#[ ☼ ] ;; WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME? I’M EMPTY; I’M EMPTY. (ask.)

[ilguna]

Hi again this is from the supply run. Could you please do #17 from aisle 1 and # 22 from aisle 2 with finnick? Thank you! 🎉 -🪐

☼ only friends (Finnick Odair) ☼

warnings; swearing, gore, blood mention, death, death mention.

wc; 5.7k

prompt; 17. denying their relationship strongly. 22. "They won't take you away from me ever again."

—

“Tomorrow morning, when we pull Katniss Everdeen’s body from the ashes, we will see exactly who the Mockingjay is. A dead girl who could save no one, not even herself.” Snow’s voice is haunting as he gives the final word. The Capitol seal replaces his face, the anthem plays, and the television shuts off.

“Except that you won’t find her.” Finnick says to the empty screen, turning his head to glance at you.

The Peacekeeper’s that will be sent to retrieve the bodies tomorrow will be missing twelve of them, actually. All they’ll come across is Boggs and one of the Leeg sisters. The rest of you made it out safely.

“We can get a head start on them at least.” Katniss says, pulling out the Holo. She moves closer to Jackson, listening to a set of directions on how to work the device. She manages to get the coordinates in, and a projection of the surrounding streets fills the air.

The silence is suffocating as you watch all the different colored blinking lights. No matter what direction you decide you’re going to go, there will be hundreds of pods waiting for you. And these all happened to pop up in the past couple of hours.

You look at Finnick again, and find that he’s got his eyes on you already. This trip has just gotten ten times more dangerous, and your options on travel are beginning to dwindle, quickly.

“Any ideas?” Katniss asks.

“Why don’t we start by ruling out the possibilities.” Finnick tears his eyes from yours. “The street is not a possibility.”

“The rooftops are just as bad as the street.” Leeg says.

“We still might have a chance to withdraw, go back the way we came.” Homes suggests. “But that would mean a failed mission.”

Katniss frowns briefly. “It was never intended for all of us to go forward. You just had the misfortune to be with me.”

“Well, that’s a moot point. We’re with you now. So, we can’t stay put. We can’t move up. We can’t move laterally.” Jackson shakes her head. “I think that just leaves one option.”

“Underground.” Gale agrees.

Your nose crinkles at the idea, but you force your face to smooth. Now is not a time to be picky, especially when you’re being cornered so harshly. You want to make it out of this city alive, which means you’ll do anything for it to happen.

Katniss switches the Holo to show the pods beneath the surface. While it appears that there’s not nearly as much pods underground, the sewers are going to be harder to navigate. The streets are straightforward, the sewer is full of twisting and turning tunnels. It’s a mess.

With no other option, it’s decided.

“Okay, then. Let’s make it look like we’ve never been here.” Katniss says.

You all get to your feet, picking up empty cans to send down the trash chute, while packing the full ones into your bag. The others flip the couch cushions over to hide the blood, wipe the tracks of black oil from the tile, and lock the second bolt on the door from keeping it from looking like the door got kicked in.

Peeta sits on the blue sofa. “I’m not going. I’ll either disclose your position or hurt someone else.”

“Snow’s people will find you.” Finnick tells him, you stop next to him, crossing your arms.

“Then leave me a pill. I’ll only take it if I have to.”

“That’s not an option. Come along.” Jackson says.

“Or you’ll what? Shoot me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Peeta.” You say.

“We’ll knock you out and drag you with us.” Homes says. “Which will both slow us down and endanger us.”

“Stop being noble! I don’t care if I die!” He shouts, proceeding to turn to Katniss. “Katniss, please. Don’t you see, I want to be out of this?”

Katniss stares at him for a long moment. “We’re wasting time. Are you coming voluntarily or do we knock you out?”

Peeta takes in a breath, burying his face in his hands, letting out a long sigh. He then gets to his feet to join you.

“Should we free his hands?” Leeg asks.

“No!” Peeta snarls, pulling the cuffs closer to his body.

“No.” Katniss agrees. “But I want the key.” Jackson pulls it out, handing it over to Katniss, who slips it into a pocket in her pants.

With this decided, you all begin to head for the maintenance shaft that you have to enter through the back closet on the upper floor. From there, two doors down, a vertical tube connects the row of apartments to the tunnels below. When Homes opens the small metal door to the shaft, it’s clear that the shells Castor and Pollux are wearing will not fit.

They shed them, stashing the shells in the closet, because that’s the only option they have. Castor and Pollux settle on using their emergency cameras, which are roughly the size of a shoebox.

You let them go in through first, motioning for Finnick to go next. He does the same, the two of you stare at each other for a long second. “Come on, Finnick.”

“I’m not letting you take up the rear.” He tells you.

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Which is why you’ll be going first.” He raises his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes, shedding your backpack to drag next to you while you shuffle through the tight space. You sidestep past the first apartment, and join the others in the second one, where they’ve already begun to crowd around the tube to the tunnels.

Messalla frowns at the circular cover behind the utility door. “It’s why no one ever wants the center unit. Workmen coming and going whenever and no second bath. But the rent’s considerably cheaper.” He mutters, when he looks up and sees the way you and Finnick are looking at him, he adds, “Never mind.”

The cover opens easily, there’s a wide ladder with rubber treads on the steps to allow quick movement up and down. You don’t bother to argue with Finnick about this one, sliding down the ladder, gathering at the bottom.

It’s terribly dark down here, even with the strip of dim lights. You wait for your eyes to adjust, while being forced to breathe in the smell down here. A sickening mixture between chemicals, mildew and sewage.

“Are you alright?” Finnick asks, moving a hair out of your face. “You look like you’re going to puke.”

“It’s the smell.” You rub your nose.

Pollux is pale, sweat running down the side of his forehead. He grabs onto Castor, holding on with white knuckles.

“My brother worked down here after he became an Avox.” Castor says. “Took five years before we were able to buy his way up to ground level. Didn’t see the sun once.”

It’s quiet between you all, no one knowing how to respond to something so horrid. You couldn’t imagine being forced down here for an extended period of time. You would go crazy. You’d break out and run and get yourself killed because you’re so desperate to see the sky.

“Well, then you just became our most valuable asset.” Peeta says, turning to Pollux. Castor laughs, and Pollux manages to smile.

Pollux leads the way down the first tunnel, you and Finnick walk side by side in the very back, behind Jackson and Gale, who are watching over Peeta like hawks. He doesn’t seem to care, hunched over, watching the ground. 

It turns out that there’s a network of wide tunnels that corresponds to the main street plan above. They call it the Transfer, because small trucks use it to deliver goods around the city. The pods are deactivated during the day, but at night it’s a different story. It’s as bad as the ground above. 

Pollux knows details that would be dangerous for a newcomer. The tunnels hold hundreds of additional passages, utility shafts, train tracks and drainage tubes that work together to form a multilevel maze. Some offshoots might require gas masks, have live wires, or rats the size of beavers.

He'll alert the gush of water that sweeps through the sewers like clockwork, and anticipates when the Avoxes will be changing shifts. He even brings you into damp, obscure pipes to hide from almost silent cargo trains. And most importantly, he has knowledge of the cameras. There aren't many down here, except in the transfer.

You make remarkable time, compared to when you’d been traveling above. Still, after six hours, everyone is tired and irritated. It’s three in the morning, when Katniss suggests to rest. Pollux leads everyone into a small, warm room that hums with machines. He holds up his fingers to tell you that you must be gone in four hours.

Jackson works out a guard schedule, one that has you take watch right in the middle. You grit your teeth, unhappy because you won’t be getting much sleep after all, but Finnick objects and tells her that he’ll work your shift, and his.

“Stop it.” You whisper to him. “You need to sleep too.”

“I feel fine.” Finnick looks at you. “You can’t think straight when you’re tired.”

You narrow your eyes. “Yeah? And you become a walking hazard.”

“I’m not arguing with you.” He laughs. “Just be grateful I’m your best friend and go to sleep.”

You press your lips together, tilting your head back to rest against the wall. It’s not very comfortable, you adjust several times, until Finnick pushes your head to rest on his shoulder. You let out a snort, and he shushes you.

It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, but it’s too easy to wake you. Finnick slides out from where he’d been sitting next to you, and you can’t fall back asleep. He sits next to Pollux, watching the opening you came from. You watch him quietly with tired eyes. 

“Are you okay?” Finnick murmurs to Pollux.

He nods, waving away Finnick’s concern with a hand. And then, he motions to you and Finnick, and signs the word ‘date’. You can see Finnick begin to turn his head in your direction, so you close your eyes and fight the smile that wants to come across your face.

It was only a matter of time before he asked, Cressida already did yesterday. She watched Finnick give you a hand down after doing a propo with Katniss. He made a joke, you crinkled your nose at him in response, and he told you that he thought it was cute when you did that.

Cressida had bumped your shoulder a few minutes later, and asked if you and Finnick were dating, or if there was anything between you two. You had to tell her that you and Finnick are only friends. You’ve known each other since high school, which was a decade ago. If either of you had feelings, then it’d be obvious.

You’re used to the assumptions by now, that’s why you’re not bothered by it, and you find it funny.

“No, we’re not dating.” Finnick says, you peek your eyes open to see Pollux blink in surprise, and begin to move his hands. Finnick lets out a laugh. “Yes, I know sign, so does (Y/n). Annie, the victor that was rescued, uses sign language from time to time to communicate when she’s having trouble.”

Pollux nods, making a face, and begins to sign again. Finnick falls quiet enough for the drowsiness to wash over you. You tilt your head back to sleep.

—

“(Y/n).” Finnick shakes your shoulder. “We’ve got to go.”

You take in a breath, holding it for a second, until it erupts into a yawn. When you open your eyes, you’re met with Finnick, making sure you’re alright. You squint, rubbing your face to make yourself more awake.

“You didn’t sleep well.” Finnick says, it’s not a question.

“I woke up after you moved.” You admit, “It’s fine, I fell asleep again.”

He makes a noise, going to open his mouth to speak, when Katniss shushes the group of you. She’s got her eyes on the entrance, listening hard. For a second, all you can hear is the humming of the machines around you, and then you make out the hissing sound.

“Katniss.” 

It echoes throughout the tunnels, coming back to you, repeated over and over. Katniss is confused, glancing back at you briefly, before looking away. She jumps at the sound of her name coming from inside of the room, and lands on Peeta. She waits, slowly pulling an arrow out to put on her bow, positioning it over the sleeping Peeta.

He jerks up before she can act on her violence. His eyes are wide, head whipping in her direction, but it’s not because of the arrow pointed at him. “Katniss! Get out of here!”

