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roosterforme · 10 months ago

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Beer Boy and Sugar: The First Lost Year (Bradley Bradshaw x Reader)

Part of the Lost Years series for Beer Boy and Sugar

Warnings: language, longing, angst (series fits chronologically between Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time)

Banner by @mak-32

Year One

"Bradshaw."

Bradley was pulled out of his comfortable daydream when he heard Natasha Trace call his name. He looked over at the only friend he'd managed to make since he moved to Rhode Island for flight training five months ago. It turns out, nobody much wants to talk to you when you're a bit of a miserable prick.

"Yeah?"

She nodded back toward the hangar and said, "Captain Price wants us to use the simulator."

"Right," he replied softly. Once she was gone again, he turned to look out at the rough Atlantic Ocean and shivered in the late October air. He was freezing cold. He was always fucking freezing cold here. He missed Virginia. He missed being warm in his bed in his fraternity house. He missed you.

"No," he whispered, closing his eyes and focusing on some deep breathing. "No. You can't." Every thought of you was painful, and he needed to get past this. He kept promising himself that one day, he would wake up and be on the other side of this ache, but he was such a damn liar. Deep inside, he knew better.

How was it supposed to stop hurting when all he could think about was you, equally cold in Chicago, wrapped up in his Grateful Dead shirt and listening to their songs? It had already snowed there; he checked the weather frequently. He memorized the University of Chicago campus map and thought about where you might be, always afraid you were in a library study room. With someone else. Because the only thing worse than thinking about you cold and alone was thinking about you moving on with someone new. But you were perfect. Bradley's perfect Sugar. Of course you didn't need to be with him to be happy.

Eventually he turned toward the hangar and walked through the frigid wind. He completed the simulation perfectly in almost no time. Trace was every bit as good as he was, and Bradley silently rejoiced whenever they were paired together. She was serious but not too serious. She was smart but never cocky about it. She didn't waste a lot of time talking if she had nothing to say. She reminded him a lot of you.

He wasn't interested in her as anything more than the friend he desperately needed right now, but it was hard to open up to someone new when he could only think about one thing. There were a handful of really attractive women here, but Bradley found himself unable to focus on them. Besides, he finally understood that quality always beats quantity. You started teaching him that lesson as soon as he felt the urge to paint his bedroom door white.

He avoided the tables full of students in the cafeteria, picking one off to the side instead. He figured if he gave the appearance that he didn't want anyone around, then they would leave him alone. He was only mostly successful.

"Can I join you?"

When he looked up at Trace's dark brown eyes, he nodded and pulled his tray a little closer to him so she could sit on the other side of the table. "Yeah, sure."

She ate half of her food before she said anything. "Hey, thanks for not being creepy."

He looked at her calm face in confusion. "What do you mean?"

She shrugged and said, "Some of the other guys are a little creepy towards me, Hayes, O'Malley and Butler. They think it's funny to mess with the girls."

"Seriously?" Bradley asked, setting his fork down. "Which guys?" He wished he didn't feel the sudden urge to break something; he'd been able to manage this feeling for a long time, only letting it surface when he wanted to pound Jeff to bits for touching you. It would probably feel good right now if he let this emotion take over for a little bit.

"Don't worry about it," Trace replied easily. "It's nothing I can't handle. I just don't like eating alone if I can help it, because then they come over."

Bradley nodded, picking up his fork again. If there was anything you wouldn't like, it would be Bradley losing his place in the Navy because he couldn't manage to stay out of a fistfight. "You can eat with me whenever you want."

Her muttered, "Thanks," was so soft, he barely heard it. He wanted to tell her not to thank him, but the silence between them felt pretty nice. She took a few more bites before she asked, "So what's your deal, Bradshaw? You're awfully quiet for someone who can pass all of the exams on the first try and makes the simulators look easy."

He laughed. "I could say the same about you."

"I guess," she replied, "but I'm always the one initiating conversation with you, not the other way around. It's a girl, isn't it? You miss your girlfriend?"

She didn't ask it unkindly, but it felt like a slap to his face. He swallowed hard, once again wondering why this hurt so fucking bad after five goddamn months. But he'd never tried to actually talk about you with anyone else. Maybe it wouldn't be as hard as he thought it would.

He cleared his throat and looked down at his tray. "There used to be a girl. I think maybe she thought she was doing me a favor when she dumped me. Or maybe she was just trying to protect herself. And I can respect that."

"Ouch," came Natasha's soft voice, and Bradley had almost forgotten he wasn't alone. "You were in love with her."

It wasn't phrased as a question, and once again Bradley felt like she physically hit him. He had never admitted it out loud before right now. "Yeah. I was in love with her." He set his fork down one last time before he met her eyes. "I'm still in love with her."

Later that night, he cried himself to sleep, dying to hear you call him Beer Boy and push your fingers through his hair one last time. Dying to ask you why he couldn't have two dreams.

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

You were twenty-two years old. You lived in one of the most exciting cities in the country. And you were single. But you never really felt like going out when the other graduate students invited you. Every time you did go, you ended up at a bar that was way too loud or a frat house that was way too uncomfortable. Nobody knew how to play beer pong correctly, and every guy was wearing a backwards cap.

It made your heart ache.

"Hey."

You looked up from your computer to see Jared staring at you with a smile on his face and his hat spun backwards on his head. "Alex and I are going to one of the library study rooms and then out to get a beer. You coming?"

Both of those things sounded amazing, actually. But not with him or Alex. Not with anybody at this school or in this city or even in the central time zone. You shook your head. "Thanks, but not tonight. Maybe next week?"

Jared looked dejected. "Aww, come on. You're too pretty to be sitting here working alone." He probably though he was being charming, but he was nowhere close to the level of sweetness you were used to.

You sighed softly and shook your head again. "Thanks but.... maybe next week."

When he finally left, you tried to return your attention to what you had been working on. There was no shortage of classwork or research to keep you busy seven days a week here, and that was a very good thing. Because it was days like this one where you started to think about Bradley and you couldn't stop. As soon as you let the memories creep in, you were done.

You closed your computer and sucked in a ragged breath. Through the blurry tears filling your eyes, you pulled up the bottom of your hoodie and ran your fingers along the soft, tie dyed cotton of the shirt you were wearing underneath. If you closed your eyes and thought about Virginia, you could almost believe the shirt still smelled like him. You could almost hear him sing what had become your favorite song.

"Shit," you muttered, standing and shoving your computer into your backpack. You would finish working from your dorm room. You just needed to get out of here right now.

The icy cold air smacked you in the face as soon as you walked outside. Apparently it started snowing in October here. It had been snowing steadily for days. You missed Virginia. You missed the stupid Beta house. You missed the way Bradley felt like your own personal furnace when he cuddled with you. Sometimes you thought you'd made the worst decision of your life.

The urge to cave and call him as soon as you got to your room and cranked up the heater was so intense. Then you remembered that you broke his heart and your own with a handful of sentences and the admission that you loved him. Well, you still loved him, but he almost certainly hated you. And that was fine. That was completely okay as long as he was focused on keeping himself safe instead of thinking about a long distance relationship. He had a dream bigger than you, and he deserved to live it out.

You curled up in a ball on your bed and listened to Easy to Love You by The Grateful Dead exactly eleven times in a row while you cried. You did the math in your head; that was just over forty minutes of crying. Last week when you broke down, it was closer to an hour. Maybe things were on the upswing now. Maybe the pain would start to fade. It had already been more than five months since you left his room while he sat on the edge of his bed, agony written on his face.

"Why?" you asked yourself angrily, certain nobody else would ever make you feel as good as he had for the handful of months you'd spent together. He taught you a lot about yourself, and now you understood the importance of giving someone a second chance. How crucial it was to look past the surface.

You buried your nose in the fabric of the colorful shirt, turned the song on one more time, and fell asleep with unshed tears and a tightness in your chest. When you woke up the next day, you found more snow on the ground when you put on your boots and jacket and headed outside. You remembered exactly where to go, because you'd seen it so many times before. You headed for the tattoo parlor near campus with a pocketful of cash and the hope that this would make you feel better and not worse.

Once you were lounging back with the Grateful Dead shirt pulled up, you pointed to your math tattoo. "I want it just below this one. It's a specific song lyric. And I want it in this font."

The tattoo artist looked at your skin and then the words you'd written out before checking the font you were pointing to in his binder which happened to look a bit like Bradley's tidy script.

"The Dead," he said with a smile. "I dig it. I can do it for a hundred bucks."

You nodded and handed him the cash, and just a few minutes later, he got to work. If he thought you were crying softly because of the pain from the needle digging into your flesh over and over again, then that was fine with you.

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

I'm fine. We are all fine. Year two is up next.

PART 2

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #rooster fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #beer boy and sugar strike again

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ohtobeleah · 1 year ago

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Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Two: [Chemo & Charisma]

Summary: Jake arrives in Rhode Island to accompany his three kids back to Houston Texas the next morning. He expects it to be slightly awkward, but something he doesn’t expect is to be cryptically seduced by you—his ex wife.

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Cancer Diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Separation. Marriage issues. Mentions of death. Minor smut (18+)

Word Count: 4.6k

Author Note: Thank you for all the love and support around this series so far. It truly has been an awesome experience getting to create this storyline with you all. I'm excited to see how you all react as the chapters come out. Your concepts, theories and reactions are truly making my December that much better.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Turbulence…it can mean anything from a few little bumps to a catastrophic weather system that could knock your flying tin can right out of the air. In Surgery they call it a complication, the surgeons hit a snag, a bump in the road. Turbulence.

In your marriage, you called it Separation. One of the most unpredictable things about encountering turbulence is its aftermath. Everything’s been shaken up, undone, turned on its head. So you ask yourself time and time again, if you had the choice to avoid the plane crash, the turbulence altogether, would you take it? Would you play it safe and cancel the flight? Or would you get onboard and take your chances.

“Dad!” Little Lucy Seresin was just the spitting image of you and your grandmother. She was every bit you except for those big emerald green eyes. “Dad—!” You could see Jake making his way towards you and your three children through the crowd, all standing around your legs waiting for their father. The one who gave all three of your children those piercing emerald eyes that held what seemed like all the secrets in the universe. “Mum! Dads here! Dads here!”

“I see him sweetheart, there’s daddy.” You replied to your six year old, who, before you even had a chance to stop the only daughter of Jake Seresin, took off running across the crowded airport welcoming area towards her dad. You knew it had been far too long since Jake had been able to see his children, but you also knew it wasn't entirely his fault. The Navy was unpredictable as it was reliable.

“Hiya Lulu!” Jake smiled as wild as he could as he dropped to his knee to embrace the six year old human he’d helped create. “Oh I missed you sweetheart.” That much was true, Jake Seresin missed his kids every day that passed him by. You watched on with six year old Lennox by your side and two year old Samuel on your hip as Jake picked his daughter up and carried her back over to where you stood patiently waiting. “Lenny, how you going man?” Jake beamed as he tousled his eldest son's hair. “Far out kid, you shoot up any more and you’ll be taller than your mother.” You smiled at the dig unintentionally, before you knew you were smiling Jake had seen the corners of your lips turn upright into an unmissable smile.

“Mums says I’m growing like an inch a day because I eat all my green beans at dinner.” Jake took a moment to place Lucy back on solid ground before he came up back up to meet your gaze. It had been a few weeks since you had called Jake about your Christmas plans. He still wasn’t sure how to feel about them, deep down he wanted to tell you not to go. Deep down he was screaming at the top of his lungs for you to give him another chance, to come with him and the kids to his mothers for Christmas. But Jake knew better than to make a scene in front of the kids. But that didn't mean he couldn't be petty when he wanted to be just to get a rise out of you.

“Is that so?” Jake beamed that signature Seresin grin you’d fallen for back in college when he was captain of the football team and you were just that meek library dweller. He made you feel so much more than just the shy history buff you’d been back then, Jake Seresin had taught you a lot of things about yourself in the time you’d been his best friend and wife, now ex. Nowadays however you often caught yourself wondering if he’d miss you if you didn’t make it through the battle you were facing. The battle you hadn’t told anyone about except your mum. The battle that took all your strength to keep a secret close to your chest. The battle that was draining you or all your strength and energy. The battle that late at night you wish you could just end early.

Stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma. Triple positive meaning that your specific cancer fed off oestrogen, progesterone and HER2 hormones. Lucky you right? Your first lumpectomy went rather well, but you were facing twelve weeks of chemotherapy treatment. Three oral tablets daily and two full days of IV sessions a week.

However, you were taking measures into your own hands as of tomorrow and were scheduled to be back in hospital for double mastectomy. You didn't want to wait and see if the cancer would spread and wanted every single bit out. But Jake was none the wiser about your medical status and assumed that you were off to Canada with friends for a white Christmas in Banff Alberta.

“Well—“ Jake carefully took little two year old Sammy from your grasp and placed his tied sleeping self on his own jean clad hip. “Mums are always right.” Jake quickly followed up as he looked down at Lenny. “There’s gonna be a ton of green beans at Grandma's house so you might overtake her quicker than anticipated buddy.” Jake gave the youngest of the three Seresin siblings a kiss on the cheek before he fully turned his attention to you. “Hey Hon—“ The way Jake stopped himself from finishing his sentence made your heart sink into the pit in your stomach. “Y/n, hey Y/n.” He corrected himself quickly as he picked up his duffel bag from the ground next to where he stood before you. “You look well.”

Oh if only Jake truly knew what you had to do in order to look well. The countless hours you spent throwing your guts up in the middle of the night. The sleepless nights that turned into days. The loss of appetite that had you dropping weight faster than you could blink. Your diagnosis had been quick but your symptoms had been even quicker to take over your daily life. You kicked yourself every day for not getting yourself to a doctor sooner.

