package down and turn back to the door.

"Jake…" Your voice comes out more defeated than you'd intended. His eyes finally meet yours. 

Oh, he looks exhausted.

"Do you… want some coffee?" You shift your weight nervously as you ask. "I made a fresh pot. Well, it was fresh before-"

"Sure." He steps inside, letting the door close behind him.

Your forced smile softens into a real one. "Good… okay, good."

You leave Jake standing at the door as you rush to the kitchen, a strange sense of urgency taking over. You select his favorite mug from the dish rack and pour his coffee, adding some sweetened condensed milk (he'd never admitted to liking it, but you've always seen him sneak it in after you pour yours).

Holding his mug and the one you'd made earlier, you head to the kitchen table. Jake follows, setting his coat on the couch. He takes the seat directly across from you.

The silence of your empty apartment  pales in comparison to the deafening quiet that now hangs between you. Jake takes a sip of his coffee; you notice his eyes light up a bit. He still doesn't say anything, but his shoulders visibly relax.

"How did you-" "Jake, I wanted to-"

You both pause, and a nervous laugh slips out before you can stop it. Jake begins again.

"How did you feel... after? In the morning?"

You shrug. "I got the hangover I deserved."

"Don't say that."

"Why not? It's true. Karma's a bitch."

You fidget with the handle of your coffee mug. It's now or never.

 "Jake, when I said... what I said, I need you to know I didn't mean it. I don't mean it."

A sad smile tugs at his lips. "I think we both know that alcohol can do a lot of things, but it can't make you a liar. Quite the opposite."

Your hand tenses around your mug. "...I guess I did mean it, a little. But I said it in the worst possible way, I cannot emphasize that enough."

 He sips his coffee and looks away. After a moment, he speaks again.

"Do you really feel like I suffocate you?" His eyes are low, as is his voice.

"No, of course not." He gives you a look, one you know all too well. Bullshit.

You shift in your seat. "Fine. In the spirit of honesty: I feel... trapped, sometimes. Like we can't move on until you hear everything that's happening in my head."

Jake leans forward, resting his folded arms on the table. "Really," he asks, his tone measured.

You nod. You hate how your voice shakes as you continue. "It was fine at first, but sometimes… sometimes it can be a bit... much, you know? Like, I don't always want a solution, or to tell you everything right away. Sometimes I need to feel things on my own before I talk about it."

You finally reach for him, your fingertips grazing the tabletop. "But that doesn't excuse what I said. Jake… I'm so sorry."

You wouldn't blame him if he chose to walk away. But you hold his gaze, silently pleading with him to stay. To fight, to say something. Say anything.

Jake's brow furrows as he chooses his words. 

"Querida..." he trails off. You sigh in relief at the endearment.

"You hurt me. I guess I pushed you, and I’m sorry for that, but what you said in the car... that hurt." 

"Totally understand. I was out of line–"

You're cut off by the sudden touch of his hand, his thumb tracing slow circles on your palm. The crease in his brow softens as his gaze returns to you.

"But… I forgive you." He squeezes your hand to emphasize the three words you've been longing to hear.

You lace your fingers with his, tears threatening to form. "You're going easy on me, Lockley."

"Maybe," he smirks, a playful glimmer in his still-tired eyes. "But I think we could use easy right now."

You nod, relief blossoming in your chest with every passing second. "We're still finding our rhythm," you offer, squeezing his hand in return.

"I know, I know, just... don't cut me out, okay?" 

"Never."

You eagerly move to the seat closest to him, budding elation slicing through the  previous tension surrounding you both. It feels good to be this close again.

"I promise to not cut you out, but I do want better boundaries for us, okay? So we know where the line is," you add as you grasp his free hand in your own.

"Sounds like a plan, cariño." Jake leans in, tugging you closer. "I'm all ears."

Your cheeks heat at the proximity. The red tinting his own features is enough to confirm he’d missed you just as much as you'd missed him.

“Let’s sort that out later.” You grin up at him. “Want to hear what Evan did last week?”

Jake kisses the back of your hand, his lips curling into an impish smile against your skin. "Please, I’ve been itching to know what that pendejo did for days.”

So there you sit, hand in hand as you spill the beans on your less-than-ideal week. The remaining stress rolls off you as you speak, Jake hanging on your every word. Both cups of coffee grow cold, but you couldn’t care less. You’ve missed this. And as you talk, you know the feeling’s mutual.

You’ll be just fine.

__________

A/N: ok i'm a bit emotional bc in my 15 years of reading/brainstorming fics, this is the first story i've ever finished. definitely celebrating tonight. thank you to everyone who supported this angsty brainchild; i'm excited to write more Moon Boys this fall!

thank you so much for reading <3

tag list: @lunar-ghoulie @romanarose @casa-boiardi @chrissymodi-frost @shadystarlightgentlemen @ivystoryweaver (y'all rock, lmk if you want to be kept in the loop for future stories!)

[builtbybrokenbells]

Melodic Memories | Track 6: Ain’t No Sunshine - Bill Withers

In a tattered old box shoved deep down in the corner of an overfilled closet, a lifetimes worth of memories lie dormant at the bottom waiting to be rediscovered.

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: sexting?, explicit photographs, making out, angst, crying, heartbreak, high school breakups, breakups, estranged parent/strained parental relationship, depression, high school drama, anxiety, mentions of drinking, drinking, mentions of hookups/one night stands, unrequited love, PTSD mentions/explanations of reactions and behaviours due to PTSD, mentions of addiction/drugs, smoking, swearing, fluff, sorry if i miss any!