Katniss lowers the bow slightly. “Why? What’s making that sound?”

“I don’t know. Only that it has to kill you.” Peeta says. “Run! Get out! Go!”

Finnick gets to his feet at the sound of that, holding his hand out for you. You let him pull you to your feet, adjusting the straps on your body until they’re comfortable again. This makes the others move as well, Katniss returns the arrow to where it came from.

“Whatever it is, it’s after me. It might be a good time to split up.” She says.

“But we’re your guard.” Jackson tells her.

“And your crew.” Cressida adds.

“I’m not leaving you.” Gale shakes his head.

Katniss looks between the eleven of you, eyes going from person to person. “Okay,” She agrees. “Finnick, give a gun to Castor. Jackson, will you eject the empty cartridge from Peeta’s and load it with a real one? And (Y/n) do you still have the other Leeg sister’s gun?”

“Yes.” You reach for it, pulling it out for her to see.

“Give it to Pollux.” She tells you. She and Gale then give up their guns, handing them over to Messalla and Cressida because they have their bows. They give a brief lesson on how to shoot the guns, which is all you can afford to do at the moment.

Everything is cleaned up and packed into backpacks, including empty cans to avoid leaving a physical trail, just a scent. When you step foot out of the room, the hissing becomes louder, coming from a fair distance behind you. Without a second thought, you go out in front of Finnick, and you can feel the weight of him grabbing onto your backpack.

You try to move quickly and quietly, but it’s nearly impossible with this many people. The sounds of your shoes splashing in water, the clang of a gun against a pipe, and Katniss giving directions. Still, you manage to cover more blocks before the screaming begins.

You go rigid.

“Avoxes.” Peeta tells you without missing a beat. “That’s what Darius sounded like when they tortured him.”

“The mutts must have found them.” Cressida murmurs.

“So they’re not just after Katniss.” Leeg says.

“They’ll probably kill anyone. It’s just that they won’t stop until they get to her.” Gale says, and he’s right.

Katniss shakes her head. “Let me go on alone. Lead them off. I’ll transfer the Holo to Jackson. The rest of you can finish the mission.”

“No one’s going to agree to that!” Jackson says.

“We’re wasting time!” Finnick whisper-shouts, leaning over your shoulder.

“Listen.” Peeta whispers.

The screams have stopped, and the hissing has resumed, much closer than it was before. Katniss nudges Pollux wordlessly, and the twelve of you begin to run through the tunnel. She opens up the Holo when you reach a staircase, scanning for another route, when she begins to gag.

“Masks on!” Jackson orders.

Katniss forces her way through a door, stumbling out onto the Transfer. She begins to move, pulling out an explosive arrow to activate the pod. The streets are pastel, smooth, easy to run on. The road is empty from deliveries as far as any of you can tell, but cameras could be at any corner.

Regardless, she sprints for the next intersection, telling you to keep close. Finnick lets go of your bag, running past you to grab a hold of her. “Katniss!”

A beacon of white light encapsulates Messalla, who is as still as a statue inside. With his head tilted back, on the ball of one foot, mouth opened wide. You watch in horror as the flesh melts off of his body.

“Can’t help him!” Peeta shoves you from behind, making you stumble a step. “Can’t!”

You begin to move again, following after him and Katniss, dodging beams of light as they come down from the ceiling. You’re sweating bullets by the time you’ve made it to the next intersection, where a spray of gunfire brings you to a stop.

Peacekeepers are running down the Transfer after you, shooting. You swing your gun up to start shooting back, because you have nowhere to go past here. This is the pod that Katniss wanted to activate first before moving on. The others begin to join you, and together, you manage to bring down a good portion of the Peacekeepers before more begin to swarm in from the door you’d just come from.

You can’t help the startled scream that leaves your mouth when you realize that these aren’t, in fact, Peacekeepers. They’re mutts. They’re naked, about the size of a human, with heads that are jutted forward, arched backs and reptilian tails. They hound the Peacekeepers, living and dead, and begin to rip helmeted heads off of shoulders.

It’s only seconds before all the Peacekeepers are decapitated, and they’re slithering toward you on their bellies.

“This way!” Katniss shouts, hugging the wall and making a sharp turn to avoid the pod. As soon as you’ve successfully cleared the pod, Katniss shoots at it. Mechanical teeth burst through the street and begin to chew the tile to dust. She turns to Pollux, you keep your eyes on where the mutts should be coming from. “Forget the mission. What’s the quickest way above ground?”

Pollux moves, going down the Transfer and through a doorway. The shiny tile turns to concrete, Finnick pushes you in front of him as you travel through a tight pipe and onto a ledge that leads you to the main sewer. 

A yard below, a nauseating brew of human waste, garbage and chemicals slide by, bubbling when it touches the wall. It’s hard to tear your eyes away from the parts of the surface that are on fire, and you can physically see the vapor that it emits.

You hurry down the path, over a narrow bridge and into an alcove on the far side. Pollux smacks a ladder with his hand and points upward. Katniss turns to look at you, and her face twists. “Wait! Where are Jackson and Leeg One?”

“They stayed at the Grinder to hold the mutts back.” Homes tells her.

“What?” She lunges toward the bridge, and Homes pulls her back.

“Don’t waste their lives, Katniss. It’s too late for them. Look!” Homes nods to the pipe, where the mutts are coming out by the dozen.

“Stand back!” Gale shouts, firing an explosive arrow into the bridge’s foundation. It snaps, bringing down a good number of mutts.

With them being so close, you’re able to see what they actually look like. Their mouths are wide, teeth sharp, smeared blood on their reptilian skin. Their clawed hands and feet have chunks of flesh stuck between them. You gag.

The mutts throw themselves into the sewage without thinking, wanting to get their hands on you. Everyone open fires, and this lasts for a good few minutes, throwing everything you have at the monsters. They don’t die easily, though. Not even with a dozen bullets in their body, which causes everyone to come to the same consensus. 

You have to run.

You have no other option, especially because of the sheer volume of them that are still coming out of the sewer pipe. Finnick tries to make a grab at you to swing you toward the ladder, but you shove him first.

He opens his mouth to speak, but doesn’t get a chance to when you point your finger and bark, “Go!”

Finnick begrudgingly grabs the ladder rungs and begins to climb up after Peeta, Cressida following directly on his trail. It’s you, Gale, Homes and Castor left at the bottom. You shoot what you can, making a big enough gap for Gale to begin to climb the ladder. When Castor goes to follow, a rogue mutt from the sewer river reaches up and grabs him. He disappears over the edge. 

“Go ahead!” Homes shouts at you, “I’ll hold them!”

You make it to the ladder, you’ve got your right foot placed on a rung, looking up to see how far you have to climb. You’re met with the sight of the Holo, falling down in your direction, projecting a bright blinking red light, and beeping like a dangerous bomb.

“No!” You scream.

Homes turns to see what’s happening, when your body slams into his, bringing the two of you to the ground. The mutts begin to pile on top of you, just as the bomb explodes.

The blast pierces your eardrums before you have a chance to cover your ears. You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling the ground shake beneath you. A shower of wet and clumped matter rains down on you. When you open your eyes, you find that the mutts on top of you are gone, and with their sacrifice, you’re still alive.

You roll over, the mutts in the surrounding area are dead. You struggle to breathe through the smoke and debris that rains down from the ceiling above, your throat and lungs already raw from breathing in the poisonous soup below. You look at Homes, shaking him to get him to move, because the ringing in your ears is so strong.

He doesn’t move. You turn his head, and it moves with no resistance. You scoot away, eyebrows twitching, heart pounding in your chest at the sight of his face, half blown away from the blast.

You struggle to get to your feet, limping over to the ladder, which is covered in the gore from the mutts. When you look up, there is no opening like there had been previously. They threw the cover over. You begin to climb quickly, and at the top, you try to swing it open. It doesn’t budge.

They locked it.

You hang off of the ladder for a moment, taking deep breaths. You have to get out of here. You’re not going to be trapped here. You go back down, and shuffle through the bodies of the mutts to stare at what’s left of the bridge that Gale decided to blow. It’s not much.

It’s possible, though. You swing your bag off of your shoulder and throw it the distance to the other side. You watch helplessly as it slides on the ledge, coming close to falling. Right when you’re sure it’s going to stop, it slips over the side, and into the sewage.

You let out a defeated sigh.

You stare at what you have to work with, and it’s virtually nothing. The bag wouldn’t have helped much, anyway. It just had food and other supplies if you managed to get stuck down here for an extended period of time. 

That won’t happen, you’ll get to the other side of the bridge. You grab a hold of Homes’ body, flipping him onto his stomach to expose the back of his vest, which is clean of blood. You carefully push him to where the bridge should be, and then walk all the way back to the ladder, where you’ll start.

You can cross the gap, the issue is slipping on the blood. That’s why, when you break out into a run, you use Homes body as a launchpad. Your stomach is in your throat the second you’re off of the ground and flying over the gap. You come into harsh contact with the cement on the other side.

You get to your feet, starting to backtrack the way you came. It’s through the tight pipe, down to the doorway until concrete turns back to cute pastel tile. It leads you back to the Transfer, where the grinding pod has stopped. You pick up a piece of broken tile to throw at it, and when it doesn’t start back up, you go through it.

There’s a sea of bodies of Peacekeeper and mutt alike. Among them, you find Jackson and Leeg, both decapitated. You start to head in the direction of where you’d come from, from here. The sight of Messalla stops you, and you turn around to go back through the grinding pod.

You begin to walk down the street of the Transfer, taking your time, occasionally throwing broken tiles in the direction you’re going in hopes that it’ll set off a pod. The familiar sound of hissing seizes your heart, making you stop dead in your tracks. You turn your body slightly, afraid to see if it’s true.

It is.

You begin to run down the Transfer, abandoning your original plan of taking your time to find a place to crawl out. You have nothing to defend yourself with. You almost took the gun off of Jackson, but you thought that you were past the mutts and you had to worry about the pods. You should’ve known better than to trust the silence.

You throw yourself at the first door you see, slamming your shoulder into it because you expect it to swing open. It’s locked, a pain begins to blossom in your shoulder, but you push through, heading further in.

Every door you run across is locked. The mutts are practically on top of you, if you slow down for even a second, it’ll surely mean your death. You don’t know how long you go on like this for, triggering pods, trying to kill what’s sent after you, getting injured because of it.