“Yeah, I’ve been doing alright—“ Things used to be so easy with Jake, now he was standing here before you in the middle of the airport bustling with people going to and from for the holiday season and you swore he looked like someone you didn’t even know. “The kiddos keep me busy, don’t you?” You asked Lucy as she reached out for your hand and looked at you like you were telling lies.

“Mums been sick.” She told her father confidently, like you weren’t about to die then and there on the spot from embarrassment. Little Lucy had a bad habit of throwing you and Jake under the bus with one another. “She said it’s just a cold, but she’s been sick for like four whole weeks.” Lucy didn’t know any better than what you had always told her, that you had the flu. A long flu at that. As soon as you’d get the kids off to school you’d head right back to bed and sleep. The medication your doctors had you on was pretty brutal, and chemotherapy didn’t help although you’d only just started that kind of oral treatment. It packed a punch you couldn't handle.

“Oh?” Jake frowned as the five of you all made your way through the airport and out towards the car park. “Mum didn’t tell me she was sick, if I had known I would have come sooner.” Jake looked at you like he was trying to read the lines on your face. He could tell you were tied, more than normal—but despite that knowledge he’d never say it out loud. His grandmother would roll over in her damn grave if Jake ever dared to point out a woman’s under eye bags or her tired expression. So he went with ‘well’.

“That’s why I didn’t tell you.” You didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh, but you knew by the hurt look on Jake’s face that it had struck an exposed nerve. He never wanted to separate. “What I meant was, I’m fine, Lulu here sees a runny nose and thinks it’s the end of days, I would have called you if I needed help.”

“Fair, I mean—you can’t be that sick right? With your big trip to Banff planned and all.” Jake shrugged it off like his heart wasn’t breaking inside his chest. This was about to be his first Christmas separated from the women he loved more than life itself. Being in North Island made it easier to run from his problems, but the minute he got on that flight he was back inside his own head, rewinding and rethinking everything he ever did wrong to drive you away.

“Right—“ You agreed softly beside the man you loved so deeply that it burned. “Yeah, I’m just so thankful you were so happy to take the kids with you to your mothers house this year.” To be perfectly honest you were expecting Jake to push back, ask more questions, be a little standoffish on the idea of you not being there for the kids on Christmas. But he never did, and you didn’t know what hurt more.

“They’re my kids as much as they’re yours—kinda think it’s the least I can do considering you’ve had them all year round.” It was the tone you didn’t appreciate, the almost passive aggressive attitude that made you frown as you walked with Jake and your kids back to your car.

“You can see the kids anytime you like.” You tried to keep your head level, but the way Jake had said it made you question his motives. “I’d never stop you, if you wanna have them more often I’m sure we can—“

“Wasn’t that a big part of the reason you wanted to separate?” Jake interrupted before you had a chance to finish what you were saying. You were about to say perhaps you could come up with a custody agreement. Something on paper that seemed fair to the both of you that took your work schedules into consideration as well as your living conditions, the kids schooling, holidays and extended family. You were happy to discuss it more, but this year that had passed the both of you by had gone in the blink of an eye. “You were stuck with the kids too much? Seems a little counter intuitive considering you’ve become their primary caregiver.”

“Jake—“ You sighed with a longing he’d missed. “Not in front of the kids, alright?” You were trying your best, truly. But here he was in all his glory, the love of your life and father of your children, telling you that you made a mistake just in a different kind of font. “We can talk about it all when we get home.”

“I’m not doing anything in front of the kids—“ Jake shrugged as he watched you unlock the car. “I’m just trying to understand why you can’t just admit why you really left.” Jake knew why you left, because of him. He knew he hadn’t done enough in your marriage to show you how much he loved you. He just wanted to hear you say it. That you didn’t love him anymore. He wanted you to tell him point blank that you had fallen out of love with him.

But you could never say that, because you never stopped loving him.

“You know why—“ You had to bite the inside of your cheek and grit your teeth to stop yourself from yelling, Jake Seresin after all these years still managed to get under your skin with ease. “Again, not in front of the kids, let’s just get home.”

“You seem frustrated.” Jake teased with that award winning grin, he knew exactly what he was doing. You always took the bait.

“Yeah, you’ve been here for five minutes and I’m already over it.” If you had rolled your eyes any harder than you did you would have fallen over.

“Little harsh—“ Jake chuckled as he placed Sammy into his booster seat, the little buckles that used to give him a hard time when the twins were younger were seamlessly clipped up in seconds. Jake made sure his youngest was safe and secure before he stood and turned his full undivided attention back to you. “I’ve missed you.” He said genuinely with a love so strong inside his heart you could nearly feel the warmth as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and drew you in for a hug. “It’s good to see you, even if it’s just for one night before you go jet setting.”

With little hesitation you melted into the man you had married all those years ago with ease. Jake was your home, your guiding light. This past year had been rough without him and you knew deep down it had been rough for him too.

But sometimes love just wasn’t enough to save a marriage.

“Yeah—yeah it’s good to see you.” Jake felt your arms wrap around his torso as you let your cheek rest on his shoulder. “I’ve missed you too.” Jake’s scent had alway brought comfort to you, the overwhelming warmth of cedarwood and notes of vanilla bourbon always calmed you, grounded you in reality. “I’m uh—“ You wanted to tell him the truth about what was going on, but you just couldn’t do that to him. You couldn’t ask that much of him. Not after everything you’d both been through over the last year. “I’m just happy you’re here for the kids.”

“Mum! Lennox won’t let me have the window seat!”

“I’m older than you!” Lennox argued back as Jake groaned into your neck. Oh how he’d missed you, missed the kids, missed his family. North Island was great but without the four of you? Something was always missing. A piece of Jake was always missing.

“I’m not just here for the kids.” Jake pulled away at the sound of Lenny and Lucy arguing in the back seat over who was taking the middle seat. “But they’re a bonus, Honey.” He winked as he switched into dad mode and dropped his voice an octave or two. “Stop arguing, I’ll flip a coin.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“Oh woah—“ Jake's eyes lit up as he walked through the front door of the home you’d recently finished moving into. He’d only ever seen it over FaceTime. “It’s bigger than it looked.” The little giggle you let out as you passed him by didn’t go unnoticed. Dirty bird, Jake thought to himself as his eyes lingered down to your ass as you walked ahead of him.

“It’s enough for me and the kids with a spare room.” You replied as Jake continued to look around. Reminisce of cardboard boxes used in your move still remained scattered around the place. “The kids still wanted to put up the Christmas tree even though they aren’t gonna be here.”

“Mama said Santa will know that we’re spending it with Grandma and Grandpa and will take all our presents there.” Lucy caught Jake's attention as she barreled into the living room where the Christmas tree stood tall and proud, decorated with mismatched decorations that you and Jake had collected over the years either from stores or the kids' school crafts. “She also said I could give this to you when you came to stay the night.” Lucy explained as she dropped to her knees and reached under the tree to where a perfectly wrapped gift labelled with Jake's name on it sat. “It’s from mum.”

“Lucy May—“ You nearly hissed as you padded into the living room. “Don’t tell lie’s please.” You pointed, the deal had been you’d get Jake one present and one present only knowing he probably wouldn’t have gotten you anything, and that you’d tell him it was from the kids until he opened it. “You tell your dad who it’s from.” Jake knew by the smirk that crept across his daughter’s face he recognised as his own, that it was from you. Lucy didn’t have to say another word. But she did regardless.

“It’s from me and Lenny.” She replied as Jake sat on the couch he used to sleep on during those nights the two of you couldn’t sleep in the same bed. Those nights where the two of you needed space and those nights where he thought he was doing the right thing by you and giving it to you. He sat on the couch that felt unfamiliar now and took the present his daughter gave him with grace. “Lenny! Dad’s opening our present!”

“What present?” Lennox frowned as he walked into the living room trying to carry two year old Sam. “Oh! Mums present.”

“Lennox!” You groaned aloud in utter defeat.

All Jake could do was laugh to himself as he looked over at you. You were as beautiful as ever, his one and only love. How the fuck did things get so messy where you had to use your children as scapegoats.

“It’s fine, it’s fine—I know it’s from the kids Honey.” Jake winked as you rolled your eyes and headed on into the kitchen where you were getting organised to cook dinner. You were starting to feel awfully tired–the oral chemotherapy was starting to make you feel sicker than you had been before you knew what was going on. A double edged sword really, you keep taking the pills? You get so sick you die. You stop taking the chemotherapy tablets? You get so sick you die. Either way you were dying or you convinced yourself you were.

But Jake could never know that, your kids could never know that, so you went about your routine as normally as you could without making a fuss.

“I might save this for when we get to Grandmas, I wouldn't wanna not have anything to open on Christmas morning Lulu.” Jake smiled as he brought her in for a hug between his legs. “I love you all so much.”

“We love you too dad.” Lucy replied as she hugged Jake back. “Mum loves you too.”

“Oh does she now?” Jake knew that putting all his faith in a six year old probably wasn't the best thing he could do, but right now as he held her in his arms, the little girl the two of you had created–he did. He trusted her to tell the truth you wouldn't, because you wouldn't lie and tell him you didn't love him either. “Guess I'll just have to take your word for it then, won't I?”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Jake Seresin had always been a good dad, you had never questioned him on his ability to go above and beyond for his children. That was something you never had to worry about. As you plated up dinner, the laughter of your three children coming from the living room made you smile to yourself. They were loved so fiercely.

“Alright, let's get ready for dinner, yeah? Mums been cooking up a storm in here.” Jake rounded the corner with Sam hand in hand. “Smells so damn good in here.” You again smiled to yourself as Jake can to stand beside you at the kitchen counter, watching as you scooped some pasta bake onto five plates.

“When's the last time you had a home cooked meal?” It was a simple question but Jake really had to think about it for a moment as he reached over to steal a cucumber slice from the chopped salad.

“Does food from the bar count?” He asked with a half cocked smile, knowing full well that Penny's burgers and fries wouldn’t be considered home cooked in your opinion.

“No–” You grinned as Jake leaned in from behind you, trapping you between him and the counter with both arms encompassing you. “No, when's the last time it was a home cooked meal?” Jake didn't reply right away, he simply inhaled your scent slowly from behind you and took in the comforting scent of elderberry and juniper. He missed that all encompassing feeling, that safe and warming feeling of your presence.

“Uh—probably the last time you cooked for me.” Jake noticed the moment you paused at his words, the revelation that you were having. “And it was probably pasta bake, with salad and pork chops, like what we’re having right now.”

“It’s always your favourite—“ It was clear from the very beginning that both you and Jake were getting caught in the moment. But as his hands slowly make their way from the counter top to hips, you know you were too far gone to press the pause button. “Jacob—“

“I'm a simple man.” Jake cooed as he brought one of his hands up to move your hair from one side of your neck. “Lucy tells me you love me.”

“She’s got a pretty wild imagination that daughter of ours.” You teased as Jake pressed his lips against your neck in a sweet gesture of gratitude for the woman who gave him three beautiful children. “You need to stop—“ You sighed into Jake's warm embrace as he pulled away and let his chin fall to your shoulder. “I don’t know where or what you've been in recently.”

“I think she said her name was Vanessa.” Jake taunted as he held you tightly from behind. He felt you tense in his embrace at the very idea he’d been with someone other than you. But you couldn’t hold it against him, not now, the pair of you were separated. You held no claim on the man you had left in favour of putting yourself first.

But that didn’t mean it still didn’t hurt.

“Vanessa a name I should remember?” You asked with a little attitude in your tone Jake caught immediately. He couldn’t help but to smirk at the idea you were a little jealous of his very infrequent conquests. He loved you to the end of the world but this was such a frustrating situation to be in. What was a guy supposed to do? Be celebate in hopes his wife came running back?

“Nope—“ Jake reassured you with another kiss to the neck. “I’m not ready to let you go, I thought maybe I could if I just leaned into the whole thing, whatever it is that we’re doing, but I’m just not ready to let you go.”

“Have you?” Jake had to clear his throat when he asked. “Been with anyone, that is?”

“Do you think between work, raising three kids with your DNA and missing you that I’d have time to get laid?” You knew what Jake would latch onto, the part where you said you missed him. You saw the light in his eye as you turned in his embrace to face him with a mischievous smile plastered across your face.

“You miss me?” Yes. Yes you did. With all your might you missed him everyday and every night. But it didn’t change what the two of you became.

“Don’t try your luck—“ You argued, shrugging Jake's query off like the answer was obvious. To him it was, you did miss him. Other sailors tend to recognise other sailors on the sea and Jake missed you tenfold.

“Oh I’m feeling like the luckiest guy in the whole world right now.” You could feel Jake pressing himself against you, silently but not so subtly telling you exactly what this whole encounter was doing to him.

“Really? Is that so?” You asked like you weren’t aware of the rock hard erection pressing against your pelvis. Jake just pressed his lips together in an attempt to hold off the crimson red from creeping up his neck and cheeks. But he wasn’t backing down from a challenge, especially when you were leaving all the right doors unlocked for him to walk right through.

“So lucky that I couldn’t help but to notice the spare bed hasn’t even been made up?”

“Oh so you assumed I’d be your personal chef and the maid tonight?” You countered as you looked around for your three small children, not wanting to expose them to such x-rated content before you slowly but surely sunk your hand into the sweatpants Jake had recently changed into. Damn those grey sweats and damn Jake for going commando. “You are perfectly capable of making your own bed.”

The way your palm wrapped around his length sent sparks through Jake's body like nothing he’d ever felt before. Your touch was so beautiful and elegant, like you knew exactly what he needed and where he wanted it.