Sorry for the wait, but thank you for being patient with me! I love you guys to no end!! As always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻

Also a special shout-out to @gretavangroupie and @gretavanmoon for always keeping me on track, putting up with my craziness, and for the unwavering support and encouragement 🤍 melodic memories wouldn’t be what it is without you 😌

Her POV

“Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone

It’s not warm when she’s away

Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone

And she’s always gone too long

Anytime she goes away”

Your phone chiming beside your laptop broke your attention from the endless list of Indeed applications you had half finished. You landed back in your chair, careful not to disturb Ozz, who was sound asleep on your thighs without a care in the world. You tapped the screen, hoping it would be a breath of hope for a job offer by a principal who was also plagued with insomnia, but instead realized it was a breath of hope for a much different reason. Jake’s contact name sat below the clock on your Lock Screen, letting you know that after everything, he still didn’t have the heart to hate you.

For some odd reason, you almost wished he did.

Hurting him was something you never wanted to do, but since meeting him, it was all you could do. Despite breaking his heart all over again, he never gave up hope on being friends, even if the label was bullshit and completely unfulfilling.

Being friends with him was hard, mostly because you didn’t want to be, and because you didn’t know how to be. Loving him was a constant state, and putting that to the side proved to be a daunting task despite you being the one to suggest it. Since the day you met him, you were head over heels, and even in his years of absence, it never went away. Being cordial without crossing lines and being friendly without any hidden agenda was difficult, but because you had promised him, you were committed to trying.

Since your talk with Mel the day prior, you felt better about your feelings, but still not certain. There was so much up in the air, still so many things that would not resolve without time, but you had taken it upon yourself to respond to his messages and keep up the friendly communication. It hurt, but it felt better than whatever the hell the previous few days had been. You were sober, still sad, but trying your best to make life as normal as possible despite the burgeoning sorrow that was begging to take over again. It was easier when you were burying yourself in the task of finding work, but that seemed to be the only distraction.

When it came down to it, your current state could only be blamed on your own stubbornness and stupidity.

You clicked on the notification, your Face ID immediately bringing you to the text chain. You scanned the message, seeing no words or greetings, but instead a link to Spotify. With furrowed brows, you clicked on it and waited for the app to load. Once it did, you wished you had ignored it completely. The familiar album cover sent a wave of tears rushing down your cheeks, without warning and without any hesitation. It seemed like a common theme as of recent.

Ain’t No Sunshine - Bill Withers

For a little extra salt in the wound, you pressed play and let the slow melody fill your ears. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the brief moment of pain be felt instead of pushing it down and letting it fester.

Another text popped up on the screen, force of habit making you click on it as soon as it appeared. When it brought you back to Jake’s thread, you noticed an image attatched below the song. You recognized the sight immediately, briefly considering blocking him and changing your name so you never had to feel this way again.

Still, you knew that running away would not rid you of the curse of loving a Kiszka. You tried it once before, and it left you in the exact same situation you ran away from.

For someone who said he would try his best to be just friends, him sending you pictures of him in his childhood bedroom and a link to a song that was an explicit telling of his heart was not very friend-like.

At the same time, you crying over said instances was also very far from friendly.

After only a few troublesome days, it seemed apparent that friends was never in the cards for the two of you.

You looked back at the bed, finding Mel sleeping soundly under the covers, unbeknownst to your troubles just a few feet away. If she were awake, you wondered what she would say. Would she push you to respond, to tell him that the world seemed bleak and lonely without him, too? Without even debating it, you already knew the answer.

Of course she would. It was an incredibly stupid thing to ask.

In fact, she would probably tell you exactly that, or she would be a little more coarse and unapologetic about it. So you drafted up a response with the ghost of Mel’s advice in the back of your mind. If he could be open and honest, so could you. Your fingers trembled as you typed your answer, stopping every now and then to gather your thoughts before continuing on. Eventually, you let out a breath of relief, hitting send on the text and watching as the blue line slid across the screen until it delivered.

You

Guess I’m not the only one having a hard time with friends.

Almost instantly, three dots popped up encased in a grey bubble, signifying he was already typing a response for you.

Jake ❤️

We’re in this together, just like always.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach, sickened by the idea of you both suffering over the same thing when the solution was right in front of you. Together always, no matter if it was mutual happiness or to share sorrows.

Jake ❤️

What are you doing up so late, sunshine?

You

Damn job applications. Still no calls :(

Jake ❤️

They’re crazy for not calling you back. I know you’d be the best teacher at ANY school.

You

You think too highly of me 😅

Jake ❤️

Think you don’t give yourself enough credit.

You

What are YOU doing up so late? Sending such risqué texts at that.

Jake ❤️

At mom and dad’s house… had too much wine. Just waiting for Sam to shut up so he can drive us back to the hotel.

You

So I have a drunkard on my hands.

Jake ❤️

I wish I was in your hands, but we’re friends now so I guess that’s off the table.

Your cheeks turned red, your stomach twisting with knots at the simple thought of touching him again. Of course you’d rather be there, drinking wine and retelling childhood stories while sat on the couch, maybe even with his hand on your knee as you leaned into his side. You wanted it all, but only ever with him, and it was torture to pretend you didn’t. He made it so hard to keep your morals in check, and the longer you talked to him the less you seemed to care about the reasons why you left. Maybe you ignoring him had little to do with your own sadness and everything to do with his ability to change your mind about things.

You wanted him—you needed him. To feel his arms around you, to hear the sweet melodies of his voice, to feel the love radiating from him straight into you. You were sick of the self-inflicted punishments, tired of holding back. You missed him, and you couldn’t bear to feel it any longer, especially when he was so close to you.

Jake ❤️

Sorry, sunshine. I’m trying my best.

You

Don’t apologize.

With that, you gave in to the temptation and closed your laptop. You carefully placed Ozz on the bed, so gently that he didn’t even stir from his sleep. As you clicked on his contact and dialled his number, you snuck out of your bedroom and let the door fall shut behind you. The dial tone didn’t even have a chance to ring once before he picked up, his raspy tone filling your ears and easing the ache in your chest that had been bothering you for days.

“Do friends call each other at one in the morning?” He teased, the slight slur in his tone telling you he certainly did indulge in too much wine.

“You want me to hang up?” You shot back, bluffing of course, but warning him nonetheless.