It must be an hour later when you finally see a door ajar. You throw yourself into it, right as you step off of a tile that had sunk with your weight. It explodes, launching you further into the hall. This does nothing to stop the mutts, as it went off too soon. A sharp claw scrapes your ankle, beginning to pull you toward it, when you slam your foot into its absent face.

You manage to scramble back to your feet, hurrying to the ladder that’s waiting for you at the end. You cross your fingers that this latch won’t be locked, because it’s your last chance to get out of here. You can’t go back, they’re swarming beneath you. The ladder isn’t slippery this time around, you yank yourself up in record time, reaching the top of the ladder in a matter of seconds.

You shove the cover open, pulling yourself out. When you’ve cleared the top, you slam it shut, twisting the latch to lock it. The mutts pound on it from the other side, you sit directly on top of it, gasping for air after running for your life for an hour straight.

You hold your arms out, looking at the cuts and bites you’ve received. The blood that’s on your body is more than your own, it belongs to the mutts and Homes, too. You won’t know the real damage until you’re clean, and that could be days from now.

When you feel like you can move, you get to your feet, stumbling to the next ladder that’ll surely lead you to the surface. You’re not going to run around in this tunnel looking for the others. They have to think you’re dead, which means they’ve moved on to the next place. 

Thankfully, you know where that is.

At the top of this ladder is another cover, you open it to find that you’re in a utility room, which means that you’re in someone’s apartment. You pat down all of the pockets in your pants, trying to find a weapon. You come across something solid further down your pant leg. When you pull it out, you can see that it’s Finnick’s knife.

You let out a breath of relief, flicking it open. There are times when he makes you mad when he doesn’t listen to you. Other times, it comes in handy. If you run across anyone in this building, you have only one choice.

You open the door, heading into the room quietly. You can hear the sound of a television playing a room over. You slip into the hallway that’ll lead you to the front door, stealing a glance at the bedroom to see a Capitol woman with brightly colored yellow hair and white skin laying on a bed.

You make it to the kitchen and out the front door, into a small hallway with one other door. You leave down the stairs, almost going out to the street, when you see the light pouring through the windows. You back up, shaking your head. You need a disguise if you want to go out there. You’ll be spotted in the matter of minutes, every Capitol citizen knows your name and your face.

You sigh through your nose, going back up the stairs and into the apartment you just came out of. You fix the knife in your hand, creeping around the kitchen and to the hallway that leads to the bedroom. When you peek, she seems to be sleeping. Still, you don’t risk going up close, throwing the knife from where you stand.

Now you enter the room, leaving her body while you go to search through her belongings. You find several large coats, all brightly colored, and outfits you wouldn’t imagine wearing if it weren’t forced on you. You throw several aqua blue and lime green items onto the bed, pulling the knife out of her skull.

The front door is unlocked, so you relock it. In the woman’s bathroom, you start the shower, shedding everything you’re wearing to step beneath the warm water. It stings every cut on your body, you grit your teeth, watching as the water turns pink and doesn’t run clear for several minutes.

When you step out, you get dressed in the outfit you’d set aside. You tie your hair back into a tight bun at the back of your head, and opt for pulling on a brightly colored wig. As soon as you’re dressed and fairly disguised, you drag the woman to the utility closet, dropping her body down the ladder. The outfit that District Thirteen provided for you follows, as well as the bloodied bed sheets and towel. By the time you’re done, it doesn’t look like you were here at all. You shut the cover, lock the latch, and leave the apartment building.

It takes you a moment of wandering down the roads before you begin to recognize where you are. You’ve been here before, a couple times, actually. The Peacekeepers escorted you to these buildings, and then back to the Tribute Center when you were done working.

It takes you over an hour to get to the designer shop that Cressida was talking to you about. By then, the sun has risen and it’s got to be around noon. You enter through the door, trying to be casual about the way you do. It’s warm inside, there are pants and shirts and underwear made out of fur on mannequins, but there’s no sign that your friends were ever here.

“Can I help you?” A voice purrs. 

You turn to see a tall woman, who has been surgically altered to have the appearance of a tiger. With her skin pulled back tightly, tattooed to have black and gold stripes. Her nose has been flattened, there’s whiskers protruding out of her lips. She wears a long fur coat that matches what she’s wearing.

“Possibly.” You murmur, “Are you Tigris?”

“Yes,” She says, looking over your face, eyes squinting. “And you are?”

“Looking for some friends.” You say, pulling off the wig. “I was told by Cressida that you could help.”

She hums, walking past you to the door. You turn to watch her, body tense, terrified that she’s about to shout to everyone out there that you’re a fugitive. Instead, she turns a lock, coming back your direction. 

“Follow me.”

You do, she brings you behind a rack of clothes, sliding open a panel at the base of the wall. You peer inside and find that there’s a staircase on the other side. You look at her.

“Thank you.”

You have to crawl through the space, she slides the wall shut behind you. You go down the steep steps, eyes searching the darkness. You run into a hanging chain, which you instinctively reach up to pull on. Light fills the room, and you’re met with the sight of several people on the floor, now covering their eyes as they struggle to see their intruder.

It’s easy to spot Cressida, Pollux and Gale. You have to take a few more steps down in order to see Katniss and Peeta.

“(Y/n)...” Cressida’s voice is quiet.

“Where’s Finnick?”

The sound of moving fabric makes you turn your head. Finnick’s on his feet, coming in your direction, arms outstretched to take you in a hug. You run into him, pulling at his vest to bring him flush against your body.

He’s breathing heavily into your shoulder, a hand on the back of your head, the other wrapped around the middle of your back. “It’s okay.” You tell him, fingers wrapped in his curls. “I’m okay.”

“They won’t take you from me ever again.” Finnick tells you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You close your eyes. “I know.” You stroke his hair for a moment, and then pull away to hold onto his face. Finnick searches your eyes, you offer him a soft smile. “I’ll never leave you.”

--

this is part of my 3k celebration!!

[fiapartridge]

intro (end of the world) ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ | jack hughes

“how can i tell if im in the right relationship?”

☼ pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader

☼ summary: after seeing jack for the first time since your breakup, you’re left seeking advice from your nonna…

☼ fia’s note 💌: first part of the series! thx for joining us on this 13-part-series, i’m very excited for what’s to come <3 pls enjoy “intro (end of the world)” ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

eternal sunshine hq ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

next part: bye ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

*₊ ° .　. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

For the past two months, you’ve felt your chest tighten and your throat well up whenever you went to bed. The other side of the mattress felt absent and empty, like the space was waiting idly for a person who would never return.

But today felt different. You saw him for the first time since your breakup. His arm was slung around Nico’s shoulder at the cafe downtown as they talked about their next game against the Pittsburgh Penguins. You didn’t feel like curling up into a ball and rolling out of there before he could see you. No, you felt like breaking into a full-on sob, letting the tears rack through your body and shake you up until you were at his feet, begging him to take you back.

Yet you stood there and you watched Jack talk with Nico, and you clung to your chest, and you stretched the suffocating collar of your scratchy sweater, and you watched him meet your eyes—and you watched him look away. It was like your two-year-relationship was never a thing, as if he had erased all memories of you from his mind. It was like you were no one to him.

Looking around, the cafe seemed smaller, as if the walls were closing in on you and you had to get out quickly before you were trapped.

You sprinted back to your apartment in record time, and upon opening the door, your back hit the wooden slab as you slid down to the ground, pulling out your phone from your pocket. Your hands were shaking, your chest was rising up and down without fail, and your vision was blurred with the amount of tears falling down your pale cheeks.

You waited two rings until your grandmother picked up. She was your safe haven for all things in life. She always knew exactly what wise words to say, and while she was thousands of miles away, you imagined her stroking your hair as you laid your head down on her lap, asking her how life was so easy for her. She would say that her life was everything but that and then go on a long speech about her younger days. That was all you needed now, and all you wanted in the future: to have her, to hear her advice and life lessons, and to pretend she’s still there stroking your hair, wiping your tears, and humming her perfect girl to sleep.

“Nonna?” your voice was shaky and tired, and she could sense it immediately. You could hear her tell your grandfather that she would be in the bedroom if he needed her.

“Sweets? Are you alright?” You missed her voice. It felt like you were calling her less and less nowadays. You hoped she would forgive you for that.

“I,” you stammered, clinging to the silver pendant around your neck. “I feel like every time something good happens to me, it all just…fades away and I hate feeling this way. I hate it, but I don’t know what to do,” you whispered. It all just felt impossible, like feeling happy held this small entity in the back of your mind, telling you that it could all be over in just a matter of seconds. You felt that in your relationship with Jack, you felt that when you saw him earlier, you’ve been feeling that way ever since you walked out of his life.

Being with him wasn’t a solution, but not being with him also wasn’t a solution to your problem. You were stuck and you were clueless as to what to do next.

“Oh, honey,” Nonna’s voice was soft and full of empathy. “Life has a way of tossing us into turbulent seas, but remember that storms eventually pass, and the sun always rises again. You’re feeling the weight of loss now, but that doesn’t mean happiness won’t find its way back to you.”

“But that’s what I’m afraid of. I’m afraid of the happiness, of finding someone new and getting hurt again.” You paused, sniffling before asking, “How can I tell if I’m in the right relationship? I feel like…like you’re supposed to know that type of stuff but I’ve never felt that, or maybe I’ve felt that too much and it’s never been true. I just… I don’t know. I really don’t know.”

[joonggphilia]

☼ Help Me ☼ (Kwak jsk)

☼pairing: Gaon X Male reader ☼prompt: “If we get caught, I'm blaming you, just so we’re clear.” ☼genre: smut ☼CW: needy jiseok <3, fingering, semi-public ☼a/n: First fic of the collab!