“Or I could just sleep in yours, with you.” Jake nearly begged as your fist slid up and down his hardened length, feeling him twitch under your control. “Honey—“ He nearly moaned as he fell forward into you, letting his forehead rest against yours. “You’re killing me here.”

“What don’t you get about the fact we’re separated?” You asked almost teasingly like you weren’t pumping him slowly as dinner cooled on the counter behind you while your kids played in the living room.

“For as long as you have my last name, you’re my wife, end of story.” Butterflies, that’s how you’d describe the feeling inside you when Jake, your somewhat ex husband, told you you were still his. You never wanted to not be his, but you were sure that Vanessa maybe wondered if she’d ever be his too.

“Oh you are so full of yourself.” You slowly but surely pulled your hand out from Jake’s sweats and watched him nearly deflate at the loss of sensation, but he never missed a beat, Jake was quick like that, he always had been.

“You could be full of me too if you just let your guard down a little.”

“Jake!!” You slapped his chest firmly as your kids all rushed in at the smell of food.

“I’ll take my stuff upstairs shall I?” He grinned ear to ear, knowing by the way your jaw remained on the ground he had you hook, line and sinker.

“Yeah, you can, to the spare room you idiot.” You watched as Jake fixed himself up and headed in the direction of the stairs. You were still so in love with this man.

“Lenny! Where’s your mothers room?” Jake turned to your eldest son who always knew that the two of you were going to make it through whatever this rough patch was. He had friends who had divorced parents, and even at the young age of six, Lennox knew his parents didn’t hate each other.

“Upstairs to the left, it’s the messy one.” You gave your son the stink eye as he beamed up at you.

“Perfect.” Jake chuckled and sent you a wink. “I’ll be right back.” He was getting laid tonight and you both knew it.

“I’m—“ You hardly had the energy to keep your whole hard to get act up, so with a sigh, you let your guard down for the man who held your heart in the palm of his hands. “You’re unbelievably.”

“I’ve been told by the youth on base it’s called Rizz now.” Jake yelled back as he jogged up the wooden stairs, you could just barely hear him as his voice faded the higher he climbed. But nevertheless, you still heard him.

“Well I can’t wait to get both you and your ‘rizz’ out of my house!” You shouted back, Lenny just laughed as he watched his Dad pull a funny face at your words from the top of the stairs.

“You don’t mean that.” He smiled up at you. “You and dad love each other.” It made your heart skip a beat, but you had to remember that you were playing a dangerous game here. Letting Jake in now would only break his heart more. You had to do what was best for you, and that was to remain separate. At least while you were fighting for your life.

“Maybe, but he’s still a pain in my ass Lenny.”

***~****~****~***~***~***

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 91 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove ve @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog @goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination

#was it over? // jake seresin #tw: breast cancer #tw: cancer #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman fic

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nhlclover · 2 years ago

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NOT OVER YOU | TREVOR ZEGRAS

word count: 1.44k

summary: your childhood friend comes home, digging up old feelings once felt for him

warnings: slight drinking, kissing, use of 'y/f/i' which stands for 'your first initial'

Trevor Zegras is a boy you never forget.

Growing up next door to him, he was always in my life. From preschool to middle school, we were friends, spending most moments of the day together. Over time, I found myself being drawn to the boy that lived next door to me. I quickly figured, however, that my crush was one-sided. I did my best to forget my crush but failed to do so.

Even as the years passed and boyfriends have come and gone from my life, my crush on Trevor has always sat in the backseat.

When my mom told me Trevor was coming back to New York for a few weeks in the summer, I was excited. Though those feelings were promptly replaced by ones of nervousness when she informed me he had been invited for dinner at our house.

Seeing him walk up my driveway brings back memories of when we were kids, him doing the same to come and ask me if I wanted to go for a bike ride or hang out in my treehouse. We spent every moment of every summer together.

“Y/n/n. I can’t believe it.” He says. Trevor scoops me up spinning me around once.

“Trevor put me down!” I shriek.

He does so, setting me down, and looking down at me. He’s several inches taller than the last time I saw him, and has definitely put on muscle. Seeing him in front of me I am promptly reminded of my feelings for my best friend. My childhood crush has only grown into something stronger as we’ve gotten older.

“What?” He asks me.

“You look so different.” I say.

“I could say the same about you.” Trevor says, eyeing me up and down.

“I hope that’s a good thing.” I joke.

“It’s good believe me.” He smiles. “God, it’s been so long.”

“Well, you’re the one who lives in California.” I remind.

“Yeah, and you’re the one that decided to go to an ivy league school in fucking Rhode Island.” He jokes.

“Fine, we’re both at fault. Truce?” I ask, sticking my hand out for a handshake.

He snorts, shaking my hand, then pulling me into his chest and tossing an arm around my shoulders. We walk into the house, my parents immediately greeting him like he was their own son. My mom brings him in for a tight hug while my dad shakes his hand, asking about hockey and handing him a beer. We eat dinner, Trevor charming my mother by complimenting her cooking.

“I don’t know why you never dated Trevor, he’s much more polite than any of the guys you’ve brought home before.” My mom says.

“Mom, seriously?” I ask, my cheeks heating up. I dare to look over at Trevor who has an intrigued look on his face.

“You’ve been bringing guys home, huh?” He asks.

“Only two!” I say in defence. “And that was in my first year!”

“That is true. None since.” My mother nods. “So I still have hope for the two of you.”

I groan, burrowing my gaze in my food, missing Trevor’s smile and looking in my direction. We wrap up dinner, Trevor and I clearing the table while my parents put out dessert. Not long after, my parents retire to bed, leaving the two of us alone. Trevor and I crack open a second beer each and sit down at the kitchen table, catching up. He tells me about hockey and his new life in Anaheim, while I tell him about life at Brown.

“Oh my god, you guys still have the treehouse?” Trevor asks, looking out the back window in the kitchen.

“Yeah, I refused to let Dad tear it down.” I laugh. “It’s still the same as when we were young.”

“Shut up, really?” Trevor asks, whipping his head at me.

“Yeah, it’s got the 5SOS posters and everything.”

Suddenly Trevor is by the back door, opening it and walking through our backyard to the large oak tree that holds the old treehouse. I follow him, watching as he climbs up the rickety wooden ladder, holding a beer bottle in one hand. “Trevor, I don’t know how stable it is!” I call to him.

He ignores me and continues to climb the ladder, opening the hatch at the top and disappearing into the house. I stand at the base of the ladder looking up into the house, seeing Trevor standing at the opening and looking down at me.

“Come up!” He calls.

My brain is dragged back to my childhood, seeing the familiar blonde as I normally would in our summers together. I sigh, beginning to climb the ladder that creaks with every rung I climb. When I climb through the opening, I see Trevor sitting on the wooden pallet couch my dad had made for me when I was young. The couch no longer had cushions and was beginning to decay slightly.

I look around, my chosen artwork still scattered on the walls. 5 Seconds of Summer posters remain on the walls, wilting away, and the blue-painted walls are chipped.

“It still looks the same.” I say softly.

“I mean, yeah if the interior of the treehouse went through an apocalypse.” Trevor says, looking around.

I roll my eyes, sitting beside Trevor on the wooden couch. “God, we used to spend so much time in here.” I say.

“Wait.” Trevor says suddenly, standing up and going to the oak tree that shoots through the centre of the treehouse. He scans the wood, seemingly looking for something.

“I found it!” He says, waving me over.

I stand by his side, looking at where his finger is touching the tree. Above it, ‘T + y/f/i’ is faintly etched into the wood. “Oh my God, I forgot about that.” I say, burying my face in my hands.

When Trevor and I were 11 there was a two-week period that we “dated”. I use the word dated loosely as it was barely a relationship, and Trevor and I never kissed.

“I was heartbroken when you dumped me.” Trevor joked.

“Oh sure you were.” I roll my eyes, going to sit down.

He comes around the tree, finishing off his beer. “I truly was.”

I shake my head, laughing at him. “You don’t believe me?” He asks, sitting down beside me.

“Don’t even, Trevor.” I look over at him, seeing him staring intently at me. His blue eyes are still just as piercing as they were when we were young. Still just as captivating.

“What?” I ask softly.

“Nothing.” He says.

“No, no. Tell me.” I say, sitting up and looking at him. He stares back with a smirk tugging on his lips.

“When you smile, your lips still hook to the left.” He says.

It’s an odd quirk I have and everyone still points it out to me. When I smile, the left side of my mouth goes higher than the right, giving me a crooked smile. I grew up hating it. “Ugh, don’t point it out.” I say, covering my lips with my hand.

“Don’t.” He says, pulling my hand down.

His eyes are delicate as he looks into mine. Suddenly he sits up, leaning forward, and connecting our lips. I hear the empty bottle fall from his hand, clinking as it hits the floor. Trevor’s hands come up to my face, softly holding me there. Before I can kiss him back, his lips pull back. I open my eyes, finding his looking straight into mine.

We sit there momentarily, neither one of us finding the words we want to say. I decide to let actions speak for themselves, leaning back into Trevor, and connecting our lips once again. His tongue sweeps past my lips as I part them, granting him access. My hands press against his chest for stability, his slipping down to my waist, pulling me into him.

I gasp softly as I pull away, resting my forehead against his and looking into his eyes once more. “You have no clue how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Trevor says softly, still slightly gasping in between words.

“Really?” I ask, our foreheads still pressed together.

“I have never not wanted you, y/n.” Trevor says. “Seriously. You’re all I’ve thought about since the day we met.”

“But, all these years… I thought we were just friends?”

“I thought that’s what you wanted.” I quickly shake my head at his words. Trevor kisses me again, smiling against my lips. We break apart, matching smiles on our faces. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and I giggle at my childhood dream coming true finally.

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #anaheim ducks #hockey #luvzegras

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jellybeanium124 · 1 month ago

Text

Stede excused himself from the brightly lit ballroom with two hundred chatting people and loud band to go to the bathroom. He sat on the toilet for five minutes in the brightly lit bathroom as other fundraiser guests walked in and out, doing their business and washing their hands.

All he wanted to do was go home. He didn't want to talk, he didn't want to be wearing a suit, he didn't want a fancy meal. This was unusual for Stede. He normally loved wearing a fancy suit while eating a fancy meal and talking nonstop, but he was tired and his whole head and body was buzzing. His suit felt too tight and itchy, and he swore he could feel tags rubbing against him, and his shoes hurt.

He left the stall and washed his hands and started wandering around. He shouldn't be doing this, abandoning the party to snoop around like a curious child, but he couldn't go back in there. What was he supposed to do? Go find Mary and stand behind her while she talks like a functioning adult? He didn't even know why he felt like crap.

The entire building the party was being hosted in was bright and fancy, but at least here in a random hallway with benches and candelabras on the walls and plush velvet carpeting, it's quiet.

He turned a corner and saw a man sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall where a bit of it juts out to form a small corner. He's got his knees tucked up to his chest.

"Sir, are you okay?" Stede asked, walking over to the man.

He looked surprised to see someone. "What? Yes, yeah, I'm fine. I'm with the fundraiser benefit, that's why I'm here. I just... needed a break."

"Me too."

"...You wanna sit?"

"Ok."

Stede sat down on the carpet next to the man, and stretched his legs out.

"I'm Stede," he said, holding out his hand.

"Stede??" the man echoed, shocked. "Shit, Stede Bonnet?"

"Um... yes?"

The man seemed to grow shyer, and looked away. Stede put his hand down. Then he pulled his knees up and sighed.

"You've probably read those articles, right? About Bonnet Suits? Where I'm the silly spoiled son of an evil Disney villain?"

"Yeah... might've..."

"Well, Mr. Teach was right about some things. My father is evil. There's no appealing to his humanity no matter what. He won't make any of the changes I want to make in the company. That's why everyone thinks I'm so useless. Maybe all my ideas are stupid anyways... I just have stupid ideas..."

"What are your ideas?"

"Pay every single employee who works in the factories making suits for us the equivalent of $15 an hour. Every single one. I've done the math 40 different ways, it's possible! We could pay them more, but I've got to start somewhere. My father always shuts me down and tells me I'd be throwing away hundreds of millions in profits. I've stopped trying to convince him to do something by explaining how this will help the people who make the suits that made him fucking wealthy beyond his wildest dreams, and right now I'm working the whole 'everyone loves human rights this will get us more customers and we can charge more if people think we're sustainable' angle but even that's not working. I can't take it anymore. I have a little boat. I bought it as a fiftieth birthday gift to myself. It's sitting at a pier in Rhode Island right now. No one knows about it. Not my father, not my wife... once I grow some balls I'm going there and getting on my boat and I'm not coming back."

The man blinked at him.

"Sorry... fuck... I don't know why I said all of that. Fuck, there's journalists at this thing. I'm supposed to be doing good for my father's reputation, not sitting in a hallway talking about what a piece of shit he is..."

The man swallowed. "Yeah..."

"Enough about my stupid problems, you really don't seem okay. Are you sick? Should..." Stede cut himself off and looked at the floor.

"Should...?"

Stede shook his head. "Nothing. You came out here for some peace and quiet, and I'm fucking it all up. I can go now."

"I wouldn't mind if you sat and we had peace and quiet together."

Stede smiled at him briefly, before leaning his head back against the wall and letting out a sigh.

For a few minutes, the two of them sat together in silence. It felt a little good, at least, to know that there was someone else here who couldn't stand to be at that party longer than thirty minutes. A kindred spirit, maybe. A potential friend.

"I'm Ed Teach," the man said quietly, after a few minutes had passed.

Stede's heart dropped through the floor.