“Not at all.” He responded without missing a beat. “Job hunt too boring? Needed some excitement?”

“Something like that.” You hummed, pacing the hallway outside of your bedroom. You had no idea why you were so nervous, especially considering you’d been in this position a million times before. For some reason, it felt different now, more real and much more terrifying. You let out a sigh, deciding to rip off the bandaid and get straight to the point. “You still have that pack of Newports?”

“Just smoked one.” He confirmed. “Why?”

“I have a bottle of strawberry wine. The cheap stuff, like I used to drink when we were kids.” You swallowed hard, wondering if he understood your intent. He was silent, the static crackling over the line the only inkling he was still there. After a moment, he cleared his throat, and you could only imagine his tongue swiping over his bottom lip as he tried to swallow back his nerves.

“Does that mean what I think it does?”

“Let Sam talk, Jake.” You confirmed. “I’ll take you home later.”

“Are you sure, sunshine? This isn’t very friend-like… ‘least it wasn’t way back then.”

“Shove it with the friend thing. It was a really stupid thing to say. I need you Jake, no matter what fucking label we put on it.” You rushed out, knowing you were only breaking your own rules because you were overtired and sad. Still, the only place you wanted to be was in his arms, and nothing would take that feeling away. “Are you in or out?”

“In. Always.” He assured you.

“I’ll meet you halfway.” You couldn’t measure the amount of relief you felt.

“See you in ten.” He promised. Without another word, he ended the call, leaving you staring at your lock screen with uncertainty bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

Instead of dwelling, you snuck back in your room to grab a hoodie. You slipped it over your head as you walked downstairs, grabbing your keys from the kitchen table as you slipped on your shoes. You locked the door behind you, carefully trodding down the porch steps and into the night. The air was cool, the grasshoppers and crickets working together to make an ambient atmosphere in your front yard. You cut through the lawn, feeling the dew of the grass stick to your ankles as you checked for headlights on the road.

You started at a slow pace down your street, your heart racing as the moonlight illuminated the way. Street lamps were few and far between, casting yellow hues over the horizon as you approached your first turn. Keeping on the sidewalk, you marched down the side street and noticed that nobody was waiting for you at the end. Your stomach sank, wondering if maybe he had enough of your ridiculous mood swings and decided not to come at all. You tried not to get in your own head too much as you neared the four way intersection, hearing nothing but distant cars on the highway.

You tapped your foot against the pavement as you stood in the middle, never letting your eyes leave the road that led to his house. After a few more minutes of nothing, your disappointment was growing stronger by the second. You tried to tell yourself that Jake would never leave you hanging, not with your hopes up and your heart splayed on your sleeve. At the same time, you knew if he did, you would be nothing other than deserving of it. You took his love and his kindness for granted, hurting him more than you cared to admit even if it was for his own sake, and if he thought it was justifiable to leave you looking like an idiot, you would have to agree.

Then, your whirlwind of thoughts came to a halt. A shadow appeared under a streetlight, giving you a glimpse of hope back. Seconds later, you could see the outline of a body in the near distance. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his jeans, his long hair hanging down over his shoulders, and the cutoff t-shirt he was wearing hung loosely from his torso.

It was Jake.

Your Jake—the very same as he was six years ago when he used to meet you in that exact spot.

Knowing that made you feel at ease, calm despite the constant storm of emotions trying to ruin your life. It felt right, walking to meet him under the moonlight, seeing his silhouette under the street lamps. Things were so different, but eerily similar to those memories you cherished most. Without hesitation, you started to walk towards him, your feet carrying you forward despite your brain telling you not to. Your pace sped the closer you got to him, and before you knew it, you were running towards him in hopes he would greet you with the same enthusiasm.

“Sunshine!” Jake laughed, tumbling backwards as you collided into him and engulfed him in a hug. His arms wrapped around you as your head settled on his chest, and as if it were a natural response, he lifted you off your feet and spun you around.

You wondered, after so much heartbreak, how could things still feel so perfect?

“What’s gotten into you?” He asked, carefully placing you back on the ground and pulling away. His warm eyes scanned your face, noticing the shine of tears still lingering and your red nose. “Hey,” his lips dipped into a frown, only making the ache in your chest worsen.

“I’m just… I’m sorry. About everything. The last four days have been awful, and I just… I didn’t want to leave it like that, I guess. You deserve more.”

“Nothing a little rooftop conversation can’t fix, right? Always seemed to work before.” At that, a small smile turned your lips. You sniffled back any remaining sadness, giving him a curt nod to show him you agreed wholeheartedly.

The walk back to your house was relatively peaceful, and he had tested his luck and intertwined his fingers with your own for the short distance. You didn’t have the heart or the desire to turn him away, so you allowed yourself to enjoy the moment while you still could. Inside, you grabbed a few blankets and the last bottle of wine stored in the refrigerator. Then, like it was only yesterday, the two of you trekked into the spare bedroom and you watched as he popped out the screen on the window. Carefully, he climbed out first, grabbing the items from your hands so you could do the same.

When your feet were firmly planted on the rickety tin of the roof, he laid the blanket down and motioned for you to take a seat. Once you did, he sat behind you, his legs settling on either side of your own as he wrapped his arms around your torso. You leaned into the touch, resting your back against his chest as you looked up at the stars twinkling in the sky. For a single moment, you were seventeen again—the smell of Newports stuck to his clothes and the warmth of his body made you believe that no worldly trouble could touch you. You were seventeen, happy and carefree, long before heartbreak ever touched you and the end was even in sight.

But, no good thing could last forever, and the two of you were far too good to last for more than a small glimpse of time.

“Talk to me, sunshine.” He broke the silence, his voice quiet as he watched the same stars you’d focused your attention on.

“Been a long time since we came up here together.” You whispered, tracing small hearts into the back of his hand with your index finger. “I never came up here again after we… I couldn’t. Didn’t feel right.” He didn’t respond to your confessions. Instead, you felt his chin rest on the very top of your head, the pressure light and the position only so he could try and be closer to you. “Why’d you send me that song?”