Read jaemmphilia’s version here <3

———————————————————————

You slowly opened the door to the band practice room, peeking inside. You were immediately met with open arms and a loud voice. “Baby! I didn’t think you were actually gonna come when I called you.” Gaon, your boyfriend, cooed as he pulled you into the room and shut the door. “Why wouldn’t I come? You literally called me saying it was the most urgent emergency ever.” You sighed, looking around the room to find no emergency in sight. “Well….about that.” He chuckled, his eyes looking everywhere, but yours. “I gotta write a song. I’ve got no inspiration. I’m horny. You can help with all of that right?” He finished. Silence filled the room for a second as both of you looked at each other blankly. “What is wrong with you. Yes, I can help, but this isn’t an emergency.” You scowled. “It absolutely issss!” Gaon whined, childishly. “Now come sit on my lap.” He sneered, pulling you to his desk. You were quite shocked by his actions, but you complied. He sat down on his office chair, desk covered in papers, empty energy drinks, and now he had you on his lap. “Where do we need to start?” You asked quietly, feeling something hard poke your backside. “I know where I wanna start.” Gaon mumbled, his face now tucked in your neck. It was sweet and innocent until you felt his perky dick again and his warm tongue on your neck. “Shit, jiseok. Not here.” You breathed out as you felt your boyfriend grind up against your ass. “M/n, your hard and so am I. I think we can do it here. I know you want to.” He spoke up, his head thrown back as he continued to rock his hips up. “F-fine. If we get caught, I’m blaming you, just so we’re clear.” You groaned, admitting defeat. “Perfect. Take your pants off.” Gaon chirped, getting to the point in an oddly…..cheery way. “Gaon-“ you stared “please m/n. I need you.” He begged, his voice was shaky and airy. That was your breaking point, he asked so nicely. You untied your sweat pants and dropped them to your ankles, letting the cold air hit your legs. Gaon immediately pushed you up against his desk, his stomach leaning on your back. “You need prep? Or did you already? It’s whatever, I’ll help my pretty boyfriend.” He spoke fast, not allowing you to deny him. “W-waiT!” You squeaked as two fingers plunged into your hole. Gaon moved at a comfy speed, in and out, searching for that spot. He curled both digits searching a bit deep, causing you to let out a dramatic gasp. “Bingo!” Gaon laughed as he used has hands to poke and prod at that spot. “G-gaon! Enough!” You whined, his fingers teasing you. “Enough? Babe, I thought you were ok with this. You were gonna help me?” Gaon asked innocently, while adding another finger and moving faster. “N-no, I just, need it now.” You groaned as he pulled his fingers out. He didn’t respond to you, but the sound of his zipper unzipping was conformation. You let out a sigh of relief and adjusted yourself on his desk. “Nope. Your gonna sit on my lap…..or my little friend here, and help me write this song!” He laughed, sitting back down on his office chair. He received an eye roll, but you still obeyed. You made eye contact with him as you slid down onto his dick. Gaon couldn’t help but smile at you face as it twisted into focus as you adjusted yourself. “Ready.” You rasped, as he bottomed out. Gaon stayed still, letting you adjust a bit to the sudden change, You began to move up and down slowly, gaon’s breath hitching and a small chuckle escaping from his lips. He leaned away from his desk and grabbed your hips, leading you up and down. His grip was practically bruising as he sped up. “This is so good. Cmon just a little more M/n” he mumbled into your neck, picking up the pace even faster. “Q-quiet down.” You whined, getting closer to your climax. Gaon of course didn’t listen, only going harder and getting louder. He came inside of you, triggering your own orgasm.. “I told you we wouldn’t get caught.” Gaon snickered, but a knock sounded on the door. “Hey Jiseok, you good in there?”

———————————————————————

[sunsworded]

❝ let me help , then everything can go back to the way it was . ❞ trianthe

@trianthe

     Tʜᴇʀᴇ ʜᴀs been a grief inside her chest where there should be a heart that could devour worlds. A sun that dies destroys what's around it, turns itself into a void, eats and burns away everything within reach and more. Miraculously, she hadn't died, and she hadn't lashed out towards the outward world — not in the sense most people would expect such an outburst to happen, and the thing had only eaten up everything inside her. It hadn't changed it's nature at all: love stayed love stayed devotion stayed loyalty, no matter how it looked from the outside. If there was one thing Corona had always been excellent in, better than with the sword (the one carried not her own), it had been to lie and pretend she was who people wanted her to be. Blood of Eden might have the impression she'd be their chess piece, but her loyalty would always be to a sister, even if said sister had abandoned her, left her behind.

     (Had not made them one piece: moon and sun forced to stay away from each other forever, silver and gold not melted into one, and who would truly understand that grief of not becoming? Why waste such a thing on Babs, poor Babs, stupid Babs, unwilling and unknowing of the gift bestowed?)

     "Can it?" She never sounds as small as she does with Ianthe, and feels it, either. God, how she craves — to be back at that time, attached to the hip, eager to follow and do as her sister wishes, but there are so many things standing between them now. Lyctorhood was eternity, and what good would she be to Ianthe in thirty, fourty years? How to be her sister's sword when she no longer had a need for it? "I don't quite think it can be just like before." But it's longing, and begging, and hopeful.

[shoichee]

Sooo you want angst? How about a fic/hc/scenario where a fem!reader who's friends with Aomine and liked for a long time (since Teiko) but Aho-mine takes her for granted because: 1. He knows she likes him 2. She's not like Horikita Mai 3. She's not affiliated to the basketball club. The reader is left heartbroken and eventually gave up. He only realized that how important she to him is when she's gone, and that he always liked her too when he sees her with someone else. (Bonus points if it's Kagami~) Especially when he sees that guy being all gentle and sweet. Angst and regrets for Aomine, but a bit fluffy for the reader~ "You'll never know what you have until you lose it, *Aho*mine"

Aomine x f!Reader

Word Count: 12,784

yes this is 39-40 pages on the doc, I’m warning you guys, it’s a bit long, but hey~ get your christmas reading in, I guess?

Note: I can’t believe I had to track down the general timeline for this to the point where I found a reddit thread that had the mangaka’s notes on these types of things. The dates given aren’t canon, but the months should be canon in terms of when mentioned canon events happen? The new school year date I’m 99% sure is correct, since it starts the day after spring break.

current 🏷: @nadav-ii, @carinacassiopeiae, @kendrex13, @roppongiperfume, @thesongstressayre, @kimigiri09 (it’s unfortunately not tagging you? i can only make a link to your tumblr)

wanna be in the taglist? check out this post!

»»—————　☼　—————««

[2 years ago]

“Hey…” a boy with cropped hair turned to you sheepishly with a friendly smile. “My bad, but… could you help me with these questions? I don’t really get it, and you seem to know your stuff.”

“Huh?” You looked up from your desk to see a bashful expression for him, clearly finding it embarrassing to ask for help. To help him save face, you quickly agreed, patting the empty table next to you for him to sit. It was before class, an ordinary day in Teiko, though nothing is really “ordinary” in a school like Teiko to begin with.

“Thanks,” he grinned at you.

You nodded at him before asking, “What is it you have trouble on… um…”

“Aomine Daiki,” he finished for you. “And on these questions. I don’t get them…”

“Okay, Aomine-san,” you nodded, leaning closer to properly read the questions. “Here’s how you do them…”

. . .

“Holy crap, you’re an actual life-saver!”

Aomine quickly rushed to the front of your desk after class to thank you, nearly scaring you out of your wits while you were clearing out your space.

“It’s nothing, really…” you insisted, putting your hands up out of shyness. Being praised out of nowhere like that definitely wasn’t a part of an “ordinary” day.

“I’m serious!” he shot back earnestly. “If it weren’t for you, I woulda failed that pop quiz…” He gulped at the thought of Akashi and Midorima figuring out his academic scores. “So I really appreciate you teaching me, even if you didn’t even know me at all!”

“Pfft,” you laughed. “You’re more than free to come ask me for help.”

“Oh yeah,” he turned to face you, with an expression oddly serious for someone like him. “I never got your name.”

You smiled at his outstretched hand and shook it with your own.

“(l/n) (y/n).”

———

[December 12th]

“Aomine!! You made Momoi cry again?”

“Shut up already, and quit naggin’ so much or you’ll grow wrinkles.”

You only give a huff of indignation before sending your best glare to him. He merely looks at you from the corner of his eyes before closing them with a sigh. That was an indication that he wanted this conversation to end—to change the subject elsewhere that wasn’t as annoying to think about.

“... Go easier on her, okay?” you give a sigh of your own before turning away from him. “She only does these things because she really cares for you. I’m really serious.”

Because I care too.

“Everyone worries for you… Kuroko has been really down in the dumps lately… did… something happen between the two of you?”

“You really are more annoying than Satsuki,” Aomine mumbles, getting up from his resting position to sit up with a slouch. You turn around to face him to participate in a banter again, but his pointed look at you stopped all the words from forming on your tongue. You only stare at him when he continues again. “Seriously, I just wanted a nap on the rooftop and you’re always pestering me, for what?” You furrowed your brows to snap at him.

“To practice, Aomine! Practice sucks, I get it. I personally would want to sleep and chill all day, too. But the fact is, everyone is doing their best on the courts, whether in games or drills, and I know that a part of you wants to also be at your best when the games come, so it’s just so frustrating to see you throw away practices like this—”

“What do you know about me?”

You flinch. You have his entire attention now, his sitting position turned completely to face you. His arm is propped up on a knee, and his lips are pulled in a taut line. What does he even mean…? You’ve been friends for years… right? You hesitate before continuing.

“... I might… not know you as well as Momoi, I know that for sure. And Kuroko, too—but when I see those two visibly upset for your sake, I just can’t help but hate to see how your friendships together are just—you guys were so close and then just, something must’ve happened—”

“Shut the fuck up already.” His eyes finally sharpen into a clarity that fully reflected anger. Clearly, your words touched a nerve. “People like you who act all high and mighty when you have no idea what you’re talking about are the most irritating.”

“... Did something happen at practice recently?”

He abruptly stands up before he walks to the ledge of the higher concrete structure, his back to you. You have no idea what his face looked like at the moment, but after a moment of tense silence, he finally lowered his head as if he thought hard about something.

“... You wouldn’t understand.”

And with that, he jumps down, not even bothering to use the ladder to get down. A harsh screech of the bulky door was the only indication that Aomine left the rooftop to no doubt sleep somewhere else. Silence follows.

“I wouldn’t understand… huh…” you whisper out to no one in particular, staring at the city view obstructed by the safety fencing around the rooftop. You bite your lip in hopes of tamping down the awful feelings threatening to bubble out of you—the powerlessness in helping the person you love; the frustration of him never opening up to you; the lost isolation of being constantly left in the dust. This wasn’t the first time he did this to you, always storming off in his own tantrum when you confronted him on these matters—you weren’t a stranger to them at all. You’ve known him for nearly three years now—you shouldn’t be surprised. So why… why do you feel this way now?

But he’s never lashed out on you like this… ever.

You rapidly blink in hopes of regaining your composure, the kind that would pretend everything was okay and that his words didn’t really hurt you at all.

Yet, even when your lips begin to quiver uncontrollably, your eyes take on a glint of determination, your mind made up. It’s been years since you’ve known him, and you’re going to try to get to the bottom of this.

I want to understand him.

———

[December 13th]

“Aomine doesn’t hate you, (l/n)-san.”