He was sitting next to the man who called him an ineffectual, under-qualified, empty-headed heir to a despicable fashion fortune. And he was right.

"Oh," Stede said.

"That's it? 'Oh?' You're not going to have me thrown out? No yelling? You're not even gonna bribe me to stop talking about your dad's company and the shit he pulls?"

Stede shrugged. "Eh, we deserve worse."

"You're a lot different than I thought you'd be."

"You're a lot different too. I thought you'd be a ruthless and mean sneaky journalist."

Ed sighed. "It's hard being like that all the time... I thought you'd be a prick. A real entitled asshole."

Stede smiled gently. "At least one thing my father never gave me was his personality."

Ed nodded. "But y'know, if you're really serious about change, why don't you just fucking do it? Stop waiting for your dad's approval, go to Cambodia and Bangladesh, and pay them out of your own pocket? Running away to Rhode fuckin' Island isn't gonna help anyone."

Stede cocked his head at him curiously. "Could I do that? Go behind my father's back and just... pay them out of my own savings? Is that legal?"

"I mean, you can give people money. You can write checks. You could write me a check right now. That'd be legal."

Stede raised an eyebrow. "Writing a check for my nemesis journalist? That'd be awful suspect, even if it's legal."

"Okay okay okay not me specifically, but, like, you can do that. You can write checks. I know you're sitting on millions and millions of dollars, Bonnet."

"Okay," Stede said, standing up. "Let's go."

"Let's?"

"Yes. Let's go. Fuck em."

Ed stood up. "Now?"

Stede nodded. "Now. Let's get our passports and board the first plane we can. I'm going behind my father's back, like you suggested."

"And you want me... to come with you?"