“You know why.” You did, but you wanted to hear from him. “It’s you, Sunshine. It always has been, and it always will be. Every time I step foot in that house, you’re the only thing I can see. In my bed, laying on the couch in the basement, on a blanket in the backyard, bothering Sam in the doorway of his bedroom. It’s you. Even if you call us friends, that will never change.”

You reached for the bottle of wine, cracking the cap and taking a small sip. You decided it would be needed for such a heavy conversation, and you could keep him here for long enough to sober up and drive him home. As the liquid travelled down your throat, you were plagued with the thought that the sweetness couldn’t even compare to the kind in which came from his words. Even so, you continued to swallow it down in hopes it would wash away the taste of those from your tongue.

“Are you mad?” You asked, looking down at the point your hand met with his. His silence struck you harder than you thought it would, but you couldn’t blame him if he was.

“Not mad.” He replied, taking his time to collect his thoughts on the matter. “Frustrated, but not mad. Think I was at first, but Josh and Sam put things into perspective for me.”

“Mel helped me with that, too.” You hummed, taking another swig from the chilled bottle.

“Why do you think this is the only way?” He blurted the question out, the liquor getting the best of him and furthering his curiosity. He needed answers, but he was unsure if the ones you provided would help. Before you responded, you offered the bottle to him in hopes it would make it easier for him too.

“Because I don’t want to hurt you.” Your voice was so quiet that he could barely hear it over the ambient noise of the night. “Feel like that’s all I ever do, anyway.” He wanted to argue, to tell you how wrong it was and list every good thing you had ever brought to his life, but he didn’t. Instead, he settled on one simple statement he prayed would get his point across clearly.

“If all you did was hurt me, do you really think I’d still be here?” You swallowed the fact with struggle, feeling the truth get stuck in your throat as it began to choke you. Your eyes watered and your lungs burned because for a moment, you forgot how to breathe, and you hated yourself for pushing a narrative on him and forcing him to take it. “You are so much more than you give yourself credit for.”

Silence became the two of you again, neither one of you willing to rock the boat any further as you digested the answers to your questions. You listened to the dull thud of his heart against his chest, feeling it on your skull if you focused for long enough. You wondered, if he was a separate being and the two of you were your own entities, why did it feel like your heart existed alongside his own, beating in the same rhythm to make the same song, against the flesh and bone that made him? Your own chest felt empty, hollow and barren. It ached with a fervor and the nothingness seemed to taunt you when he wasn’t near. Now, in his arms, you could feel the beat of your own heart after days of missing it.

“Talk to me.” He repeated his earlier statement, his free hand reaching up to brush the locks of hair from your face. His fingers ran through the knotted strands, eventually reaching the end where he twisted them around his index finger. The small action was so akin to his love, the gentleness and the care that went into it telling of all he felt for you. “You called first. You asked me to come over. Something’s bothering you.”

He was right, but it was not some trivial thing or instance that plagued your thoughts. It was everything; the entire world as a whole, your life being so different than the one you envisioned. How could you explain what your troubles were when trouble was the only thing you knew?

Well, that, and love by his hand.

When considering the latter, the world didn’t seem so bleak after all.

“I don’t know what I’m doing or where I’m going.” You stated, blunt enough to make you regret it. You wished talking about your feelings was easier, that communication could come naturally rather than all or nothing.

“So you’ve said.” He let out a low chuckle, the warm skin of his hand drifting across your cool cheek reminding you that you were alive and awake, rather than stuck in a twisted dream.

“I dunno… guess that I always had this plan. Since I was little, even before my dad left, I knew where this life would take me and how I wanted it to go, how I would handle it. The older I get, the more I realize I never had it figured out, and it’s really bothering me. Way more than I thought it would.”

“Oh, sunshine.” Jake hummed, soft and sweet as the pad of his thumb drifted across your skin. You could hear the smile in his voice, but you weren’t sure why. Either way, it felt good to know it was there, even if your misery clouded every other aspect of your life. “None of us ever had it figured out, even if we thought so. Nobody does, even now. That’s the beauty of life, is it not?”

“God, you sound like Josh.” You scoffed, the corners of your lips turned upwards into a smirk. “When did that happen?”

“Yeah, maybe that was a bit much.” He agreed, his shoulders shaking with a laugh. “Spend a lot of time with him on the road. Kinda hard not to pick up some habits from him.”

“Where’s Jake? I want his answer, not the philosophical shit you pulled from one of Josh’s guides to enlightenment.” You teased, craning your head backwards to catch a glimpse of his face. As you did, you almost wished you didn’t, finding it incredibly hard to tear your eyes away from him.

“Jake’s right here, sunshine. If I answer, will you listen?” He raised an eyebrow, teasing you just the same. He had a point; you were quite pigheaded when it came to anyone else’s opinion, even if you tried your best not to be.

“I will, I promise.” You withheld the fact that all you wanted to do was listen to him, that if he stayed, you would promise to listen until your very last dying breath.

“Okay,” he let out a long breath. “I’m drunk, so bear with me.” At that, a giggle fell from your lips, bits of joy stuck in your teeth despite worrying you’d never feel it again. “Out of everyone I know, you’ve always had it together. You knew where you were going, what you were doing, and most of the time, you knew what everyone else was doing, too. Or what they should have been doing, at least.” A smile struck your lips, full but still sad because he was right. Planning and preparing were the two very things that kept you going, even if it made you overlook emotions and fun. “You still have it together, Y/N, even if things aren’t going exactly the way you wanted.”

“I just… I feel like after all this work, all of this time, I should be somewhere, be something.” You let out an exasperated sigh, your head falling back against his chest with a thud. “Instead, I’m almost twenty-five, still living in my moms house with no job and relying on my high school boyfriend to help pick me up off the ground.”