“Eh?” You shoot your head up at Kuroko’s words. You decided to look for Kuroko the next day to confide in him about what happened at the rooftop, even when you two aren’t particularly close to each other. But you knew that Kuroko wouldn’t turn you down if matters were about the Generation of Miracles, let alone Aomine. Kuroko is just far too kind to turn away from people in need of help. Even when you know he’s busy, he insists that you two sit together on a bench to talk things out.

“I… I don’t know,” you whisper. “I think I said something that seriously messed up our friendship.” Kuroko offers you a consoling pat on the head when he sees you trying to hold back tears.

“Aomine-kun… tends to say things he doesn’t mean when he’s angry.” Kuroko sighs a bit, but something lurks deep within his eyes before it disappears altogether. “He’s going through a tough time right now, so I think it’s best to give him space.”

“A tough time?” You widen your eyes a bit before turning away. How come Momoi never told you this? Why didn’t Aomine confide in you? “... May I ask what happened?”

“... As much as I want to tell you,” he begins, “it’s not in my place to say. You’d have to ask Aomine-kun himself when he’s ready.” He drops his hand from the top of your head and faces ahead of him, presumably observing people walking by you two as a form of distraction. He’s thinking about something, and you feel that this conversation has been progressively turning more intrusive on your end. You opt to also stare at the passersby while you ask the next pressing question in your mind.

“Then, is it in your place to tell me what happened between you and Aomine?” You instantly regret your question when you see Kuroko stiffen up and bow his head lower to hide his face. “I… just wanted to ask, because I don’t like seeing how you two practically became strangers in a day, when you guys used to hang out so much, as if you two were inseparable… I thought Aomine’s foul moods lately were because of that… but—you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to!” You add the last part in a rush in fear of sounding too demanding.

“Yeah…” he trails off in response. “It’s a bit complicated… I’m still not sure what happened either. It was during our game against Kamizaki when Aomine-kun changed.”

“Oh… Kamizaki…” you reply, uncertainty taking over your voice as you scramble your brain to try to figure out a connection, but to no avail. You mentally curse yourself for not knowing enough about the sport to help out Aomine. “Um, Kamizaki is…?”

Kuroko, thankfully noticing your confusion, patiently explains the context. “Kamizaki is one of the strong teams that gave us a hard time during one of our national matches last year. Aomine had been looking forward to going against them again.”

“Ah!” you chime as if a lightbulb went off in your head. “So you guys lost this year?”

“No, we won that game.”

“Then…” you mumble, furrowing your brows. “I don’t get it… he’s upset that he won?”

(“You wouldn’t understand.”)

“I think it’s something more than that.” Kuroko gets up from the bench while facing you. “Sorry, it’s almost time for practice. I’ll have to get going soon, (l/n)-san. And please don’t be disheartened by Aomine’s words.”

“I’ll try to apologize to him and make amends,” you say with a smile. “If he can scare me away that easily, then I have no right to call myself his friend!” Kuroko gives a small nod and a miniscule smile of his own as he readjusts his book bag on his shoulder.

You only give an automatic wave and nod of your own before he turns to walk away. You, however, miss the somber light in his eyes as he departs for the gym.

———

[December 16th]

You constantly tail after him like a lost puppy at every chance you get, Aomine notes, watching you dash to him with a wave of your arm and a huge smile the moment the school bell signaled the end of the day. He frowns a bit when your eyes fall to the ground when you stop in front of him. Surprisingly, he’s being patient, waiting for you to face him and say what you needed to say. A part of him doesn’t like the troubled look on your face.

“I’m sorry.”

He’s absolutely bewildered, his face giving away what he felt. There’s no way he expected to be forgiven so easily after what he said to you. As much as he knew that he meant every word he said, there was a bitter aftertaste in his mouth after he harshly reprimanded you the other day. You didn’t really deserve him lashing out on you.

“Huh?” He narrows his eyes as he takes a closer read at your face and body language. What the hell? Were you messing with him? “What are you doing?” A rhetorical question he proposed, knowing that no sane person would be this apologetic for something he knew was the one more at fault in the situation. His pride refuses to let him voice out his thoughts though.

“No, really. I’m really sorry for what I said a couple days ago. It was out of line and not in my place to speak when I don’t even know the whole situation and still assume things… so…” you trail off, scratching your cheek in trying to summon up the rest of the words you practiced for your apology for the entire day prior to meeting up with Aomine.

“Oh…” he blinks at your words, replaying the scene at the rooftop in his mind. “That? It’s whatever. Don’t think too much of it.” It’s not really your fault.

“Argh, I’m serious about this, y’know!” you scowl, a complete 180 from the uncertainty on your face seconds earlier. “How could you forget it already?” Despite your words, you’re relieved that he didn’t come to hate you. Besides spending the day practicing your dreaded apology, you spent another day coming to terms with the high possibility that he’d hate you for the rest of his life… and thus, you played out nearly every scenario in your head in how you’d have to beg for forgiveness or find ways to be in his good graces again. The woes of liking someone like Aomine Daiki really came to bite you in the ass quite frequently recently.

Aomine’s eyes follow your hand gestures and explosive outburst before they fall to your side in a weird moment of silence coming from you. You’re thinking about something unnecessary, it seems.

Your thoughts are interrupted when he lightly flicks your forehead. “O-Ow! What the hell?!”

“You’re thinking way too hard about this. Don’t worry about it.�� He’s back to his normal self, face impassive once more as he looks down at you. “Geez… you take things way too seriously.”

“R-Right…” you mumble, clearing your throat after a few seconds of him staring at you. “Anyways… I made an extra bento box today, considering that I heard from Momoi that you’re always stealing food from everyone when you’re hungry… just take it. As a token of apology, or something…” With that, you pull out the lunch from your bag and nearly chuck it at him out of embarrassment before you run out the opposite direction where you came from.

“Heh…” he huffs out a chuckle, half-exhale, before looking at the bento box in his hand. “Token of apology, huh…” He opens up the lid to find every part of the lunch meticulously cooked and delicately placed. Octo-dogs were placed in the corner on top of a small pile of rice, while you made small veggie animals with shredded nori sprinkled generously around. A smirk grows on his face when he observes how much work you actually put into it, and if anyone who knew him saw him right now, they might dare to call his smirk somewhat boyish. “Now that’s a load of crap if I’ve ever heard one in a while, (y/n).”

Now… where should he nap for today? He didn’t want to go back to the rooftop for a while, now that either you or Momoi might come up again to disturb him, and there aren’t a lot of locations who can offer that same level of quiet. Aomine grabs an octo-dog to munch on while he walks down the hallway, thinking about where to go for today. That is, until he hears hurried footsteps that he’s very much grown accustomed to for many years now.

“Dai-chan!” Momoi huffs out of breath before she slows down her running to match his stride. “You didn’t even wait for me to get out of class! You’re such a meanie, ugh!”

“Yeah, yeah…” he automatically replies, already drowning out her voice as he keeps walking. He grabs a cat-shaped carrot to pop into his mouth before noisily chewing it to further block out her chattering of anything that may have happened in the Teiko practices lately. Momoi suddenly stops her usual chirping to tippy-toe to get a better look at what he’s holding.

“Eh? Isn’t that (y/n)-chan’s… lunch?” Momoi’s inquisitive voice brought him out of his mind at the mention of your name. He turns to look down at her pouting face.

“Huh? What about her?”

“Don’t tell me you stole it from her! Mou, if you’re gonna keep doing this to people, at least spare (y/n)-chan! Actually, you should stop stealing people’s lunches—”

“Tch,” he clicks his tongue. “Don’t get it twisted, Satsuki. (y/n) gave me one. Said she had an extra.”

“Oh… I… see,” she drops any further assumptions and turns rather thoughtful, something that Aomine never associates with anything good if her mind wasn’t thinking about something basketball-related.

“You better not think of anything stupid,” he says, proceeding to lazily pick up another octo-dog while picking up his walking speed. Momoi, noticing that he’s trying to divert the topic, also picks up her pace to catch up to him.

“(y/n)-chan is a nice girl, isn’t she?”

“Huh?” He stops walking abruptly. Momoi, in trying to catch up, bumps into Aomine’s back before she takes a few steps back to face an annoyed Aomine. “What the hell’s that gotta do with anything?”

“Nothing like that,” she responds, still deep in thought. She continues with a concerned tone of voice. “Just treat her nicely okay? I saw her crying the other day with Tetsu-kun when I was looking for him.”

“And you think it’s my fault for making her cry,” he coldly finishes her thought, not liking where the conversation is going.

“I-I didn’t say that!” Momoi raises her voice defensively, surprised at his unusual reaction. “I was just trying to see if you knew anything about it, Ahomine! Besides, I’m just warning you to be gentle with her or else you’ll never stop hearing it from me!”

“First you’re gonna nag me about basketball, and now this thing with (y/n)? You’re not my damn mom.”

“Because I know you’re never honest about your feelings!” she retorted, getting straight to the point. “If you’re gonna be an asshole, leave her out of it, seriously! (y/n)-chan’s my friend, so any business she has with you is also mine!”

“What (y/n) does is none of my business.” His voice takes on a more hostile tone. “Unlike you, I don’t hover over her constantly.”

“Liar,” she hisses, dropping her playfulness. “Then what was that whole thing about when you scared off some guys who were going after (y/n)-chan two weeks ago? You clearly were around her a lot more to the point where even Tetsu-kun asked me if you had a thing for her!”

Something rises within Aomine when he hears Momoi’s accusations—sickenly warm and terribly uncomfortable, as if his entire body was feeling the effect of pin needles from lack of blood flow. Whatever it is, he hates it.

“I don’t care if they wanna get close to (y/n) all they want. They were invading my damn personal space,” he spits out. “Those dickheads aren’t her type anyways.”

“So you like her then—”

“Hell no,” he scoffs with an inscrutable expression. “She’s definitely not my type. Let’s get that straight, Satsuki.” He finally decides to look at Momoi with his peripheral vision, but all he discerns is her face clearly glaring at him. “The hell are you looking at me like that? Are you gonna tell me that I can’t have a preference now?”

Momoi softens her harsh expression at his question. “Well… no, but…” She stops before she sighs and decides to drop her interrogation. “I just have that womanly instinct, you know? I think (y/n)-chan might see you as—”

“... I know.” His tone becomes one of defeat, his face also softening from his usual frowning countenance.

“Dai-chan…?” Momoi, immediately noticing his change, tries to look at his face to peer into his eyes, but Aomine averts his eyes away under her scrutiny. “You’re going to have to at least tell her, you know that, right…?”

He grunts under his breath as his only response, but his eyes fixating on your half-eaten bento as he keeps walking ahead speaks volumes to Momoi about his inner turmoil.