"Of course. Presumably I'll need a journalist on my side when this shitstorm goes public," Stede said with a manic smile.

~~~

Obviously, our juvenile stunt didn't immediately solve everything. Bonnet Sr. still had access to Stede's finances, and drained his bank accounts so the millions he gave out in checks would bounce. But our stunt wasn't without its value. It immediately brought public attention to Bonnet Suits, and the fashion industry and its abuses in general. Bonnet Sr.'s now infamous meltdown during his interview for Reuters caused him to step down as CEO, leaving Stede to take over. Over the course of the following year, Stede made sweeping reforms inside the company, all according to plans he'd spent years trying to get his father to implement. Yesterday he publicly announced that he's retiring, and now here I am, retiring as well. People often compare us to Romeo and Juliet, with one reporter who shall remain nameless calling us "just as fockin stupid as those teenage twats." And perhaps we are just as stupid and headstrong as them. I did get on a plane to Bangladesh with a billionaire approximately 5 hours after meeting him (he'd never flown on a commercial flight before, he was adorably excited about trying the "airplane food" and requested a pin with wings on it like kids get). But now it's been well over a year, and I'm still stupidly in love with him, so up yours. I'm going to retire and spend the rest of my days eating fresh lobster rolls and relaxing on my husband's little boat. Journalism has no doubt taken years off my life, so I'm going to spend whatever time I have left happy.

Take it sleazy, Ed Teach

#having 'hm. this kinda sucks' feels. fuck you anxiety I don't need your shit

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jnnul · 6 months ago

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the right side of wrong. (part two)

TAGS ▸ uh like mentions of glass breaking, and food eating??, this chapter is pretty tame lol

PLAYLIST ▸ yosemite - travis scott, back - jey, stay - ari abdul, element - pop smoke, dirty laundry - blackbear

WORD COUNT ▸ 6.5k

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ didn't want this part to be too long since i'm trying to stick to my end word count of 40k lol. next chapter is gonna move things along for sure though! this one is just plot + world building. quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!

TAGLIST ▸ @hybeboyenthusisast

[march 19, 20XX, 11:48 a.m.]

[mount justice, happy harbor, rhode island]

“you’ve never watched television before?” soojin asks incredulously, staring at y/n. she shrugs, looking at the remote in her hand with a curious look.

“i mean, television is harder to warp since it could be live broadcasted. magic takes a lot of energy, and i don’t think anyone cared about me enough to warp television day in and day out. i mostly just read books. fiction.” jay lets out a low whistle as he puts the baking tray into the oven.

soojin and jay had taken it upon themselves to be ‘den mothers’ for y/n since she didn’t really have anyone else to connect with, and since they were the only ones who lived at mount justice.

“really? well, at least now you’ll never be bored. when i was on mars, watching television from earth is practically the only thing i ever did,” soojin says and smiles when she sees jay make his way to the television set in the other room, picking out dvd’s of old movies to start y/n with.

“yeah. i mean, it was pretty boring since i could only do things that were already vetted by my dad. i could only read the books he wanted me to. i could only eat the foods that he brought me. i could only learn the things in textbooks that he conjured. it was a life that felt like prison,” she explained, her voice trailing off as she reminisced not-so-fondly about her life in the other dimension.

“you know, i hate to say it, but usually people come out of solitary confinement totally mistrustful and don’t reveal anything to the people around them because of their time. i know that your case was a little different but i just - ” soojin is cut off by y/n, who’s eyes have grown hard and full of fire.

“but i don’t seem depressed or psychotic. in fact, i look and speak like a pretty normal girl, don’t i?” y/n says, her voice cold and emotionless. a shiver runs down soojin’s spine. this is what she had expected from someone who had no one but the light to grow up with. someone who was ready to fight at any given moment; a cold and ruthless killer.

“i’m sorry,” soojin says and just as quickly as y/n had slipped into the persona, she slips out of it.

“no, don’t apologize. i understand the confusion. it’s a mix of two things: my father may have been controlling my environment but he never actually tried to control me. he said that my powers and my face was all his, but that my personality and my brain was all of my mother’s. my father loved me very much, and locking me up to ‘protect me’ was his insane way of showing it. so i know what it’s like to be warm, trusting, and affectionate. it’s not as though i never knew the emotion. and as easy as it would be to live my life without ever trusting you guys, i just don’t think i want to live like that again. that’s how i’ve been living ever since i found out the truth about this dimension.” y/n sighs, crossing her arms over her chest and hugging them close to her body, as if to trap the heat into the depths of her skin. “but also - even with all of that love - i’ve lived a better life in the past two days than i have in the past twenty years. people here tell me the difference between reality and fiction. everyone in that dimension just told me whatever i wanted to hear. or whatever i needed to hear to stay in their grasp. i wasn’t really a child to look after to anyone else in the light. i was more like a harmless puppy.”

“that’s why they didn’t train you in combat either?” soojin asks and y/n nods, shrugging.

“it’s hard to keep a puppy under control when she’s been taught to bite.”

jay, who’d come back to the kitchen with a myriad of genres to explore sighs. “you know, that kind of reminds me of my time at cadmus.”

“what’s a cadmus?” y/n asks, and jay is silent for a moment, picking and choosing his words wisely.

“it’s a prison of its own. i was made as superman’s clone and raised in a facility to have the powers of superman but no mind of my own. i was literally created to be a rabid dog just barely on a leash,” jay says, and when he looks up at y/n, he doesn’t see the pity that he usually gets (and hates). instead, he just sees solidarity and for some reason, it feels as though she truly understood what exactly he’d gone through.

“but enough of the sad past talk. we’ve got to get you caught up on cinema and there’s nothing but time, right now! so what do you say, y/n? are you feeling mystery? romance? comedy? romantic-comedy?” soojin says, clapping her hands. y/n peruses her options before picking a movie, unable to tear her eyes away from the cover.

“i don’t think i know what love is but whatever it is, it’s gotta be this right now. who is this fine man?” y/n asks, staring at the man on the cover of the dvd and soojin giggles.

“that’s henry cavill, and trust me, we all think that way,” she says, winking at jay, who just rolls his eyes with a grin.

“well then, the immortals, it is,” jay says, leading them all to the living area, where the television was.

“oh, i hate to bring up cadmus again but you said something that i thought i should clarify,” y/n says suddenly, her face serious and contemplative. jay and soojin exchange a look.

“what is it, y/n? do you remember something else about the light?” soojin asks worriedly.

“no. no - i just wanted to ask…what the hell is a superman?”

“oh boy.”

[march 19, 20XX, 11:48 a.m.]

[palo alto, california]

yujin checks her phone for the third time in the span of thirty seconds, her knee bouncing as she waited in the courtyard of stanford university for her boyfriend. she stares down at her phone impatiently, waiting for jake when she’s offered a short reprieve from the california sun beating down on her as a shadow casts across her face.

“you know, you really need to start caring more about your boyfriend and less about this new girl you have a crush on,” says the person who deprives yujin of her vitamin d.

“i don’t have a crush on her. but i do really need to check something out in gotham,” yujin says, looking up at jake. “and i need you to come with me.”

jake frowns, checking his watch. “is it serious? we have the pottery painting double date with the colemans at five.”

“no, it’s not serious. it’s just strange. and i don’t know, i just don’t want to investigate alone. figured i would put your forensics degree to use,” yujin replies.

“forensics? are we talking about a dead body here?” jake asks and yujin shakes her head, looking back down at her phone. she turns the phone screen so that jake could see what had her so on edge and gasps, taking the phone from her and examining carefully.

the image on yujin’s phone wasn’t gory or grotesque like jake had expected. instead, the image was (relatively) straightforward: someone had broken into ace chemical factory - literally. everything made of glass in the image was shattered to pieces, and the old stone building was suffering some serious cracks.

“this looks like some sort of sonic weaponry type damage. i see why this is sad and disturbing for gotham city history enthusiasts but i’m still not seeing why a forensics analysis is necessary. does sunghoon know about this?,” jake says, frowning as he examines the picture.

yujin swipes to the next picture, and jake’s frown grows even deeper as he looks at the picture.

“it looks like the same person who broke into ace chemicals also did some serious property damage to the yacht bridge. this has got to be at least twenty to forty million dollars in damage,” jake says, his eyebrows furrowed. “i still don’t see how this is an issue for forensics though.”

“check the timestamps. sunghoon wants us to do a little analysis for the team while he carries out the investigation on the legal side. you know, since superpowers are probably involved,” yujin says and jake swipes back and forth, checking the timestamps of the pictures.

“these pictures indicate that the damage was done at the same exact time. how the hell is that possible? i didn’t know that sonic weaponry was that easy to find,” jake says cynically, swiping back and forth once more.

“yeah. but check this: the damage looks the exact same. as if it were done by the same weapon,” yujin says, pointing out the shape of the glass shards that were scattered across the floors of each of the buildings. jake looks closer until he notices something that rubs him the wrong way, zooming in to show yujin too.

“look at this, though. in the picture of the yacht bridge, there’s clear indications that the weaponry used was barely functional; i mean the glass shattered but the shatter isn’t nearly as finely ground as the glass here, in the ace chemical factory picture. it’s not as identical as we think it is,” jake explains. “and this is just a hunch, but it seems like the motives are different too - i mean, i can’t think of a single reason why anyone would voluntarily go to ace chemical factory at eight in the evening. that place has been shut down for years, and it was never producing anything too valuable in the first place.”

“but the yacht bridge would mean that some rich people are moving some big amounts of money in the next couple of days,” yujin says slowly. “especially with the weather growing warmer, more and more people are getting their boats ready to take out onto the waters.”

“and when did you say icicle sr. was at the bank?” jake asks, mentally committing the picture to memory.

“not even fifteen minutes later. the bank is pretty close to ace chemicals but it’s on the other side of gotham. unless it was you or the flash, i’m not sure that anyone could make it from the yacht bridge to the bank in time. but from ace chemicals, there’s more than enough time to do so,” yujin says, swiping to the next picture, where she’d circled the three locations.

“well, i’m not sure how much help i’m gonna be but i’ll check out all three of the locations with you if that’s what you need me to do,” jake says, handing yujin back her phone and she pockets it quickly, checking her watch.

“well then, i’m gonna have to borrow the powers of kid flash to complete this recon mission,” she says, a teasing glint in her eyes and jake flashes her a megawatt smile.

“kid flash, at your service, ma’am. now, let’s not keep the colemans waiting for too long.”

[march 19, 20XX, 11:48 a.m.]

[gotham city, southern tip of new jersey]

“detective park? we have some people inquiring about the simultaneous break-ins at ace chemicals and the yacht bridge from yesterday. is the field team ready to go to the site?” byun euijoo, the station’s pretty boy and correspondent/representative asks, looking haggard from having to respond to entitled rich people all day.

“yeah. we’re ready,” sunghoon says, nodding at the team that he’d assembled to investigate the break-ins. he had a sneaking suspicion that yujin and jake would have better luck in finding the source of the issues but he had a job and appearances to keep up anyway.

“right. i’ll tell them that our team’s on site working on the case and that we’ll find the perpetrators as soon as possible,” euijoo says, typing away on his little ipad, murmuring something under his breath. “even though it’s most likely that the justice league’s gonna handle this anyway. or whoever the hell they send to take care of things secretly.”

“what’d you say?” sunghoon says, unbuttoning the buttons on the cuffs of his sleeves to roll them up, hanging the detective badge over his neck.

“nothing. it’s just - does our station ever really do anything? it feels like we just get anonymous intel that solves the entire case for us. not that you’re not a great detective and you’ve definitely been vital to solving cases and putting everything together. but, you know, it just feels pointless when the justice league or whatever team they’ve put together for undercover missions does everything for us anyway,” euijoo huffs, hugging his ipad to his chest.

sunghoon rests his hand on euijoo’s shoulder, slinging his jacket over his own shoulder. “this station is the face of every case that comes to this city. no matter what kind of anonymous tips we get - or however timely or true those tips might be - we deliberate the truth and we have to search and give the people an answer. our job is no less important because whoever is helping us has gotten involved.”

“but you don’t ever get curious about who exactly is helping us?” euijoo asks, somewhat shamefully.

“hm. maybe? but if they want to reveal themselves, they will. no point in looking a gift horse in the mouth, right?”

euijoo doesn’t have much to say to that and sunghoon just smiles, passing him to lead the team to first the yacht bridge, and then ace chemicals. yujin and jake would be checking ace chemicals first so it would be easier for them to examine things in peace if the detective team (and the horde of reporters that would be sure to follow) headed to the yacht bridge first.

plus, rich people were impatient. and pushy.

“alright,” sunghoon begins, clapping his hands. “let’s find these assholes.”

the motorcycle ride to the yacht bridge wasn’t that far. maybe twelve or thirteen minutes at maximum. but those thirteen minutes felt like absolute torture all the way through.

sunghoon preferred motorcycles because he liked feeling the wind whipping his jacket and at his hair when he wasn’t feeling like following rules. he loved the feeling of feeling superhuman in his speed and agility as he raced down the streets of gotham. it also could have been the time that sunghoon had spent with eunwoo rubbing off on him, now that he thought about it.

but now, with all of these reporters hot on his heels, hounding him with questions that they were screaming over the howling winds, it was absolute torture. sunghoon could barely concentrate on the road in front of him from the sheer multitude of questions that he was being barraged with.

sunghoon’s thoughts lead him to ardor, as a way to distract himself from the questions that he was pretending he couldn’t hear.

she was probably spending time with jay and soojin around this time, wasn’t she? maybe catching up on the current events that she’d missed out on in all of her time trapped in that dimension? or possibly eating foods that she didn’t even know existed? knowing soojin, she was definitely showing ardor some sort of show or movie. jay was probably just happy to be around soojin and soojin was always happy to welcome new people into the den, since the only two permanent residents of the den were jay and soojin.

his mind goes back to something that eunwoo had said as sunghoon was on his way out.

eunwoo was a relatively stoic person and wasn’t shaken or moved by much. he didn’t really have intense highs but he also didn’t have intense lows, and while that had annoyed sunghoon when he was looking for affection that eunwoo simply couldn’t provide, it proved to be helpful and necessary every time sunghoon found himself shaking with the intensity of his emotions when he was going through his teenage years.

so for eunwoo to grab sunghoon’s elbow as he’s on his way out of the cha manor, his eyes downcast and contemplative… it was definitely a cause for concern for sunghoon.

“i don’t want to reveal too much because i’m not sure that it’s my place to share anything with the team when it’s a justice league issue but if what y/n is saying is true, the possibility that the justice league has a mole is quite frankly, worryingly high. i can’t tell you how to run the team and i’ll carry out my investigation as discreetly as possible but as someone in this field for longer than you have, i have some requests and some advice. first, i suggest that you keep y/n as close to you as possible. if word of the investigation leaks, the light will not hesitate to hurt her or maybe even kill her, depending on how desperate faust is. i trust the team but i trust you the most, sunghoon. second, this is my request, but you might consider adding her to the team. pyrokinetics are not a joke - and her flame doesn’t kill, which is even better. not to mention that if you take her on missions - ”

“we might discover something that she’s been keeping from us, intentionally or not,” sunghoon finished with a sigh, rubbing his hand over his face.

“you know?” eunwoo asked incredulously.

“not really, to be honest. but miss martian mentioned something about how she’s keeping something important from us. i’m pretty sure that not even she knows though. according to miss martian, it’s something that she knows is important but it’s behind a mental block - can’t tell if it’s a block from a magician or an emotional block. combat is pretty primal though; it unlocks parts of us that we don’t even know exist. so maybe after some training and survival techniques, ardor could be a good addition to the team. or maybe it’ll be a good way to release the stress or whatever mental blocks she has in her mind.”

eunwoo was quiet, watching sunghoon before shaking his head. “you really grew up too fast.”

“you’re still only a couple years older than me,” sunghoon replied but when he looked at eunwoo, he doesn’t see a scolding or discomfort welling up in his eyes - just unadulterated pride and joy in sunghoon’s growth.

“yeah. i know.”

sunghoon snaps out of his thoughts, parking the bike in front of the entrance into the yacht bridge, flashing his detective badge at the attendant in the front - although he’s pretty sure he doesn’t need to, since there’s only one detective that was always called upon in strange cases like this: him.