“Hey,” his interruption was curt, gruff almost as he voiced his distaste for your statement. “You’re not relying on me. I’m not forced to be here because you couldn’t do it alone. I want to be here. I offered to be here. I jumped at the chance, actually.” He said, his lips hovering over your ear as he leaned in further. He smelled like cheap cigarettes and red wine, the two fighting a losing battle against his expensive cologne. It was hard to resist the temptation, to hold yourself back from kissing him and confusing the two of you even further. “Besides, I’m not picking you up off the ground, ‘cause you were never down there in the first place.” The vibrations of his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and the warmth of his breath made your stomach flutter. “Also, I’d like to think I’m a little more than just your old high school boyfriend.”

“You are.” The words slipped out with little thought, forcing you to explain your thoughts further. “You’re everything, bug. It’s always been you, too.” You took another sip of wine, swallowing back the heaviness of your statement. Even if the time was wrong, even if you weren’t meant to be, you would always be his. In this lifetime, his presence would always be the only thing you ever craved.

“You’ll get a job, sunshine. I bet you ten bucks you’ll get a call tomorrow.” At that, you let out a dry, sarcastic laugh. It had been months since you finished school, and months since you’d been waiting for an offer. For him to think the tables would suddenly turn was naïve, even if it was comforting. You knew that if everyone else in the world stopped believing in you, even if they thought your amount to nothing, he would continue to cheer you on.

Perhaps he was betting on a job offer for his own personal agenda. If you had certainty again, if you knew where you were going, you wouldn’t be so afraid to let him in.

“You’re funny, Jake.” You dismissed him, saddened as you continued to watch the sky.

“I’ll be expecting ten dollars, then.” He squeezed you a little tighter, the action pulling you further into him. You wanted to tell him that you never wanted him to let go, but you bit your tongue as you realized how selfish it was. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” You assured him.

“Is that why you left? The first time, and this time?” You froze, his question blunt and an answer just out of reach. You wondered what tipped him off, what forced him to ask such a question? You weren’t sure what exactly he was referring to, so before responding you thought it best to ask.

“What… what do you mean?”

“You’re a planner. You always knew how your life would go… and you never expected me. I turned it upside down the first time, and then you left and got yourself back on track… you learned how to be alone and you figured your shit out, just for me to show up and throw things out of whack again.” He seemed to be struggling to explain, but you were following him. “You like control, and you like certainty, and when you love someone this much, it kinda feels like everything is out of control. You don’t know if I’ll leave, or if we’ll run into trouble that causes more bad than good, and you don’t know what I’m thinking or where I’m going to end up. You being with me… kinda makes you accept a whole shitload of uncertainty, and you love certainty.”

“Jake, even if I went back in time and knew that I would end up with you, that we would end up like this, it still never would have prepared me for it.” You breathed, trying to wrap your head around the complexity and intensity of the emotions you felt for him. “I don’t think any kind of logic or sense could explain this. The way I feel for you… it’s so overwhelming, so unlike anything I’ve ever felt. When people used to talk about love, I never ever thought it would feel like this.” You swore you could feel his heart beat faster as you continued to speak, but you did your best to ignore it so you could keep your composure. “It scares me a little, and maybe it’s part of the reason why I left, but it’s so much more than that. The uncertainty was worth it, because I never felt like you would do anything to make me regret it. Even now, you still haven’t.”

“So what is it? Explain it to me, because we were all over the place that morning, and I just need to understand it.”

“I left because I love you.” You replied, toying with a loose thread on the blanket below you. “Because all I’ve ever wanted was to see you succeed, to live a life you always dreamed about, and I’m terrified of standing in the way of it. I saw the notifications on your phone, and it scared the shit out of me. I thought you were going to put your whole life on pause to figure us out, and I couldn’t handle it. You worked so hard for this, just like you did way back then, and I can’t ruin it for you. I’m so fucked up right now… drinking wine on the roof because I’m twenty-five and directionless. I can’t force you to plan your life around me when it’s so crazy right now. I don’t know where I’ll end up, and I guess I’m afraid if we do try again, you’ll regret it. I can handle a lot, but I couldn’t handle knowing you resented me.”

“That would never happen.” He said, his heart aching at the simple thought of you believing he could house such feelings towards you.

“But you don’t know that.” You argued. “When we were eighteen, we ended this on good terms to avoid that feeling. When you came back and I saw you, I was so excited and happy that I forgot about everything else… I ignored any consequences. I’m no better off now than I was then, and to tie you down when you’ve spent the last few years with so much freedom… I can’t, Jake.”

As you said it aloud, Mel’s voice rang louder in the back of your head, telling you that you couldn’t make that decision for him. At the same time, what else could you do? Could you risk the very thing you were determined to avoid? Could you chance all of his love for you being replaced with a bitter, cold emotion that would haunt you for the rest of your life?

“If you’re worried about me, you don’t have to be.” He hummed, fighting every urge to argue. It was easy for him to respond with counterattacks and emotion, because the whole situation frustrated him beyond belief, but you loved logic, and he was trying his hardest to speak from his brain rather than his heart. “My career is important to me. It’s been a long and difficult journey to get where we are, and I’m thankful for it every day. I wouldn’t just give it up, Y/N. My brothers, my fans… I have people counting on me. At the same time, work can only get you so far. When I’m old and tired, the stage isn’t going to be sitting beside me on a porch somewhere. My guitar will be in the living room, collecting dust because my hands hurt too much to play it. There’s a point where all of that is going to be a memory—a damn good one, but a memory.”

You weren’t sure why it hurt so bad, but the thought of him not playing his guitar had struck an agonizing chord in your heart.

“Before I met you, I never thought I could love something else the same way I love music. Then, you showed up, and everything changed. Were not kids, and I’d like to think we’re a lot less stupid. We can have two things at once. I can handle that, even if I didn’t think I could back then. I want you beside me on that porch, bitchin’ at me ‘cause all the guitar does is collect dust. You wouldn’t stand in the way of anything, ‘cause since that day I promised you I’d love you forever, I knew what I was signing myself up for. I will love you forever, and that dream always included you, sunshine. It was never just me up on that stage; it was also you, cheering me on and giving me the encouragement to keep going.”