She drops the subject for his sake.

———

[January 17th]

You’ve stopped bugging Aomine about basketball entirely.

Bringing it up, you reason, seems to be a really sore spot for him as of late, and it’s hypocritical of you to lecture him on it when you have no clue on the topic to begin with. Maybe you can entrust that role completely to Momoi… after all, he’s much closer to her than he is with you. Maybe instead of “being his mom,” like Aomine says, perhaps you should take the time to observe and appreciate the things around you and mind your own business. Like the trees starting to bud… the refreshing breeze… and white noise of students excitedly talking to each other as they pass by buildings… the therapeutic page flips next to you as Aomine slouches to get himself comfortable on the concrete. Though, that’s what you tell yourself as you continue to hear Aomine give an occasional hum of approval.

The knowledge of the content inside those pages isn’t therapeutic in the slightest. But you’d rather endure your petty feelings of jealousy than to risk upsetting him again. You clench your skirt pleats with every increasing number of page-turns you hear… he’s been going through his new collection a lot faster than usual, too…

You hone your focus on your modern history worksheet on your lap instead, hoping that staring at the printed figure of Yamagata Aritomo hard enough could somehow transport you into Meiji-era Japan and escape your current predicament. Still, you’re grateful that you have the chance to sit next to him at the usual rooftop once again. You don’t know how exactly you two agreed to come up to share the space again, but when you decided to come up to the rooftop on a whim, Aomine was already there. All he said was a lazy “yo” before he went back to reading his issues, which you took as a way for him to tell you that he didn’t mind your presence. And you settled yourself a few feet away from him, making yourself comfortable on the concrete before settling down your bag. Hence, leading up to this point… which you sort of regret being here now.

No matter, if you’re already here, you might as well actually start studying for your high school entrance exams. Normally you’d also turn to Aomine to scold him to take his studies just as seriously, but when you habitually turn to face him and open your mouth… you stop.

What am I thinking? You’re not his mom, remember, (y/n)? You want him to see you as a desirable woman. Stop being naggy!

You give a wry smile to yourself, watching Aomine at peace in this shared moment between the two of you, even if his object of his undivided attention was Horikita Mai.

It’s okay… you think. As long as I get to remain by his side like this, I won’t ask for more.

You force yourself to peel your gaze away from him to look back at the historical figure printed rather crookedly on the paper. You resolve yourself to pick up your pencil and start writing.

You don’t really know how much time passes between the two of you. It could’ve been only thirty minutes; it could’ve been a couple hours. But you begin to find solace with the rhythm of the graphite sliding across your paper, your mind too occupied with recalling lecture notes and your ears too filled with the sound of your pencil scurrying across the print to register anything on Aomine’s end. At last, you finish the last short-answer question on the page, and you gently drop your pencil as your body finally releases all the pent-up tension. Shifting your seating position slightly, you dare to take a peek at the ace of Teiko…

… only to find that his eyes were on you.

Both of you jump and look away at the unexpected shared eye contact, both equally mortified that the other had caught each other staring.

“S-Sorry…” you mumble, “I was just checking on you after I was done with work on my end…”

“Tch… you got too quiet, so I thought you got replaced or somethin’...” he trails off before he goes back to his usual cocky self. “Seeing your ugly face though was more than enough proof that you’re still here.”

You gape at him. “Eh?! What’s that supposed to mean, Ahomine!? Like you’re one to talk, stupid!”

He lazily blinks before putting a pinky in his ear to further irritate you. “Dunno, whenever you’re here, you usually get steam coming out of your nose, like some folklore monster.”

“What?!” you gasp. “I do not!”

“Just like that.”

“Geez…!” you click your tongue, turning away from him to disengage from the banter. “I might have an ugly face, but your nasty attitude won’t get you anyone either, idiot.”

“So what?” he shrugs languidly. “All I need is Horikita Mai-chan, anyways.”

You involuntarily grimace at his serious tone… even if there was (or so you hope) a slight chance that he’s just joking. Thankfully, your face was already turned away for him to notice.

“Yeah, yeah,” you sigh, trying to sound casual. “All those magazines are pretty self-explanatory, y’know.” You then nod your head in his direction, referring to a few scattered booklets strewn around his legs. Turning away, you stretch your legs out, put your things back in your bag, and get up to stand with one final stretch.

“You’re leavin’ already?” he raises a brow at your sudden movement.

“You know that sitting on cement like that for so long isn’t ideal for studying,” you half-chide, inwardly thankful that coming up with excuses has become much easier lately. “I’m probably gonna head home right now before it gets too dark. Are you really gonna stay here all day?”

“I’m too tired to move.”

“You’re so childish, you know that?” You give a small laugh at his antics. “Well, do whatever you need to do. I’ll be on my way. Seeya.”

You skip a bit, eager that you get to escape without raising any suspicions. Aomine might not excel academically, but he isn’t stupid… quite the opposite, in fact. You often get annoyed at how sharp he gets for the most random situations.

“Oi.”

You’re on the first ladder step going down when he calls out, freezing as you grip the sides of the ladder. You watch him get up into a comfortable sitting position, before he looks at you for a bit.

“Er… did you want something?” you tilt your head in slight confusion.

“Never mind,” he sighs. “... Had something on my mind, then forgot. Make me a bento for tomorrow, yeah?”

“He averts his gaze when he lies,” Kuroko said.

You were walking home together, deciding that visiting the convenience store for a quick snack would be a good detour.

“Who?” you stopped licking your ice pop to look at Kuroko’s stare boring into you.

“Aomine-kun.”

“Eh? Why are you telling me this?” you raised a brow at the odd turn of conversation.

He only gave you a knowing look that you couldn’t completely understand before he replied: “I noticed he had this habit recently, and I was wondering if you also noticed it too, seeing that you guys hang out a lot, (l/n)-san. Even if we grew distant, he’s still an important friend to me, so I was hoping if you knew something that was possibly troubling him. I did tell him that I wasn’t going to make him tell me anything he wasn’t comfortable with.”

“No,” you shook your head. “But I’ll keep your words in mind.”

“Thank you.” He smiled. “If you ever have something that’s troubling you, you can come talk to me. You’re my friend, too.”

He’s not looking at you.

You open your mouth to ask what he was about to say, but you close it just as quickly. It’s not your business to prod, after all. Your own gaze skids away while your lips pressed together.

“Well, then…” you say. “If that’s all, then I’ll be off. No promises on the bento, though.”

The sound of metal squeaking and clothes rustling follow your descent down the ladder before metal screeches echo as you open and close the door of the rooftop entrance.

(“You’re going to have to at least tell her, you know that, right…?”)

Aomine sighs loudly in annoyance before he goes back to indulging everything Horikita Mai had to offer in the 27th volume special.

———

[January 22nd]

“What did I say about taking (y/n)-chan’s food?!” Momoi trails after Aomine with a scowl as he continues to walk unbothered. “This is the 5th day in a row!”

“Is it really a problem if she lets me?” Aomine holds your bento box in one hand while covering his face with the other as he yawns. “You can ask her yourself if you don’t believe me.”

“You really don’t understand the heart of a lady—ugh! I swear, you’re as dumb as a rock!”

“Whatever.”

Momoi harshly knits her brows at his apathetic attitude towards you. What should she do? Should she tell you? Should she keep pushing Aomine to be honest? She swallows before deciding it best to keep quiet. But her heart hammers in fear of witnessing another friendship between you, Aomine, and herself crumbling before her eyes again.

Dai-chan… she thinks, looking at his back as he munches on your onigiri. Stop being an idiot for once, would you?

———

[March 1st]

“Thanks,” he says, immediately snatching your bento box out of your hands the moment you pulled it out of your bag.

“What the hell?!” you glare at him, putting your hands to your hips.

“I know you packed an extra one, (y/n). Don’t get mad at me now.” He merely picks up the chopsticks before digging into the tempura. “Ish perrty good shrimp.”

You widen your eyes, forgetting completely to be angry at the sight of Aomine genuinely enjoying your cooking. You avert your gaze at the compliment. “T-Thanks…”

Aomine looks at you, the you that has grown to become compliant and bashful in his presence recently.

(“You’re going to have to at least tell her, you know that, right…?”)

He goes back to finishing your lunch instead of thinking about the difficult things. A part of him likes the current dynamic you two share recently, a nice balance between entertaining banter, peaceful privacy (especially when you stopped yapping his ear off as of late), and free food. Saying the things that Momoi wants him to say could ruin everything you two had. So he doesn’t say anything.

Since when did you start making him lunch every day without him saying anything? It’s been a month since this started, ever since he made that one off-comment about making him lunch to throw you off from his uncharacteristic silence. You never complained that it was too much work, and you certainly never slacked off on your craft when it came to your bento boxes. Every lunch he’s eaten from you was carefully curated and cooked to near perfection.

It’s unfair for you, he knew. What would he say though? He’s never been one with words at all. He frowns.

“Something wrong with my lunch?” you tease, and he looks up to see you staring at him so fondly.

Quit looking at me like that…

“Tch, it’s edible enough,” he slightly sulks at your good-natured tease before shoving another helping into his mouth.

“Say,” you begin, eagerly leaning forward to get his attention. “What school are you thinking of enrolling in a couple weeks?”

“None of your business,” he snorts, already satisfied at seeing your fond, sappy look turning into a more combative expression. There it is.

“Oh come on!” you insist. “So you already chose a school without telling me? Let me guess, it’s one of those… Kings of… schools—the really strong schools for basketball?”

“Three Kings of Tokyo,” he corrects you. “Nah.”

“Tell me,” you huff with your arms crossed. “Or I’m not making you bento anymore, and you can starve to death.”

“Geez, I was about to tell you anyways,” he drawls, already finishing the last bite. “That one school called Touou.”

“Huh? But I’ve never really heard of that school from anywhere though, especially for basketball.”

“Yeah, got an offer, though.”

“Oh…” you hum, packing away your own lunch into your bag. “If that’s the case, I might consider that school too, then.”

“Hah?” He raises a brow. “Why?” He puts his utensils down to look at your figure.

“Uh…” you mumble, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “Someone’s gotta have to keep you in check, right? Besides, I personally don’t have any idea where to go yet either.”

“If you’re just coming to tag along with me,” Aomine begins, narrowing his eyes. “Forget it. Satsuki is already coming with me, no matter how much I tell her to buzz off. I don’t need another person to nag me 24/7.”

“But—!” you counter, raising your eyes to meet his own. “How are you gonna manage with lunch and all?”