“show me the way,” he says, trying his best to offer a charming smile. the attendant just sneers, pressing a button to open the gates into the yacht bridge with an unimpressed look, distrust swimming in his eyes and sunghoon does it best to keep it from affecting him.

today was going to be a long day.

[march 19, 20XX, 6:59 p.m.]

[mount justice, happy harbor, rhode island]

sunghoon collapses on the sofa in the living area of mount justice, a defeated look on his face, a wet cloth draped over his face to release the heat that he felt was practically coming off of him in waves after getting off of work just prior to using the zeta tubes to reach mount justice.

“gotham city giving you some trouble?” soojin asks, sliding a plate of cookies over to where the heaping lump of sunghoon was.

“not really,” sunghoon sighs before taking the wet cloth off of his face. “never mind. yeah, it seems like one of our cases is a little more complicated than i had anticipated. don’t mind me though. are yujin and jake here yet?”

“they said something about a double date earlier so i doubt that they’ll get back until at least eight.” soojin munches on the cookies, nose crinkling in satisfaction as she analyzes the taste. “wow, y/n’s a good baker. can’t believe she didn’t share how talented she was before.”

“y/n made these?” sunghoon asks, staring at the cookies apprehensively. they’re a perfect golden-brown, with chocolate chips added generously to each one. “they honestly look store bought.”

“nope. i made them from scratch,” says a new voice in the room. y/n looks somewhat shy as she enters the room, carrying two plates of dinner served in each of them. “i’m learning like pyrokinetics are useful for cooking - and easier to use than stoves. i don’t really understand them.”

“you made dinner? with fire power?” sunghoon gawks, his stomach growls betraying him as he takes in the smell of the dinner that y/n had made. his arms reach out instinctively, and y/n hands him the plate gingerly, handing the other plate to soojin.

“i had a lot of help,” she says, hiding her hands behind her back to keep sunghoon from seeing the number of bandages on her hands from her clumsy first trials with using knives. knives = weapons in the dimension she was from, so she didn’t exactly have too much practice with them until now.

“don’t be humble. i didn’t do anything,” jay says, entering with two more plates of food. “i just showed her how refrigerators and garbage disposals worked.”

“you didn’t have refrigerators?” sunghoon says, turning to y/n, mixing the curry into the rice.

“no. i ate on a day to day basis so i never really needed one,” y/n says with a shrug, but sunghoon can see the sadness in her eyes. he takes a bite of the curry, as if to divert her attention and immediately, his eyes grow wide as he stares down at the plate.

how could curry even taste this good? was it even possible for chickpeas to taste like this? were these even chickpeas?

his eyebrows furrow as he analyzes the curry, trying to figure out exactly what she’d had added to make it taste so heavenly.

y/n take his silence in the opposite way that he meant it, however, and her face falls as she watches his reaction. “you don’t like it? i’m so sorry, i’m sure that soojin has some leftovers from lunch!”

sunghoon shakes his vigorously as she starts to move out of the room to heat up leftovers. “no! i mean, i love it. i genuinely was just taken aback by how good it is. i had no clue that you could cook like this, y/n.”

she blushes, the prettiest color rising in her cheeks. “it’s just some stuff that i’d picked up whenever i got bored. cookbooks are surprisingly easy to memorize and fun to read.”

“well whatever you did, you have got to teach me,” soojin says, her face scrunched up in pleasure. “this is so good, i feel like i’m gonna cry.”

“no kidding,” jay agrees, eyebrows furrowed in what looks like anger at just how good the dinner was.

“you guys are too sweet,” y/n says with a shy laugh, falling back into her seat when she’s met vehement protests at her humility, comparing her to some guy (gordon ramsey?) she’s not quite sure of.

“this is incredible,” sunghoon says, and his eyes shine when they meet with hers, causing her to avert her own eyes, his gaze heavy on her face.

“oh, i really hope there’s enough for yujin and jake when they get here. although, i kinda wanna get seconds. or thirds,” soojin says with a sigh of satisfaction.

“yujin’s coming?” y/n asks, perking up at the mention of artemis. “i haven’t seen her all day today.”

“yeah, they’ve been busy for the past couple days but jake’s been complaining that he’s lost his girlfriend to the new girl at mount justice. apparently yujin’s been worried about how you’re holding up, all the way on the other side of the country.” jay’s words cause y/n to descend into another flurry of bashful denial, smiling when she hears that her new friend would be returning to mount justice.

“speaking of those two, has jake talked to you guys about the proposal plans yet?” sunghoon asks, chewing slowly, as if that would make the food’s flavor last longer in his mouth. jay’s eyes dart between him, soojin, and y/n as if to ask silently if it was okay to let y/n in on secrets such as these - even if they weren’t exactly damning evidence for crucial missions.

we can trust her. i’ll explain later but for now, just know that whatever you could say to the team, you can say to her, sunghoon explains through the mindlink.

“oh yeah,” soojin says excitedly, clapping her hands. she turns to y/n with an excited twinkle in her eyes. “jake, yujin’s boyfriend and our resident speedster, is planning on proposing to yujin soon! he recruited our help to help make sure the whole day goes perfectly.”

y/n leans forward, equally enthusiastic as soojin. “really? that’s going to be so wonderful; i can’t even imagine how that would look like! gosh, i’m so excited.”

“has he decided on a date yet?” jay asks, the tension from before having evaporated when sunghoon confirmed that y/n was allowed to be privy to such information.

“he said something about a june date? after they graduate in may, for sure, and on a day when it’s sunny and calm out. he wants that to be the one day that things go according to plan,” sunghoon says with a snort, shaking his head at the antics of his best friend.

“can you blame him? it seems as though having things go according to plan is a luxury we do not experience very often in our field,” says a new voice, and the four of them turn to see heeseung enter the room with a motorcycle helmet in hand. “your helmet was about to become a chew toy for wolf, so i figured that i’d bring it to safety.”

y/n checks the entryway, perhaps as if to see if wolf, jay’s wolf friend and resident snuggle buddy, would follow his recently confiscated chew toy but it seemed that wolf had found satisfaction in other toys.

she’d seen him bite straight through concrete with unbridled enthusiasm the other day, so all she could hope was that his toy for the day wasn’t going to be her door. which was bulletproof metal, but she wasn’t exactly sure what that wolf was capable of.

“thanks heeseung. wanna grab dinner? y/n made it and it’s absolute heaven,” sunghoon says, pointing at the plate that he’d practically licked clean. heeseung nods, and the two of them head out of the living area to the kitchen to serve themselves.

“here, let me come with you. i can get dessert started too,” y/n says, standing up. “i got excited after learning how an oven worked - though i kinda ended up, uh, getting creative with my fire because that was faster - so i ended up making brownies too. anyone up for brownie ice cream?”

soojin and jay’s hands shoot up almost unbelievably quickly.

“wow, those speeds would put kid flash to shame,” sunghoon quips and soojin and jay just ignore him, scrambling to their feet as all of them make their way into the kitchen.

“just wait. you think this dinner and these cookies were good? those brownies put them all to shame,” jay says, pacing back and forth in the kitchen, not looking too unlike his canine companion.

“it seems that you have won the hearts of many, y/n,” heeseung says, a knowing twinkle in his eyes.

y/n just looks at him, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words. heeseung was the person that she was the least close to - bar sunghoon, but she was warming up pretty quickly to the ‘pretty boy detective’ as jay called him. heeseung, however, wasn’t around mount justice over the past few days that she’d been there for too long and it seemed like he always knew something that no one else did.

he probably did know, though. there was just some aura around him that made him seem incredibly all-knowing and wise.

“uh, y/n? are the brownies in the oven or in the fridge?” sunghoon asks, and y/n is successfully distracted, rushing over to the fridge to pull out the brownies she’d made earlier, flitting from the counter and the fridge to assemble the brownie ice cream.

once everyone had been served their portion (jay was a special exception to the only one brownie rule; super strength required special food sizes was his explanation), the five of them headed back to the couch area, soojin excitedly recounting jake’s proposal plan as well as she could through a mouthful of brownie and ice cream.

“she’s charged up,” sunghoon comments, leaning over to whisper in y/n’s ear. “she’s been pretty excited about this whole proposal thing.”

“i’m not sure if i’m right but it seems to be a hint to jay; i think she’s waiting for him to propose too,” y/n whispers back and sunghoon looks at her with wide eyes.

“really? does jay know that?” he asks and y/n shrugs, spooning ice cream into her mouth.

“i doubt it. i doubt that even soojin knows that how she’s coming across to others. or just me, i guess. it must be a ‘woman’s intuition’ type thing,” she explains, nodding along to whatever soojin was saying so as to appease her excitement.

“speaking of intuition, i have to ask you something, but i’ll ask you later, when there’s no one else here. i don’t want you to feel obligated or pressured into giving an answer because of people being around you,” sunghoon says under his breath, just loud enough for y/n to hear. he looks out of the corner of his eye to see her reaction but she’s surprisingly stoic, nodding just the slightest before jumping back into the conversation.

the little exchange goes unnoticed by jay and soojin but heeseung makes eye contact with sunghoon and tilts his head, almost imperceptive to the untrained eye. sunghoon just blinks and heeseung is appeased. nothing serious. just want to ask her something.

sunghoon was pretty sure that as the most quiet members of the team, heeseung and sunghoon could conduct entire conversations without a single word.

sunghoon had picked that up from eunwoo and heeseung was just…heeseung.

the conversation is interrupted when the zeta tubes announce the presence of the missing team members, jake and yujin.

they hear jake and yujin conversing in low tones before joining the group, setting down their duffel bags (team gear) and backpacks (school gear) before taking a seat on the loveseat opposite sunghoon and y/n.

heeseung looks around the room, with all of the loveseats fully occupied before looking down at his armchair, a soft laugh escaping his lips. and so he was in the armchair. alone. while the loveseats were occupied with duos and couples. huh.

“how is everyone doing today?” yujin asks, breaking the silence that had fallen over the group.

“good! oh, you guys need to try y/n’s cooking - she made dinner and it’s absolutely heavenly,” soojin says, ushering jake and yujin into the kitchen. jake and jay follow her (the latter most definitely going for another helping) but yujin stops when she reaches where y/n is sitting, extending her hand to clasp y/n’s gently.

“hope you’re adjusting well?” she asks and y/n nods, honey practically dripping from her eyes.

“yeah. jay and soojin have been really welcoming. and sunghoon! and heeseung, of course,” y/n adds the last two names hurriedly, bowing her head at the two men. “everyone has been really kind.”

“that’s good to hear,” yujin says with a soft grin before her gaze shifts to sunghoon. “captain? i think that we’ve got a few things that we need to discuss.”

she looks down at where y/n is still holding her hand and reluctantly lets go. “and i think that y/n should be there too. classification omega.”

sunghoon is taken aback. the events of the yacht bridge and chemical factory were strange, most definitely, but he’d expected something along the lines of arkham asylum’s inmates staging some level of a robbery. something more novel. classification IV, at most.

classification omega? that really only meant sunghoon, yujin, and heeseung could be in attendance. not that they couldn’t trust the rest of the team but classification levels were more based on just how much members were willing to give for the team. classification levels were more for the safety of the members, rather than anything else.

so information at that classification level made sunghoon worry but yujin’s expression seems more puzzled than grim so sunghoon just nods, offering y/n an appeasing smile when she looks between the three of them, searching for answers.

“i’ll explain when we get a chance to talk,” yujin says, her gaze fixed on y/n and it’s obvious that the words are meant to put y/n at ease, rather than offer any hints to either of them about what she could’ve possibly discovered in gotham. it seems to work when y/n’s shoulder descend from their tensed state just the slightest.

the other three return, with jake holding an extra plate of dinner for yujin as well and the air in the room turns lighthearted once more. both yujin and y/n seem to turn off the serious mindset they were simmering in as if it were a light switch. but sunghoon is unable to take his mind off of yujin’s words.

his questions are answered even without an explanation when he hears y/n scream just twenty-six minutes later.

[march 19, 20XX, 8:26 p.m.]

[belle rêve prison]

“you heard what?” one of the inmates asks incredulously. icicle sr. shivers, almost as if a chill had run down his spine, and shakes his head, suppressing any sign of fear as he restates what he’d heard that night.

belle rêve prison wasn’t exactly known for its hospitality but there were very few conditions when it came to cold weather that startled icicle sr. - but the reason why it felt as though there was a cold air in the room had nothing to do with temperature.

“i heard the canary scream. cry. whatever those justice freaks call it. but when we got to ace chemical factory, there was nothing there. no canary, nothing. not a single feather on the ground,” icicle sr. grinds out, and to the other inmates, it seems as though he’s angry that he had to repeat himself. but to icicle jr., his son and the newest addition to belle rêve’s top gang, he can see that the grit in his teeth is from pure, unadulterated fear.

which made icicle jr. want to piss his fucking pants.

there was very little that scared his father. so if it scared his father, it sure as hell scared him.

“you heard the cry but you didn’t see the bird?” another inmates says with a cocky expression. his words don’t carry the pomp he tries to convey them with since his voice trembles a bit too much to take him seriously.

“she’s not usually in gotham unless there’s a fight to pick with someone,” another inmate points out. icicle sr. is silent as the prison cafeteria breaks out into a cacophony of different people trying to give their input on what exactly had happened for black canary to appear in gotham all of a sudden.

“dad? you’re kinda quiet,” icicle jr. says and his father side-eyes for a long moment before shaking his head.

“it’s not her. it can’t be her.”

“why?”

“because…it wasn’t her voice. not that voice means anything when that goddamn scream is so loud. but it’s just not her. i know that.”

which meant that there was someone else in gotham who could utilize the canary cry.

[march 19, 20XX, 8:26 p.m.]

[mount justice, happy harbor, rhode island]

sunghoon and yujin burst into a sprint the moment they can. that is, the moment that y/n stops screaming. sunghoon’s thoughts are all over the place as he tries to recon what had just happened.

the team had dispersed into different locations after dinner. jay and soojin had decided to leave mount justice to catch a late night movie while jake had with them when yujin broke the news that some of their findings were classification omega. he’d sulked at first (mostly about having to part from yujin again) but jay had enticed him into coming with them with promises of buying popcorn at the movie theater - as though they hadn’t just had three servings of dinner.

it was just yujin and sunghoon standing in the kitchen while heeseung went to make a call to a friend from atlantis (sunghoon had no clue that atlantis had cellphone reception). the two of them were silent, even though there were many words that had to be shared. it was as though neither of them knew how to share them and they were stuck in a standstill as they waited for y/n to return from the restroom for a quick shower and heeseung from his phone call.

sunghoon had just turned to yujin to ask her what she had found when an ear-piercing scream erupts from where the restroom across y/n’s room was. sunghoon and yujin both stumbled backwards, trying to regain their balance before setting off into a sprint, too many questions in their minds to think straight.

which brought sunghoon to the current moment, where y/n was standing next to her bed, clutching something shiny in her hands, wolf beside her, curled up into a ball of guilt and shame, his ears drooping as he looked up at the grief-stricken y/n.

her lips were still shaped as an ‘o’ as though she wanted to scream but she couldn’t find it within her to do so.

it takes less than three seconds for sunghoon to understand the situation: a) wolf had broken into her room while y/n was showering and had unknowingly destroyed something valuable to her. b) she possessed something valuable to her; something from the other dimension. c) she also had the canary cry - something that sunghoon had never heard of anyone else having besides black canary. d) the glass filled with water on her nightstand had shattered to pieces.

e) y/n faust was in gotham the night of the yacht bridge and ace chemical factory break ins.

what the hell were they going to do now?

#jnnul #sunghoon fic #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen #park sunghoon #enhypen fluff #sunghoon imagines

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arkiwii · 1 year ago

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Kristen Arknights is giving me brainworms this cannot continue

Before Lone Trail, I was really convinced that "ah yeah so she's really evil", like what, she approved and conducted the Diabolic Experiment? She approved the experiment at Site #359 and was probably looking at the giant Hub from her window, presumably while eating popcorns, and when Saria arrived to scream at her "WHAT THE FUCK" Kristen just replied "Oh hey I knew you would solve it"? She also funded Loken's Watertank and collected his data on children experiments after he got arrested??

Any sane person would be calling her an egoist, a betrayer, a seeker, a loner

And yet, she was a pioneer.

Lone Trail dropped and now, I don't even know what to think anymore of this character. Like I don't approve what she has done, but also, I don't hate her. She put me into a state of mind I can't think straight anymore. This dog is TRULY fucked up.

She was obsessed, truly obsessed by her dream. She wanted to achieve what her parents had failed to do. She wanted to honor her family, to prove something to the world. To find the truth. To break the sky.