Your cheeks were damp again, the tears free flowing and your misery loud enough for the whole world to hear. How was he so perfect, in everything he did and every word he said? How was it fair that two people could love each other so much but have so many things stand in the way?

“Loving you is the only thing I know how to do.” You confessed, raising your palms to your cheeks to swipe away the tears. “I promised too, and I meant it. I swear I could never love anyone else like this.”

“No need to cry, beautiful.” He hugged you tighter, encasing you in a blanket of protection that not even the strongest force could break through. “I let you leave the first time because I was scared. I’m letting you go this time because I want you to be ready, too. I’ve been waiting six years, Y/N. If it takes six more for you to get there, I’ll still be waiting. You are worth every bad thing and every day spent alone. Nobody else could ever be what you are to me.”

“God, shut up.” You laughed despite the sadness, a smile contradicting your tears. “Stop making me fall for you all over again.”

“Too bad,” he laughed, watching as you twisted yourself around so you could look at him. “I promised to love you, so get used to it sunshine.” The warmth of his eyes made you feel like everything was going to be okay, even if everything else in the universe was trying to convince you otherwise. When he was out of sight, it felt like the world was ending, but as soon as your eyes landed on him, you felt stupid for ever worrying at all. “Can you promise me something?”

“You sure you want me to? Our promises seem more like curses.” You tried to joke despite the truth being horribly painful.

“Never a curse, sweetheart, even if it does hurt sometimes.” He assured you, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “Promise me that when you’re ready, you’ll let me know.” Your lips turned down into a frown, saddened at the idea of him waiting patiently for you to get your shit together.

“The second I do, you’ll be the first to know.”

“And if there’s ever a time you know for sure I’m not what you want, I need to know that, too.” You almost laughed at the incredulous statement, knowing that in this lifetime, not wanting Jake wasn’t a possibility. But, for his sanity, you gave a small nod, assuring him that you would tell him if it did happen to come true. “Thank you for calling me tonight.”

“Thank you for coming. I know I don’t deserve anything from you, but you were the only person I wanted to talk to.” You spun around, now facing him and carefully laying your legs over his thighs. He smiled down at you, his hands resting on your hips as he pulled you closer to him.

“You deserve everything, sunshine.” He whispered, his eyes twinkling under the pale moonlight. You swore, for a single second, you could see the entire universe in the near black of his irises. “Anytime you want me here, I’ll be here. I’ve always been a call away, even if it didn’t seem like it.”

“You were right.” Your stomach was twisted in a knot, the faint hint of alcohol on his breath making your head spin. Your face being so close to his was making it hard to think of anything else, his presence intoxicating as an invisible force pushed you further into his arms.

“About?” He raised his eyebrow, seemingly caught in the same flurry of emotions as you. The tip of his nose was nearly brushing yours, his eyelids heavy as his fingers tightened their hold on you.

“This isn’t very friend-like.” You whispered, inching your lips closer to his.

“I did tell you that it would be hard to be friends.” He reminded you, one of his hands slowly removing itself from your hip to cup your face.

“Yeah, because I don’t want to be friends.” You nearly scoffed the words, disgusted at the thought of it. If it were easier, if the world wasn’t so complicated and cruel, you never would have forced the title on the two of you.

“Me neither.” He agreed. “So let’s not be friends.”

“What else could we be?” You giggled, finding his statement silly considering the predicament you found yourselves in.

“Two people in love, that can’t fully be together yet.” He replied. “Feel like it fits us a little better.”

“That’s a complicated title.” You teased, his lips so close to yours you could almost taste him on your tongue.

“It’s nobody’s business but ours.” He smiled, the softness of his features in the dim light of the night reminding you of a younger version of him. The two of you, in perfect unison, happiness on your faces but lingering sadness in your hearts reminded you of a simpler time, one with a much less complex relationship, when you could be together with no worries.

“Okay, sounds good to me.” In that moment, you would have agreed to anything he said, solely because you couldn’t imagine causing him any more trouble.

“Is there rules for this?” He asked, clearly running on the same train of thought as you were.

“Not tonight, ‘cause we’re just trying to figure it out, right?”

“Right.” He nodded gently, searching your face for any sigh of discomfort. When he could find none, he finally leaned forward and closed the gap between you.

The taste of him was sweet on your lips, fulfilling and so unlike anything else. The simple action left your head spinning and your chest aching, and you wondered if something felt this good, why it could not last forever. His hand held you to him, unwilling to let you slip away before he could fully enjoy the moment. It didn’t take long for him to test his luck, his tongue grazing your lower lip as he silently begged you for more. He barely had to ask—you were bending to his will and parting your lips in an instant, your hands tangling in his hair as your chest pressed against his own.

There were no fireworks, no butterflies or anything like what the movies would describe. Instead, it felt right, like the two of you were meant to be together on the rooftop of your childhood home one last time. When he pulled away, you were breathless, more stars dancing in your eyes than in the sky behind you, and the stupid smile on your lips made you regret every decision you had made in the previous four days.

“Whatever you do sunshine, whatever we are… please don’t disappear again. I sent you that song earlier because it’s true. It’s dark when you’re gone—the sun doesn’t shine and the birds don’t sing, and I can’t handle not having you in my life. As friends, as lovers, as enemies, I don’t care, as long as we’re something.” The pleading tone nearly turned you to dust, the remorse and regret for hurting him so badly seeming to eat you alive as you sat in his arms.

“I won’t disappear.” You promised, closing your eyes so he could not see the tears welling up once again. “I’m perfectly fine with being in love, but not fully together… yet.”