“I’m not a kid, (y/n), and you know that,” he coolly responds. “They have cafeterias, vending machines, and fast food spots. I can manage without you.”

“Um, even so…” you argue, though your voice dwindles at his strong attempts of pushing you away. You feel uneasy at the inevitable argument that’s to come right around the corner. “I’m not as easy to get rid of either like Momoi, you know that more than anyone, too.”

Goddamn it, why were you so stubborn at the wrong times? Can’t you take a hint?

(“You’re going to have to at least tell her, you know that, right…?”)

“Look…” he sighs, eyes looking straight at you to convey his message across. “I know you like me, and all. But you’re not my type. I don’t see you that way.”

But even though he tries his damn hardest to look at you, he can’t. He chickens out at the last sentence and looks away.

“I-I… I know… I’ve known,” you weakly reply. “But staying by your side as friends is more than what I can ask for. I value our friendship more than anything else.”

“And I’m not the guy for you, either,” he carefully continues. “Can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but choose a school for your own good—”

“Who are you to decide whether or not you’re good for me?” you snap, visibly frustrated at the turn of events. Weren’t you two just enjoying each other’s presence a few minutes ago? Was it all in your head? “I make the choice of whether or not I want to spend time with you! And you know how persistent I can be… I’m sure Touou has a really good curriculum and selection of extracurriculars, too, I can make it work—”

“You’re an actual dumbass,” he hisses, his short temper getting the better of him after you went hostile on him. How could you not see his point? “How does this shit keep flying over your head?”

You flinch, the feeling so familiar to the time he lashed out on you at the rooftop. He’s glaring into your widened eyes, but he doesn’t care right now, the words he’s been struggling to form and tell you for months now flowing out of him with no filter. If he only realized you liked him a couple months back, how long have you actually liked him? A year? More than that? The adrenaline right now is the only crutch in giving him the courage to give you some type of closure you deserved, even if a part of him hates to see you upset.

“... The hell’s that supposed to mean…?” Your voice cracks at the end, and your hands grip the straps of your book bag so hard they’re shaking.

Where’s the boy I liked from 2 years ago?

“I mean exactly what I said,” he spits out, his own frown further deepening into a visible crease on his face. “Look, (y/n), you can’t keep tailing after me forever. That’s hella annoying.”

“What about Momoi…?” you whisper. “I get that you’re childhood friends, but how come you always let her stay by your side?”

“Look,” he shoots back. “Satsuki is different—”

“Aomine-kuuuun!” Momoi’s voice rings across campus, and Aomine whirls around to see her running to him at breakneck speed. “Hey, hey! There’s a new coffee shop around the corner! We should totally try it together! I’ll even pay for you if you ask nicely enough…”

You stare at the floor, trying to hold back unshed tears by gripping your bag straps even harder. “... Excuse me.”

“Wha–hey!” Aomine turns back to face where he presumed you were at, only to see you gone from his sight.

“... Was that (y/n)-chan?” Momoi shoots a curious glance behind his back.

“Tch, don’t worry about it.” He gives a long, winded sigh before scratching the back of his head. “Just leave her be.”

She only gives a worried look at him before she continues with her prior conversation.

———

[March 4th]

You avoid him for the next few days… that much he expects. He’ll never say it out loud, but he finds it sort of amusing to see you try to keep yourself completely hidden from him. The way you duck when you see him; the way you scramble to grab your belongings before you book it; the way you try to run so fast to escape his line of vision when he can easily catch up to you if he just jogs. But he doesn’t.

Because even though he’s a bit bummed about what happened the other day, he now doesn’t feel the pressure to stick around you just to build up his courage to finally give you that closure.

It feels quite nice to not have any obligations and demands expected of Momoi or you. Naps have never been so peaceful now that his sense of conscientiousness has been relieved. Other than Momoi occasionally bothering him, but that’s manageable… he’s quite used to that.

He’s not 100% used to not seeing you around him every day, though.

It’s probably for the best.

Still, maybe he was too harsh on you (like always). But there’s no way in hell he’s going to march up to you and grab your arm while you’re running and then apologize. That might give you the wrong idea—

“Pssst, hey, (y/n)-san seems distant from Aomine, lately.” A small group of people huddled around a desk, surrounding a guy sitting on it, who appears to be the source of the voice.

“Weird, isn’t it? She follows him around every day, and he’s always guarding her or something.”

Bullshit. He doesn’t “guard” her—his resting bitch face and his ridiculous athletic build have always been advantageous for both (y/n) and Momoi to repel off the creeps. Not that he cared. It’s only when they get so noisy and too close in his bubble that he gives them verbal threats of violence. And that almost always works to scare them away.

“Think I can have a chance with her this time?”

“I dunno… (y/n)’s not the passive type to go along with it. I mean how else could she deal with Aomine every day?”

“... You’re right.”

“I mean… there’s Momoi…”

Aomine sighs. They really have nothing better to do, huh.

They’re right that they’re the type of people (y/n) wouldn’t like in the slightest. He doesn’t know what you see in him, but at least your standards aren’t abysmally low where you’d happily go along with one of them. He scoffs to himself in a way to mock their desperate attempts.

They don’t know what’s coming to them if they actually were serious about dating her. Avoiding her romantic advances is like dodging a bullet, actually.

He kinda misses your cooking, though. His self-assured grin instantly flips into a frown at the stray thought.

———

[March 5th]

Imagine his unadulterated shock when he sees you casually walk up to his desk and drop a wrapped package of (what he assumes) his bento box the next day.

“What,” you dryly say. “Did you think you could get rid of me that easily?”

“... Whatever.” He merely eyes the lunch before he carefully tries to get a read on your face. Holy shit, you look awful, eyes slightly puffy probably from all the crying you did behind closed doors. He chooses not to acknowledge the weird pang his heart does at the sight of you.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” you goad, though you sound a bit too exhausted to be provoking. “At least, until we graduate and go into our high schools, let me continue making lunch for you. As… a symbol of our… good friendship.” You hesitate to try to find the right phrasing for the last part… Now that you really thought about it these past few days… were you two really friends? You just bothered and tagged along with Aomine your entire three years here at Teiko, and you always tried to cater your schedule and interests around him. Here you were, trying to understand him as best as you can.

Did he even try to understand me at all the entire time we’ve known each other?

“... What’s your game?” he says, clearly thrown off guard, He opts to look away from you to stare at the window by his desk. “... Did I not make it clear last time?”

“Yeah, yeah… I know.” You give a sad smile before your grin grows unnaturally wider to hide your vulnerabilities. “You were unusually honest. So honest, it threw me off.”

No more… I’m not opening my heart to you any longer.

“Are you here to just embarrass me or something for revenge?”

“No one has that type of deplorable thinking like you,” you chastise, seemingly back to your old self. “Besides, we’re friends, first and foremost, and I can’t ignore a friend in need. You were probably starving yourself like an idiot, or something.”

Aomine was still facing the windowsill, but at your words, his eyes flitted to look at you once more. “... You sound like Tetsu.”

“Oh wow!” you gasp, putting a hand to your mouth in surprise. “How’d you know we’re dating?”

He whips his head to you. “What?! What the hell are you talking about?—”

“Kidding,” you interrupt him before he gets too explosive on you. “You can’t be that much of an idiot to not be able to call out that bluff.”

“Screw off.”

He can only click his tongue in absolute annoyance as he hears you laugh to yourself walking out of the room before the school bell rings.

Yeah, you're definitely back to your normal self.

He’s a bit reassured that he’ll still have you in his life.

———

[March 15th]

It’s been two weeks since Aomine completely crushed your hopes of a romantic relationship with him. You don’t feel okay, not at all, but you’re eagerly counting down the days before you can go to Seirin with Kuroko.

And no, you never planned to go in order to be by Kuroko’s side. It was a mere coincidence that you found out.

[March 8th]

“(l/n)-san, what’s wrong?” Kuroko sipped his vanilla shake, popping up out of nowhere while you were in the middle dwelling in your negative thoughts alone at your table. Your burger was left half-eaten, and your fries got cold.

“EEP!” You were shocked out of your daze, jumping in your seat. You eyed a worried Kuroko across the table. “Ah, geez, it’s just you. When’d you get here?”

“For a while actually,” he admitted. “I first called out your name from afar, but it didn’t seem like you noticed me.”

“Well,” you sweatdropped. “I don’t think I would’ve noticed you anyways under any other circumstances…”

“When you’re upset…” Kuroko said. “You have your own habit of looking down, whether it’s your lap, the floor, or what’s in front of you.”

“Leave it up to you to easily figure that out,” you sighed. “You’re always with me when I’m thinking about something dumb or just messed up. Sorry that you constantly have to deal with that.”

“It’s not a problem, (l/n)-san.”

“Yeah…” you mumbled. “So, I’m gonna get straight to the point… Aomine knew he liked me, and yeah, it didn’t end well…”

“Ah.”

“Don’t worry, though,” you reassured him. “I knew all along that it would… end up this way.”

“... Even if you hoped for more?”

“I can’t help that, can I?” you sighed again. “Anyways, right now, I was thinking about what I want to do after I graduate from Teiko… I never thought about these things like that. ‘Cause, you know, I thought I could figure things out on the go while being by both Aomine’s side… but I guess he’s right that I shouldn’t mindlessly follow him everywhere… and Momoi has her own plans of going to Touou as their basketball manager. I should leave those two be.”

Kuroko stayed silent for you to continue.

“Seirin seems like a good school… It’s new, but it has really good facilities, and even if I don’t know what to do, it seems like it can give lots of good opportunities, and if anything, it can give me a fresh start.”

Kuroko slightly widened his eyes. You noticed and tilted your head for him to explain his reaction.

“I’m also going to attend Seirin.”

“E-Eh?!! That’s a scary coincidence… What’s your reason for picking it?”

“... They seem to have a good basketball team,” he quietly replied, his eyes looking as if they’re looking so far back. “I like their teamplay. I’ve been wanting to be in that type of team for a long time.”

“I see…” you murmured. For a moment, you noticed Kuroko’s pained look… but remembering Aomine’s words about being nosy, you decided not to press into it.

You give a long sigh again. And here you thought that you can end your last year at Teiko well and happily. Right now, you would usually look for Aomine in his usual spots: Maji Burger, the school rooftop, or the local park. It’s different now. Sitting on an empty table outside to finish up the rest of those pesky kanji worksheets, you finally truly take in your surroundings… the trees starting to bloom this time… the refreshing breeze… and white noise of students excitedly talking to each other as they pass by buildings… but there are no longer the therapeutic sounds of page flips next to you as Aomine slouches to get himself comfortable on the concrete. Though, you pretend you’re next to him as you continue to somehow hear Aomine give an occasional hum of approval at whatever filthy page he feasted his eyes on.