And she fucking did it. She absolutely did. She achieved it, she had done what nobody has ever done before. Regardless of the methods, regardless of morals and ethics, what she did was HUGE. That night, everyone on Terra looked up at the sky. She made a huge step forward, she revolutioned and changed things. The moment she pierced the starpod, a page in the history of the world had been turned, a new era has started. This event was major. And countless scientists will look up upon her, and for ages, her name will be praised.

And she did at what cost? Everything. Her own life, her friends.

I can't stop thinking about how much she tried to keep Saria away from her. I thought that Kristen was using Saria, that she didn't care about her, but actually it's... Something else. She does care about Saria, but it's Saria who was completely obsessed with Kristen. It's Saria who refused to let go. Of course, Saria devoted her life to protect Kristen, she wanted to stay with her until the very end. Kristen did not wanted it, she wanted Saria to continue to live on. It's her dream, and she's ready to die to achieve it. Not Saria's. Nor Muelsyse's.

I can't stop thinking about how she tried EVERYTHING to stop Saria. She studied her Arts, found ways to supress them, created Power Armors to neutralize them, she showed coldness to Saria to keep her away. But god, Saria was clingy as hell. If Kristen had to get to install a trap door in her spaceship SPECIFICALLY for Saria, that's to say how much Saria did not want to let go.

Saria was ready to die for Kristen, she was ready to stay with her until the very end. But Kristen always had in mind to go alone.

And in the end, she had to show Saria that she deserves to live, to continue, that there's still people who need her. Rhine Lab needs her. Ifrit needs her. Silence needs her. Rhodes Island needs her. She can't join Kristen like that. She can't die yet.

Even if Kristen was obsessed by her dream, she was still able to care enough for Saria and the people around her.

And god fucking damn I'm crying

Kristen is absolutely the best antagonist of all Arknights there's absolutely no way we can't do better, I'm standing on my ground

#I'm just throwing away my thoughts because I need to let them go #if you remember my post before about what I think of Saria and Kristen's relationship #I was very wrong #I really thought it was abusive/toxic #but actually it's SO complex #Jesus I wanna analyze this woman with a microscope #there's no cure for her #I'M BARKING AND SCREAMING #she said “oh yeah sciences requiees sacrifices ?”#“aight imma be this sacrifice then”#GOD SHE FUCKING DID IT #Lone Trail has been out for a week and I am still crying about it send tweet #arknights #help me

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yippeeometer · 6 months ago

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itty bitty little northeast hcs bc the asks r dry :(((

they are NOT fun cool life of the party they are SAD GAY LOSERS i do feel this should be broadcast on national tv to confirm the canonness.

that being said. one family dinner with them is actually illegal under the geneva convention due to high level of mental torture.

things start off lovely. they go to maine's little cabin-in-the-woods (STEPHEN KING MY FRIENDS, ITS NOT COTTAGE VIBES!). he will make you wait outside if you are late. he locks the doors and laughs.

unfortuantely, they will not be within five feet of each other during baseball season, under a rule so important gov considers adding it to the constitution.

it is like a grandpa convention lets not lie to ourselves bc there's definitely a part in the night where they just reminisce about the war and vermont will show up with printed-out pictures of some battle monument model he made bc even maine's terrible signal wont stop him.

they have to get new york there by physical force, bc he is doing his level best to sneak his way out. sorry its shabbat (it's actually a tuesday). sorry lost my voice can't come (he's only over said 10 words max). sorry been hit by a car (typa guy to genuinely try and walk off a broken leg).

they have to battle not to bring up politics ooohhh because you know mass's eye is twitching at the thought of being able to debate. connecticut threatens to report him to the authorities as a communist threat. he threatens to throw him through the wall. this is normal sibling behaviour.

typa emotional repression where they'll just be arguing and bickering as normal when one of them will drop the most gut-wrenching sickening personal lore and they all will just refuse to mention it.

oooooohhh yk its got a kick to it when ur sat across from someone who literally took bllets for you telling you ab how life is collapsing around them. anyways new hammy made a salad w craisins and we better switch the topic to that.

speaking of. half of the food is completely inedible. rhode island spent so many years a pirate he has no idea how much salt is too much salt. you CAN eat delaware's food but also be aware he's known for chemical manufacturing so its a 50/50 chance you'll make it.

jersey and york, arguably the only two good cooks, are not allowed to bring food bc they unfortunately suffer from chronic cant-understand-our-families-r-from-different-italian-regions-and-food-might-be-different syndrome.

for some inexplicable reason PA becomes group DJ. the only songs on his phone are 'brand new city' by mitski and 'dont stop the party' by pitbull.

#wttt #welcome to the statehouse #wttsh #wttt headcanons #wttt new york #wttt pennsylvania #wttt massachusetts #wttt maine #wttt delaware #wttt new jersey #wttt new hampshire #wttt vermont #wttt connecticut #wttt rhode island

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lanymme · 4 months ago

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hiiiiiiii I forgot you had fic recs open can I ask for

right this was why I hadn't sent one in yet

how about red and cutter doing something extremely unsafe with knives (horny)

for you, fox, it would be my pleasure.

CW: knives, blood, the managing-cPTSD-struggle.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Every day, at all times, Cutter makes the decision to keep their life from flying apart.

On a mission, always follow the code. At home, always eat meals at 0700, 1200, and 1900, and go to bed before 2400.

Make proactive choices. Keep the chaos out.

It’s uncomfortable, being okay. The violence, the fear, the uncertainty where they grew up was carved too deep into them to ever be fully excised.

It’s hell. It’s home.

Performing their teacher’s katas, long naps in the sun, the feel of their well-worn pendant are nice. But a traitorous part of them craves the certainty, the comfort, of uncertainty. Discomfort. Wants to make their life, the outside world, match the inside, so that the things they feel make sense. Every day, they tell it “no.” It’s not so hard as it has been, but you have to keep it up, if you want to keep living.

Right now, they’re following the rules of the field. Don’t involve innocents. Compensate others for the loss of any property and goods. Don’t go anywhere without the weapon. The dark forests of Leithanien remind them of the Columbia of their youth. They worry at their pendant with their thumb and forefinger. It’s smooth, well-worn, in the place where they touch it to soothe. Their group of about ten treks through the woods together.

“Everybody, stay close,” their local liaison says. It’s been a long couple of weeks. They’re almost done with the mission. “There’s been sightings of Infected beasts in the area recently, and this is a hotspot for tuskbeast runs. If you—“

A crossbow bolt tears out his throat, a battlecry thunders as assailants crash through the brush towards them, and Cutter’s blades and knives come out. They breathe out a sigh of tension, as the wild beat of combat fills their blood. Their vision narrows and their body moves on its own, stepping out to cut down an assailant and secure an exit route.

All of a sudden, they’re home. Everything makes sense. Mercifully, cruelly, it all slides into place.

—

The Doctor sighs. Cutter sits very still.

“Good work making it back,” they say, androgynous voice dry and calm. “you made the best of the situation you found yourself in. And you still finished the mission. That’s the most we can ask from a Rhodes Island operator.”

Cutter nods.

“Thank you for the report.” The Doctor sets down their tablet and stands, walking across their office. “Officially, you’re dismissed.”

Cutter stands as well.

The Doctor pauses. “I’m planning to schedule a session at the Convalescence Garden. Would you like me to put in a word for you with Perfumer, while I’m at it?”

No. “Yes. And,” they close their eyes, gathering their willpower, forcing themself to continue, “with Miss Honeyberry, as well.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

They made it back to the landship, but the battle certainly isn’t over.

—

It’s 1855. Cutter wants to hide in their room, so they make their way mechanically toward the mess hall instead.

Make proactive choices. They’re exhausted. Their hands are clammy, their pendant taken off their neck and held in one of their hands where they spin it over and over with their fingers and the heel of their hand.

They nod to Medic on the way, who waves back at them, but they take a circuitous route toward the hall, and they don’t see anyone else.

It’s edging against breaking one of the rules, but they’re still going to the mess hall, so it counts.

The peripheral halls are darker, less polished. The shielding isn’t as strong, so you can hear the humming of Rhodes Island more clearly, and it’s nice to drown out your thoughts. They can just listen to the sound of the ship, and walk forward, and worry at the pendant in their hand.

“cutter is okay.” The question comes from behind them.

They stop short. A moment later, they nod. “Yeah. I made it back again.”

They turn around. Red is standing there, expressionless, slightly hunched, fiddling with the sleeve of her jacket. Red’s eyes squint briefly. Above her, one of the ceiling tiles is out of place.

They missed her so much.

“cutter will see red again later.” She asserts flatly. There is a knife in her hands, now, like it’s always been there, and she worries at it with her strong fingers, twisting and spinning it.

The knife disappears, and she continues to stare at Cutter with those piercing, flat eyes. “if cutter is quick enough.”

Cutters breaths start to come a little short, a little fast.

“Okay, Red, I’ll… yes.” They swallow.

Red makes a little “mhh.” sound, eyes squinting. Then she springs up, into the ceiling, kicking and pulling and slipping her way back through the displaced tile and into the rafters without making any sound. A moment later, it slowly slides shut.

—

Cutter passes a hand across their face as they walk out of the quiet mess hall.

Exhausting. Exhausted. Keeping it together is hard, it’s hard.

They trudge through the halls, and stifle a yawn.

It’s a little late. Gathering the energy to put their tray away and stand up took so much energy, so much time. It’s so long to their room, and they made plans with Red, and it’s already almost 2400. Ahhh, it would be so much easier to let things fall apart. Stay up until 0500. Cancel their meeting with Perfumer tomorrow, and just…

Something pokes them in the lower back. Something sharp.

“cutter didn’t see red. distracted.”

All the air goes out of their chest, all the blood out of their face.

“I—“

The knife pokes them harder, sharp, sharp, painful, just short of breaking the skin, aimed toward their kidney.

The breath hisses out of them impotently.

Their heartbeat roars in their ears, their vision goes grey, and they throb, throb, shiver.

“cutter’s bedtime. going home.” The knife trails slowly up their back, as they stand, frozen. It hovers at their shoulderblade, and they stand, rapt, unable to move, ears flattened, fixed backwards. Then it trails up, up, over. Red presses up against their back.

A bead of sweat slides down their neck.

The knife slides slowly, slowly, edge-first in front of their throat.

Their eyes start to flicker. They can’t stop trembling.

“cutter will do this. yes.” Red’s voice tickles against the inner fluff of their ear.

“Y-yesss.”

“Mhh.”

Red bumps her head gently against their back, and it pushes them forward with a sting against the knife at their throat, and they hear themself whine from somewhere far away.

They feel a trickle down their throat and their thigh at their same time.

Each breath whimpers slightly, involuntarily, like a trapped musbeast.

Red pulls away, and then they’re alone in the hall again.

Mercifully, blissfully, there’s only one thought left in their head. Everything else has been taken out of their hands.

They feel light, so light, finally, for once.

A moment later, they start off on shaky legs down the hallway, through the landship, toward their new home.

#arknights #projekt red #cutter #ficlet requests #request fill #my writing #posting #(smut will probs occur once I pretty this up for AO3)#knife kink

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abcwordsurge · 7 months ago

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hi bee my buddy bee! can you kinassign ninjago characters to some wttt characters? like which character is like who. i havent watched ninjago since i was a little kid,, so i cant remember much but id love you to tell me about it :^]

the absolute delight I felt when I saw this ask was incredible. I had a long car drive this afternoon (well, as of the time of posting, yesterday) and thinking about this ask was the perfect way to spend it. of course, now it's time to write down all those thoughts. this is going to get LONG. (if you want to hear about ninjago, then, heh, you came to the right place.) I'll put it all under a cut. first, though, you are absolutely wonderful and thank you so much for this ask :]

gonna go in order of when I thought of them. which means, first up is my favorite ninja!

Nya - Rhode Island

the most obvious reason for this connection is the mutual hot headedness. they are both so quick to anger, and both tend to hold grudges for far longer than is normal.

but it's more than that. both of them feel an urge to compensate for what they perceive as a disadvantage. for Rhodey, of course, it's his height. (he is, as always, very self conscious about his height.) for Nya, it's her gender. I mean, she spent four seasons being excluded from the other ninja for her gender, and for plenty of the other seasons, she was still pushed to the sidelines. of course she has a little bit of internalized misogyny. (side note- I do think that's why she seems so determined to not enjoy traditionally "feminine" things. because she thinks it makes her weak. I'd actually love to write a fic where she goes on a girl's day out with Pixal and Skylor and learns to respect feminity and start dealing with her internalized misogyny. but anyway.)

last thing for this duo: Nya is, of course, the master of water, and Rhodey is the ocean state. it's just perfect

Kai - Ohio

the best description I've ever seen of Kai was something along the lines of "he's not hot headed so much as he is reckless and in a bit of a rush." Ohio is much the same. he's called the Florida of the midwest, but he can't quite reach the levels of chaos that Florida sets. he's just... reckless and in a bit of a rush.

beyond that, both of them are definitely comic relief sorts of characters. both are goofy and a little airheaded, and both are pretty intense in a very amusing way. still, both are very friendly and like to be around people (even if they tend to be somewhat overbearing, and tease people more than they might like)

and I would be remiss not to mention their mutual pyromania. that's half the reason I thought of them as a duo so quickly.

Cole - Loui

this one's pretty straightforward. they're both very relaxed and down to earth (cough cough master of earth cough). they're both loyal to a fault. although reasonable on their own, if they have the right partner, they can be quite chaotic. for Loui, that partner would be, of course, Florida. for Cole, it could really be any of the other ninja in the right circumstances- but the first to come to mind is Jay. (or maybe Kai. it depends.)

they also both love food. for Loui, this manifests more as making and sharing food. for Cole, it's more so... eating food. (he has tried, countless times, to cook for his friends, but it never goes well. Zane has all but banned him from the kitchen.)

Faith - New York

interestingly enough, this is the only pair on this list where I thought of the state first, then came up with a connecting ninjago character. now, Faith is a very minor character, so just so you know, she's a dragon hunter in season nine.

she and York both have massive anger issues, and tend to take them out physically (either by yelling / making general sounds of annoyance, or by kicking things around). they're both quite gruff, pretty no nonsense, don't take crap, etc. neither of them are very friendly, but they're competent, and useful to have around. good people at heart, but it takes a while to get to that heart.

Harumi - Nevada

this started as "they're both attractive and they know it." both absolutely have the potential to be villains. it's realized for Harumi, but for Nevada it's more of a theoretical "what if they got bitter at their unfair treatment and to 'fix' things they burned down the entire nation." they're both good actors, and good liars.

the biggest reason I kinassigned them, though, is because in the end, they'd both follow orders. for Harumi, this happens in season fifteen. she always seems to end up in a spot where her freedom is dependent upon doing what's told of her. as for Nevada, well. we've seen it in their joining the table video. they literally have to do what Gov says.

Jay - Cali

both of them will talk your ear off if given the chance. I feel like both tend to feel like outsiders, both are desperate to be liked and feel like part of the team, and both are kinda losers (/aff).

Jay is very quick to share what he's feeling, and his attitude is very much "if I think it, you hear it." Cali is this way too, in a sense, though usually it's more facts and correcting other people for Cali. but the main point is that they're both certified yappers.

Pixal - Iowa

I absolutely love both of these characters, and both of them are very underrated. they both tend to blur into the background, and they're far too easy to ignore. (which makes sense for Iowa, since there are fifth states and Ben can't exactly give all of them all of his attention, but Pixal? come on, ninjago writers, you can at least pretend to care about her existence.)

however, when they do show up, both of them are genuinely very nice, both are dedicated and detail-oriented, and if given the chance, both can be quite sassy. ("every part of me is annoyed!" is a Pixal line that lives in my head rent free. I love her.)

Wyldfyre - Massachusetts

when I started this list, I told myself, "no dragons rising characters," in a useless attempt to not be writing till the sun goes down. but come on. this is just too perfect. both of them are energetic and kinda rude and very impatient, both of them are loud and obnoxious at times (/aff), and both of them are far too eager to start a war.

the real thing though? both of them care so, so much about their family. for Mass, that's the northeast (especially Maine and New York come to mind- "no one gets to kill you but me" is an iconic protective Mass quote). for Wyldfyre, that's Kai and Heatwave. (side note- Kai and Wyldfyre are The duo ever, they're so cute together. if you don't know who they are, I want to be clear, it's like a father daughter dynamic ((Wyldfyre is WAY younger than Kai)), and it's hilarious.)

Skylor - Arizona

both are hot, though with Arizona it's temperature, and with Skylor it's, well, look at her. also don't tell me Ari wouldn't have hair just like Skylor's. he would love that long red ponytail look.