“Good, because I like that a hell of a lot more than I like friends.” He let out a sigh of relief, his eyes flickering to the sky to lessen the intensity of your staring contest. Then, out of nowhere, his eyes lit up and a smile broke out on his face. “Look, sunshine!” He exclaimed, causing you to jump. You whipped your head around, your eyes following the direction of his in just enough time to catch the tail end of—“a shooting star.”

“Make a wish, quick!” You matched his energy, remembering how many stars you wished upon when you were young and in love. For a long time, you cursed the stars and universe because none of the hopeful desires ever seemed to come true—especially the ones you wished upon without him there beside you. Now, sitting on the rooftop with him, held so tightly in his arms, your faith had suddenly been restored. You had gotten everything you ever wished for in the single moment you were sharing with him now.

The both of you closed your eyes, the wispy bright tail of the shooting star still fresh in your minds as you settled on the things you wanted most from this life.

He wished for you.

You wished for him.

Funny how after so many years, your greatest desires hadn’t changed one bit.

☾𖤓

You threw your keys down on the kitchen table, exhausted and sad as you returned home alone. For a few hours, the two of you sat on the roof talking about everything and anything that came to mind, and only when the peek of the sun in the sky began to show did you decide it was best you take him home. You held back your tears the entire drive, not daring to ask the dreaded question of when he would be flying back to Nashville. Instead, you passed the time with laughter and a few more stolen kisses, only making the departure harder when the automatic hotel doors closed behind him.

It was hard watching him walk away when you wanted to do nothing more than walk beside him.

A slow and tear filled drive home left you questioning all of your life choices, and the sun shining bright in the sky did nothing other than taunt you as you made your unusual walk of shame to your own front door. You felt like you had no tears left to cry, but somehow a few still slipped down your cheeks as you collapsed on the couch, too tired to make the trek upstairs. The chill of the night was still settled deep in your bones, and as you threw a tiny blanket over your legs and laid your head on a throw pillow, you could only remember how warm and safe it was to be in his arms.

You clicked on the television for some background noise, playing whatever channel your mother had left on before she went to bed as you begged for sleep to take you. You closed your eyes, the ghost of a migraine throbbing behind your forehead as you noticed the smell of Jake’s cologne stuck to the fibres of your sweater, which was comforting just as much as it was sickening. You reached above your head, your fingertips grazing the material of the curtains as you tried to slide it across the window to block the rays of sun. Eventually, you managed to pull it halfway across, which was good enough for you.

Just as you felt yourself begin to drift off, you heard the familiar chime of your text tone, forcing your eyes open once again. With a huff of annoyance, you reached into your pocket and pulled it out, just in time to feel the vibration of the second text that followed. You held the screen just a few inches from your face, squinting so you could focus your eyes on the words.

Jake ❤️

Since we’re no longer friends, I…

The preview only read so far, frustrating you further as you struggled to activate your Face ID in the dimly lit room. Eventually, you gave up and put in your passcode, wondering what was so important that he had to text you after your long night spent together. Even if it was important, you were sure it could have waited until the morning.

Or, afternoon, more likely.

Jake ❤️

Since we’re no longer friends, I thought it would be acceptable to tell you how fucking bad I wish you were here to keep me company.

Your stomach twisted with a sudden burst of emotion at his words, worsened further by the photograph he attatched below the already blunt message. Suddenly, you were wide awake and sleep was no longer a passing thought. Freshly showered with a towel hung low on his hips, Jake’s face was hidden behind the phone taking said picture in the foggy bathroom mirror. His hair, not even bothered to be towel dried, was dripping water down his tanned chest, and in the small frame of his face that you could see, a smirk was on the corner of his lips.

Beneath the towel, though, was what caught your attention more than anything else. His dick, half hard and pressing against the fabric, sent you down a steep spiral that nearly made you jump from the couch and drive back to his hotel. You swallowed hard, squeezing your eyes shut as you let your head push further into the pillow below you.

Maybe, in love and not fully together would be far harder than just sticking damn friends.

☾𖤓

You woke with a start, your head pounding and your heart racing as your phone rang loudly on your chest. You blinked hard, trying to adjust to the bright light pooling in through the large windows behind you. With a long intake of breath, you pushed yourself upwards, grabbing your phone in one hand and rubbing your face with the other. You peeked at the screen, recoiling at the brightness as you tried your best to adjust. Once you did, you felt your stomach drop and your chest tighten.

Private number.

Could it really be?

You cleared your throat, straightening yourself out as you hit accept on the call. Putting on your friendliest and most professional persona, you placed the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Ms. Y/L/N?” On the other side of the phone was a man, curt but seemingly friendly enough.

“Yes, speaking.” You replied, trying to ignore the pull of your heartstrings. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, terrified of getting excited only to be let down.

“So nice to finally be in touch with you again!” He greeted again, chipper and cheery as he realized he was speaking with the right person. “I’m not sure if you remember me—we had a brief meeting here when you dropped off your application. My name is Bruce Myers and I’m calling on behalf of the English Faculty at the University of Michigan.”

“Hi, Mr. Myers. Of course I remember, it’s a pleasure to be speaking with you again.” You responded, now awake and on high alert as you prepared for the best or the worst news of your life.

“Please, Bruce is fine.” He chuckled. “I have to say, I’ve been sitting in my office reading over your resume all morning. All week, actually.” He cleared his throat. You could hear a chair wheel squeaking in the background, then a rustle of papers as he shuffled them around at his desk. “Top of your class in high school, and at UPenn. 5 years experience as a TA, and an achievement and awards list I’m not sure I could compare to.” Your cheeks turned red at the compliment, a fizzle of excitement sparking in your chest. You did your best to extinguish it, remembering that nothing was set in stone and he could be talking you up in hopes of letting you down easy.

“Thank you, Bruce. It’s been a long road to get here, but as I hope you can see, education has always been a top priority for me. When I came back to Michigan, I couldn’t turn down the opportunity to apply at such a fantastic university.” You tried to hide the nervous shake in your tone, biting down on the tip of your tongue as you cringed at your own words. You hoped you weren’t coming on too strong, too desperate.