also, both are very dangerous. Arizona has his rough terrain and all the animals and cacti that want to kill you, and Skylor has super op powers (they had to change the conditions of her powers in the later seasons because otherwise there wouldn't be any drama- Skylor would just win the war all by herself). however, despite what they could do to either hurt or help people, I think if given the chance, both would be totally chill and, I dunno, run a noodle shop for the rest of their life. and y'know what? love that for them.

Zane - Alaska

ok, last one, finally. I at first saw the connection between these two that they are both very cold. they're both quite reasonable and intelligent, not to mention large and basically indestructible. (has anyone counted how many times Zane has died so far? seven, maybe? and he's still kicking!)

in a bit deeper sense, though, they're both outsiders. for Alaska, this is, of course, due to geography. for Zane, it's because he's a nindroid, and despite his best efforts, he doesn't quite understand what it's like to be human. they are different in that Alaska tries to avoid the others and Zane tries to understand and be a part of the others, but nonetheless.

alright! this is far, far from a comprehensive list. I didn't do all of the characters- hell, I didn't even do all of the main characters. but that is all of the strong connections I can make between characters, and besides, I think this post is long enough haha. this was so fun to answer, thank you so much for asking this, you are incredible <3 /p

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lumberwoof · 1 year ago

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AU where Franka doesn't get approval for the transfer and instead has to cut and run to Rhodes Island alone. Liskarm just misses finding out and isn't able to follow. and then they reunite some years down the line for whatever reason, Franka happy at Rhodes Island but still a little lonely and Liskarm saying she's fine but being at Blacksteel for so long has made her colder and harsher and just plain miserable.

(it isn't all bad, she at least has Jessica and Vanilla, but they can't get under her skin the way Franka could. Liskarm swears that Franka would get under skin sometimes just to dig out the bad feelings.)

(and Franka has people. she's surrounded by people she cares about. operators cut from the same cloth as her, that will charge headlong into battle beside her. colleagues who will nag her about sleeping and eating and training and mission parameters. friends who will rag on her for her choice of reading material. but Liskarm was all of those things rolled into one. and she is not here)

#(for the purposes of this AU Vanilla and Jessica are with Liskarm at Blacksteel)#Liskarm's squad ending up on the landship for whatever reason #Liskarm seeing Franka out of the corner of her eye and just being knocked for six #their reunion would be an all out battle in an empty training room #other staff hearing about it and trying to intervene like ''what is this Blacksteel person doing to our beloved Franka''#Franka and Liskarm kick the shit out of each other but aren't able to actually talk because too many people watching #Vanilla and Jessica ''oh this is normal. this is normal! it's been 3 years but it's totally normal! don't worry!''#(it's really that trope of ''ex you still care about is doing good and you're miserable'' for Liskarm)#arknights tag #yeah I'll tag it #friskarm #if you ask me if this AU has a sad or happy ending. it has whatever ending you want #I do think Franka and Liskarm's relationship changed when they transferred to Rhodes Island together #because it was a silent admission that their partnership was no longer the result of circumstance #'we've been put together' to 'we're choosing to stick together'#so to lose that aspect of their relationship would be... interesting #also Franka has to slow down for Liskarm. Liskarm is /meant/ to curb Franka's reckless behaviour #so I like the idea that Franka at RI alone is even more reckless because she's not being properly challenged #she gels too well with some operators and it's so easy that it's terrifying #in the sense that combat becomes tunnel vision. which is not a good thing #I wrote more in the tags than the actual post..... this is normal for me

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preservationofnormalcy · 1 year ago

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My roommate, who contracted vampirism 2 years ago, is getting a bit depressed. They don't seem to want to do anything and told me they miss when they were 'alive'. I even caught them trying to open the curtain in their room midday.

I'm worried about them. I don't think they can be turned back anymore, but are there any other ways to help? Like foods that are safe for hemovores to eat, or things to keep their life from being all darkness?

This is unfortunately not uncommon in vampire populations. There are absolutely support groups - the one I'm familiar with on the east coast is Life After Life. Their headquarters is in Rhode Island, we might have a number on our UnHuman Resources page. You might not be able to talk to their chapter head Mercy Brown directly, but if you do, she's a very kind soul and has helped countless people like your roommate.

In the short term - blood sausage is commonly bandied about as something hemovores can eat with little side effects. Just no garlic, of course.

#office for the preservation of normalcy #ask #advice #vampires

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steviewashere · 9 months ago

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Our Love Ain't Compromised

Rating: General CW: Minor Vomiting/Dry Heaving (I have emetophobia so I made sure that it was minor, don't worry.) Tags: Sick Fic, Established Relationship, Married Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Future Fic, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington has Anxiety, Worried Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Sick Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Takes Care of Eddie Munson, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Medical Accuracies (Surprising, I Know, But I Actually Know Somebody Who's Had a Transplant), Mentioned Kidney Transplant

For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is being taken care of when sick/love is taking care of them when they're sick."

💕—————💕

Eddie’s immune system is shot to shit. Has been since March of 1986. When he had awoken after his little stint in the Upside Down, it was to patches of scars, a missing nipple, and a brand new kidney. Turns out, that when alternate dimension bats chew you to bits and pieces and you’re helpless against them, they bite a little further than you could imagine. The ones that attacked his torso took a little more than necessary. Though, it wasn’t what caused him to get a kidney transplant.

No, in fact, he only has a brand new kidney because his body was fighting against the skin grafts and other surgeries. His downstairs business—the bladder and one kidney—were compromised. Luckily, his bladder was able to heal. But the scarring on his left kidney was too severe to come back from.

Hence, one new kidney.

The downside to this transplant, though, came in the form of one prescription drug. The immunosuppressant. A bunch of little capsules that he takes daily; in the morning and at night. And, get this, they’re forever pills. Meaning, they follow him to the day he dies. But knowing his luck, he’ll be up there arguing with God, one palm full of pills, and a glass of water in the other.

Surgeons and doctors told him that the suppressants were going to compromise his immune system. They were going to make him more vulnerable to infections and illnesses. And he’d been mostly careful in his life so far. If he catches a cold, he stays home and rests. If somebody he knows gets sick, he stays far away.

Though, when you’re a grown adult with a husband who works around snotty children all the time, the illnesses come whether you like it or not. It started with Steve getting pretty damn sick, knocked down by the yearly flu season. Which, granted, Steve had received his vaccine—but even then, the strongest still can be K.O’d.

Steve’s sick state is…well, less than ideal. Eddie loves him to bits and pieces, but man is his husband a miserable thing when he gets ill. Like a desperate wet cat in a thunderstorm. Mewling and rolling about and picky to a fault. So, Eddie did the logical thing (admittedly, the dumbest), he took care of Steve. Hand fed him spoonfuls of soup. Draped a washcloth on his heated forehead. Changed out his puke bucket. Ran lukewarm baths and did the laundry and tucked Steve in and kissed his forehead and…ran himself dry.

The karma is Eddie gets sick now.

It’s only a few days after Steve is able to return to work. When he’s been fever free for forty-eight hours, that Eddie gets severely sick.

We’re talking many trips to the bathroom. Heat shivers like nothing else. Sweat stains and chilled bones and clicking teeth. Heavy chest and congested nose and an appetite the size of Rhode Island.

When Steve comes back from work, it’s a Friday, he comes through just in time to hear Eddie dry heave into the toilet for the—give or take—eighth time that day. Did he mention that it’s only four? Has he said that he hasn’t had anything to eat except for toast this morning, some that Steve made before he had to leave? Steve’s class starts at eight. He eats at six.

Immediately, Eddie hears the rush of heavy footsteps clamber down the hallway. Skittering into their bedroom. Practically sliding into the tiled, small bathroom. A hand carefully bunches up his hair, ties it back loosely—just enough so it’s out of the way. And another runs up and down his spine in long stripes. The t-shirt Eddie is wearing gets stuck a few times with the movement of Steve’s hand, due in part to the tacky sweat on his back, and also because Steve moves his hand anxiously. He’s an anxious guy when the people around him aren’t doing too hot.

With his last round of dry heaving, Eddie spits into the toilet bowl, reaches up and clumsily flushes the toilet, and then settles loose on the floor. Collapsed halfway on the toilet’s seat. His butt sat on his folded legs. He sighs.

“Oh, baby,” Steve coos above him. “Baby, why didn’t you say you were sick? I would’ve stayed home with you.”

Eddie’s voice is raspy and exhausted when he speaks. “Didn’t know,” he says, “started after you left.” A chill runs up his arms and he full body shivers with it. “Was gonna call, but I knew you were excited to see your kiddos again.” He shrugs. “I can manage for a few hours.”

“Yeah, but you’re miserable,” Steve relays, as if Eddie wasn’t aware. He’s very much aware. Too aware, actually. But he lets Steve make a fuss. “Okay, uh, okay plan. I’ll run a bath for you and I’ll—I’ll, fuck, I’ll make you that chicken broth that you like. And I can change out our bedding while you relax in the tub and I can—“ He stops to swallow. His hands flap at his side. Steve never does well when Eddie gets sick, he immediately goes high strung and scrambled.

With a weak hand, Eddie reaches out and soothes his palm down Steve’s calve. “Honey,” he whispers, coaxing. Steve’s breath is heavy, yet short. And his eyes are darting when they finally look at Eddie. “Honey,” he repeats. “It doesn’t help me when you get worked up. One step at a time, alright?”

“Right,” Steve mutters shortly, “right, you’re right.” He flutters out of Eddie’s space. Instead, he leaves the room. Eddie hears him shuffling about their bedroom, changing the sheets. And then he retreats back into the hallway, to the linen closet for a towel. (Eddie knows him a little too well some days. Especially on high strung days.) Then, he’s back in the bathroom with new clothes and a towel. Just in time for Eddie to be up off the floor, a cup of mouthwash swirling around his tongue. Steve’s talking a mile a minute when he comes back in. “Okay, so I got clothes and a towel. And my phone is on the charger so that I can call your doctor just in case things get really bad. And I—Honestly, I already texted him and he said to just take a couple tablets of Zofran for the nausea. Also, I checked the fridge while I was putting away my shoes—I forgot to take them off, sorry about the little bit of mud by the door—but I couldn’t find any of the bay leaves for that broth. So, I hope it’s okay that the chicken broth is a little bland. Actually—“

He spits out the mouthwash, holding back his laughter. Eddie’s not sure if the rambling is something Steve picked up from Robin or if it’s something associated with his anxiety. Honestly, if he allows himself to think about it, it’s probably a bit of both. But he watches Steve leave the room again. His mutterings about the space are loud to his ears.

“—God, we have like no seasonings,” is what Eddie picks up on when he exits the bathroom. Steve continues, “And the pot I need is in the sink. I’ll do the dishes and then I’ll make the broth and…Well, no, if I make the broth in the smaller pot, then he can eat while I clean. But what if he needs me while he’s eating? I can’t be in a different room when he needs me. What if he gets sick on the couch while I’m cleaning and I don’t hear him and then he’s too tired to clean himself up and then he’s just sitting there and then—“

“Steve,” Eddie calls from the kitchen entryway. He’s stood still in front of the open pantry door. Hands nervous at his sides. Eddie’s never actually been a witness to the rambling before. It’s usually that Steve stays stuck in place, eyes far away, head full of a thousand thoughts that he needs Eddie’s help to parse through. The thoughts don’t typically all leave his mouth at once, though. It’s a little bit concerning. “Baby, I need you to calm down. How about you draw me a bath? Help me wash my hair, because I think I got a little bit of puke in the ends. And then, we can order Chinese food or something? I’ll just get plain white rice.”

Instead of saying anything, Steve nods. Eyes not exactly far, but still somewhere distant. Yet, he crosses the room anyway. A hand to Eddie’s forehead. The other on his chest. Then, he mutters, “You’re burning up. Let me grab the Tylenol.”

“I already took some, Stevie,” Eddie says. “I just need you to run me a bath, please.” He reaches up for the palm on his chest, squeezes, and holds tight to it as he drags them back to the bathroom. Without much prompt, Eddie slips out of his dirty, sweaty clothes. And with a silent demeanor, unusual for somebody like him, gazes on as Steve patters about—bending over to turn the knob to warm, going to the sink’s cabinet for the bottle of lavender soap, reaching up on the shower shelf for the hair products. And for the first time since Steve got home, he goes completely quiet, now sitting on the lip of the tub, hands out in silent offering for Eddie’s. Which he takes with a soft hold and allows himself to be maneuvered into the water.

He lets Steve pour a cup of water over his hair. A hand settled on the side of his neck. Washcloth on his forehead. Eddie relaxes into Steve’s gentle touches, for once today, the idea of being sick dissipates from his mind.

It’s not even ten minutes into the bath that Steve speaks up again.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

Eddie opens his eyes, not even realizing that he closed them. Steve’s hands just feel that good. “Why are you sorry?” He asks genuinely.

Steve shrugs. “For getting all overbearing and whatever. It’s hard to—“ Sometimes, it’s difficult for Steve to find his words, the emotions. Always has been a bit of a thing for him, but Eddie never minds. In fact, he kind of adores watching Steve work his way through his thoughts, actively seeing in real time as the sensations click for him. “—It’s hard to see you sick. Especially when I know that it’s because of my bug that I had. And, you know, considering the bullshit back in Hawkins.”

“Hey,” Eddie says softly, “don’t say it like it’s exclusively your fault.” He rests his left hand over Steve’s own. His skin is soft under Eddie’s palm. The heat radiating from him is grounding. “I made the decision to help you. And it wasn’t something you just decided to bring home from work. It’s okay. Just the flu,” he tries to reassure.

“But what if you get sicker than I did? Like…So sick that we have to take you to the hospital and then you’re there for several days and the bed is empty of you and I—“

“Stevie,” he cuts in. “Honey, you need to breathe for me, alright? I’m right here. And, yes, I’m sick and miserable. But it’s just the flu. I know what it is, you know what it is.” He takes a deep breath, it mingles with Steve’s own stuttered inhale. “If something happens, we contact my doctor. Remember why I get sick easily, baby. It’s just the suppressants doing their job, nothing else. We’ll be alright.”

Steve nods, going completely quiet. Almost still with it.

“What’s on your mind, baby?” Eddie questions.

“I—Do you even like it when I’m the one taking care of you? Like I get when Wayne does because he’s all calm and collected about it, but.”

Eddie soothes his hand up to Steve’s left forearm. Fingers tapping, waiting for Steve to completely look at him. When they lock eyes, he states firm yet soft, “I love it when you take care of me. You make sure I have and get everything I need. There’s nobody else that I’d rather have here with me.”

“Even when I can’t shut up about what needs to happen? Even when my brain goes a mile a minute because I’m just…scared?”

He nods subtly. “Yeah, sweetheart,” he whisper-rasps. “I feel so loved when you take care of me. Because you actually care. It’s hard for both of us when I get sick, I understand that.”

Steve nods back at him. Teeth sunken into his bottom lip. “Is it weird to say that I love taking care of you? Like it makes me feel useful to help you out?”

“Not weird, just welcomed,” Eddie assures. Because that’s the beautiful truth.

A few moments of silence lull between them. The washcloth goes a little cold against Eddie’s skin and he senses the prickling of shivers mingling under his skin. “Help me out of the tub and just lay with me in bed for now? I’m not hungry yet.” Steve bounces back into action. At the snap of fingers, ready to tend to anything Eddie needs of him.

And when they’re back in bed, Steve’s ruffled feathers finally flattened back to his body and Eddie’s fever dropping a single degree, Eddie is content. He lays on his back with Steve curled on his left side. Their legs tangled with each other. A palm heavy on his t-shirt clad stomach. Eddie’s own toying with Steve’s hair. The shirt is stuck to him from the VapoRub that Steve applied.

It’s warm in their room. Radiator on and lowly humming. Curtains closed so that it’s dark, though lit by Steve’s bedside lamp. Eddie’s got his own bucket settled on the floor, just in case. A sleeve of saltine crackers on his table. Poncho is curled up by his feet, purring incessantly, fur shifting and tickling his soles.

This treatment is one of a million reasons why he adores the man he married. “I love you, Steve. You take good care of me; you should know that,” he mutters into the soothing silence.

Instead of receiving an answer, Steve’s snore is muffled into Eddie’s shoulder. Puffing in warm bursts against his neck. He shifts his hand to press between Steve’s shoulder blades. And smiles a little to himself when Steve shuffles in impossibly closer. He feels like crap, that’s pretty hard to miss. Though, he’s comfortable. Comfortable enough that he can slip into a peaceful, syrupy, boneless sleep.

His immune system is shot to shit. But the love that fills his soul sure isn’t.

💕—————💕

#stranger things #steddie #fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #sick fic #hurt/comfort #fluff #steddielovemonth #day 21

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