“I can speak on behalf of all of us when I say we’re incredibly lucky to have received your application.” He let out a small chuckle, taking in a breath as he got lost in thought for a moment. “As I’m sure you know, hiring qualified candidates has been a struggle for everyone as of late.”

“Yeah, that’s for sure.” You allowed yourself to let out a small laugh, keeping up small talk but eager for him to get to the point.

“I hope we didn’t take too long to reach out—if it were up to me, I would have hired you on the spot, but of course we had a few hoops to jump through first.” Your heart raced, your eyes sparkling as he continued to talk. “If you’re interested and still available, we’d like to extend the offer for you to join us here for the month of August. With no prior lecturing experience, it’s a little more difficult to give you the position immediately, but we’ve all come to the agreement it would be foolish of us to pass up the opportunity to bring in someone who’s so eager to learn.”

“And what exactly would that entail?” You swallowed hard, wanting to agree immediately but knowing it was best to take your time with it.

“Well, four weeks of training, which is as much for you as it is for us. You would be under a mentor, learning the basics and balance of such a fast paced program. It would give you an opportunity to learn the campus, learn about your colleagues at the same time, and it would also allow us to get to know you. It would be probationary, of course, but if at the end of the four week term we’re all on the same page, we could have you teaching an intro to literature course for the fall semester.”

Your mouth went dry, your palms clammy and your heart racing. You were too stunned to speak, so excited that you thought you might have to pinch yourself to pull yourself from a dream. You’d been waiting for a call for weeks, losing hope and more disappointment growing by the day. You barely expected a grade school to reach out, let alone a university.

Then, at the back of your mind, you heard it—loud and clear, and tantalizing.

“You’ll get a job, sunshine. I bet you ten bucks you’ll get a call tomorrow.”

He was right, and you struck him down as if he was speaking nonsense.

With Jake’s words of encouragement echoing in your mind, you pulled yourself out of your state of shock and nodded eagerly, even if the man on the other end of the phone could not see it.

“I would be delighted to join you, and even more so to prove that I’m the right person for the job.”

“Excellent.” He boomed, relived that you accepted the offer. “Why don’t you come down to campus on Friday. We can discuss some more details, really get into the specifics… expectations and salaries and such. Does that work for you?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “That’s perfect. Any time works.”

“Let’s say ten, and go from there?” He offered, clearly willing to work with you on the matter.

“Of course, ten is great. I’ll see you then.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it, Y/N. If you have any questions or concerns between now and then, please feel free to reach out to me. I’ve forwarded some information to the email you have on your resume, so you can respond there, or give me a call during business hours if that suits you better.” He explained, the rustling papers ceasing and the squeak of his chair no longer audible.

“Thank you for taking a chance on me, Bruce. I’ll be sure to reach out if I can think of anything.”

“Perfect, thank you. Goodbye for now, and we’ll talk on Friday.”

“See you Friday!” You let a little excitement slip, but he didn’t seem to notice or care as he ended the call. When the line disconnected, it left you staring at the Lock Screen of your phone with an unfamiliar feeling twisting your stomach.

You were nervous, but thrilled to have an opportunity like such. It was the biggest moment of your life, the most exciting change and the very thing you’d been waiting for. You were so filled with energy you could have run laps around the house, the few hours of sleep barely bothering you as you reran the conversation through your head a million times.

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed to yourself, quiet but still enough to express some of the joy you were feeling. Just as you did so, paws against the floor sounded and Ozz appeared in the doorway, happy to share your excitement and most definitely looking for someone to fill his food dish. He approached the couch, jumping up and landing on your legs as he began to purr. “I have a job, Ozz. I actually have a job!” You scratched behind his ear, knowing it was insane to share such sentiments with a cat, but unable to keep it locked up.

Then, the realization struck you; you had to tell people, share the great news and celebrate accordingly.

The only issue was, the first person that came to mind was not your best friend who lived the struggle with you, still sleeping upstairs and awaiting good news. It wasn’t your mother, there by your side every minute of every day of your life, cheering you on and holding your hand. It wasn’t your sister, and it wasn’t even your cat.

Jake was the only person in the whole world you wanted to share the news with.

Even if he should not be that person for you anymore, even if he didn’t care as much as the others would, you couldn’t bear to speak to anyone else but him. Telling someone else before him nearly sickened you, because after everything you had been through with him, he was the only person who deserved to know. He listened to you speak your dreams aloud from fifteen to now, studied with you, filled out university applications with you, and sent you off to school even when all you wanted to do was turn around, even if it hurt him so badly to do so. Even during the six years he was absent, there was a part of you that continued on solely because he was alive, existing at the same time as you somewhere in the world. His absence never had any effect on the support and love and encouragement he always gave to you.

So, you did exactly that; you clicked his contact, immediately drafting up a message and hitting send without thinking twice.

You

I have ten bucks here with your name on it, bug. I never could have done any of this without you. I love you more than you could ever know ❤️

You didn’t care if he responded, nor if he ever read it. It felt right to express the truth, freeing to be completely transparent with him. He deserved to know how much he meant to you, how his impact on you lasted through years of life, survived through every struggle, and existed in your heart even when he was not right in front of you. He was responsible for every good thing, every accomplishment and triumph you ever experienced, because his love made you into the person who stared back at you in the mirror. Loving Jake was never an option because without him, you wouldn’t be you.

Maybe, despite all of the doubt and uncertainty, the confusion and the hurt, the sun was shining again, for both of you. The world no longer had to be bleak, scary and lonely, because you finally knew where you were headed. Your feet, firmly planted on the ground for the first time in your entire life, no longer wanted to stay put in one place. Instead, they were begging to run towards the only thing in the world that ever felt like home, to run to him.

And maybe, just maybe, your wish upon a star was worth it this time, and the two of you could finally overcome the struggle and be together once again.

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