Once again, the knowledge of the content inside those pages you imagined isn’t therapeutic in the slightest.

It hurts.

And there’s no way you can focus on the questions, not when thoughts of Aomine continue to pervade and fill up every damn crevice—every crook and cranny—of your mind.

Were you missing something? Were you not pretty enough? Were you not relatable enough? Was there another way for Aomine to consider seeing you as a romantic partner?

For the first time, you really let the implications of Aomine’s words sink in… If you had more agency—more independence—in the first place, would he have considered letting you tag along to Touou? What if… you had more knowledge on basketball like Momoi?—

“(y/n)-chan…!”

A familiar, chirpy voice breaks you out of your wallow in self-pity and a flash of pink fills your vision. Of course your thoughts accidentally summoned her here, you wrly think. Momoi represented the complete opposite of your current emotional state, flouncing around quite cheerfully to grab your attention. Though, if you are completely honest, she has the same look of sorrow in her eyes similar to Kuroko’s.

“What’s wrong, Momoi?” you ask, giving her a reassuring smile to encourage her to share her potential troubles.

“Eh…? What’s wrong with me?” she frowns in confusion.

“You look a bit down, that’s all. You and Kuroko share the same look in your eyes sometimes.”

“Oh…” she averts her gaze. Normally, she would squeal about having something in common with her “true love,” but she takes on a somber note of acknowledgment. “I guess you can say that… but more importantly!” She directs the subject of conversation to you. “You! (y/n)-chan! You look like you need more comfort than me.”

She takes a seat next to you and eyes at your worksheets, noting the sporadic dried splotches across the paper. You’ve been crying.

“I guess it takes a sad person to know another one,” you joke, though your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Momoi frowns at her only friend (besides the GoM) in such a distressed state, even if she knows you’re actively trying to hide it.

“It’s about Dai-chan, isn’t it?”

“Ah…” you look down at your worksheets. “So you knew.”

“Sorry…” she murmurs. “I told him to be gentle and honest with you.”

“Well he certainly gave me the latter,” you softly laugh. “Hey, hey… there’s no need to be down for my sake.” You immediately reach out to gently ruffle her hair with a head pat. She widens her eyes at the unexpected physical contact.

“Sorry, did I push my boundaries?”

“No, no…!” she denies, shaking her head to reassure you. “You reminded me of Tetsu-kun right now… that’s all.”

“Huh, I guess he’s been rubbing off on me,” you muse. A thought comes to you. “Actually, can I ask you something?”

“Eh?” She blinks. “Sure, I’ll try my best to answer whatever it is.”

You finally look up to face Momoi head on. “Was I ever too overbearing on Aomine? I wonder if I crossed any boundaries with him at any point. If you noticed anything at any point, please tell me everything.”

“No,” she firmly reassures. “You didn’t do anything wrong at all. Dai-chan is the real idiot here. You’ve only done what’s best for him, and I would’ve done the same in your place.”

“Pfft, he always calls us nagging grandmas, doesn’t he?”

“Right? He has no tact, at all!” Momoi huffs, puffing out her cheeks in a pout. “Despite all that, he cares for you, (y/n)-chan. I’m serious. Even if he’ll never admit it like the idiot that he is.”

You give a rueful smile. “Thank you, Momoi.”

Turning away from Momoi, you look up at the trees, so full of flowers that it fills the void in your heart by gazing at them. You sense that she’s also doing the same.

“... Hey, Momoi?”

“... yes?”

“You love Kuroko, don’t you?” You turn back to face Momoi. She gives an innocent simper at the mere mention of his name.

“I do. But even though he’s not the type to date, I want to be by his side.”

You smile too, her joy too contagious to ignore, but that smile somewhat deflates when your thoughts go back to Aomine against your will.

“Hey… how do you love someone who doesn’t love you back?”

She pauses and takes in the many implications of your question. “I don’t know,” she admits. “It just happens, you can’t always control it… I’ll wait for Tetsu-kun, even if it’s the most idiotic thing to do. I just can’t help it. That’s what love is, I think.”

“I see…”

“It’s not for everyone. Loving someone like that.”

“I thought I could do that…” Your whisper comes out so hoarse. “With Aomine—I thought… as long as I got to be by his side, I wouldn’t ask for more… but it hurts to go back to being friends—it hurts to see him… I don’t want to see him anymore.” The last part of your confession ends up being a choked sob.

“Shhh…” she hushes you to console you. “It’s okay, it’s good to cry it out.” She rubs down your back as tears endlessly plop onto your worksheets, no doubt ruined by now.

“Please… please don’t tell—”

“I won’t tell anything to Dai-chan… I promise.”

Dai-chan… were you truly honest with (y/n)-chan?

———

[April 6th]

“Aomine-kun! There you are! Where were you? Sheesh, we don’t want to miss the entrance ceremony!”

Aomine towers over the crowd, his eyes clearly scanning—looking—for something amidst the countless students walking around and socializing amongst one another. Even as Momoi tugs on his new uniform blazer (not properly worn, no doubt) to get him to walk, he stands to face the front gates expectantly.

“... Where’s (y/n)?”

“Huh?” Momoi looks at Aomine like he grew three legs. “She’s not at Touou, Ahomine. What are you even talking about?”

“... Thought she woulda tailed me here too.”

“You told her off to choose a different school!”

“I did not,” he grunts. “I told her to choose a school for a reason that’s not on me. Besides, my words never stopped her from annoying me all the time… Wait, when did you hear me say that?”

“You were shouting at her that day! Anybody nearby could’ve heard that!” She glares at him. “And well, those words of yours certainly stopped her now. Do you hear yourself right now?”

“The hell…” he ignores Momoi and curses, kicking the gravel before lazily walking with his hands in his pockets to his assigned seat for the ceremony. Of course, Momoi tails after him despite being pissed off.

Words from all the speeches from the faculty and student alumni went in one ear out the other for him in a continuous slur of nonsense. His body goes on autopilot, standing and sitting when everyone else does the same, while he continues to scan over the hundreds of heads, thinking he must’ve missed your dumbass by mistake. Of course he notices Momoi sitting a short distance away from him; the way everyone ogles at her is obnoxiously contagious and far from discreet.

But where are you?

———

[April 10th]

“... Do you mind if…” you hesitate, turning to Kuroko after he signs his name on the basketball club interest form. “... You teach me more about the sport?”

Kuroko looks at you curiously at your question, and you quickly clarify yourself. “It’s not for Aomine’s sake, or anyone else’s for the matter. I just want to watch a few of your practices, and things like that… it might be fun… I wanna try something new.” You give a small smile, albeit nervously. “I won’t be in the way, I promise—even if I don’t know what’ll be happening most of the time—”

“I’ll ask the coach when the time comes,” Kuroko reassures you, his own smile mirroring your own growing grin at his answer.

“Alrighty!” you cheer. You stop yourself when you see a student who easily towered over everyone at the basketball club booth. “What the… that guy’s a high school student?!”

“Oh,” Kuroko turns to where you were pointing. “He seems like someone with a hot temper.”

“Reminds me of a certain someone, doesn’t he, Kuroko…?” You give a soft elbow jab and a playful lilt, though both of you knew you were both still recovering from the emotional blows from last year.

He quietly nods before he follows you to the other club booths nearby.

———

[April 20th]

“Where did Kuroko go…!” You’re breathless at the bench, watching the game between Seirin and Kaijo. This is just a practice game? It’s way too intense to be considered such.

Riko, amused at your reactions, gladly explains what’s going down on the courts as it happens. “Kuroko’s greatest strength is using his lack of presence for his misdirection—”

“And wait—Kagami is—!” You near-completely ignored Riko’s explanation when Kagami steals the show with a dunk, completely leaving you in awe with his impossible vertical. “What kind of person jumps that high… what the hell?” She merely chuckles with a hand to her lips before she turns her full attention back to the game.

Kise experiences his first taste of defeat soon enough.

You ignore the way your heart flipped when Kagami dunked the final basket on Kaijo.

———

[May 23rd]

Aomine lays serenely on the rooftop, but his mind is far from relaxed. Tomorrow is the day Touou would crush Seirin in the Inter-High preliminaries.

… Seirin, huh.

He remembers when Momoi broke the news to him when they walked home together after the entrance ceremony. Thinking about it still pisses him off—he can’t help it though, he can’t stop thinking about it… his mind involuntarily plays that conversation in his head over and over. No amount of porn magazines could bury the dull thuds in his chest when he thinks about you.

[April 6th]

“She’s at Seirin right now.”

“What?!” His eyes slightly widened as he stopped walking to incredulously look at her. “You’re seriously pullin’ my leg right now, Satsuki.”

“I would totally yank your stupid legs if I could, Ahomine,” she petulantly grumbled. “But I’m telling the truth. She told me before we went off on our spring break when we said our goodbyes to each other. I told her I was going to miss her, and I also told her to take care of Tetsu-kun for me and let me know if anything happened over there.”

What the hell? When did you get close to Satsuki enough to confide in her? How come he didn’t hear shit from you?

“Hah, so you’re telling me she’s tailing Tetsu now that she can't follow me?” He gave a derisive snort, not liking the development of your relationship with Kuroko for some reason. Momoi gave him that knowing look of admonishment.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, idiot! One! They don’t see each other like that, and two! How (y/n)-chan decided on her school is none of our business. I’m sure she has her own reasons, and you have no right to judge her at all!”

Aomine stared at Momoi, who’s usually so compliant to his demands and harsh words. To see her stick up for you so adamantly was more than surprising. He furrowed his brows before walking ahead of her in a feeble attempt to cut the conversation short.

“Tch… I know that already…”

He releases a heavy sigh. His ego wouldn’t allow him to simply go up to Kuroko and ask about your wellbeing, let alone asking him to set up a time and place for him to meet up with you. What were you doing over there right now? Were you doing okay? Are there random people harassing you or bothering you now that he’s not there with you to scare them off?

He slings his arm over his eyes and sighs again.

“... This is annoying. I’m tired…”

God, it sucks so bad, but he really misses your lunches. Satsuki’s atrocious cooking is still lethal to this day, and Sakurai’s octo-dogs he sometimes steals only measures up to a fraction of the taste of your own octo-dogs.

He’s been hallucinating for a bit—even while he naps, he’s sworn that he always hears pencil scribblings and annoying sighs nearby. He swears that it’s you, that you’re actually enrolled in Touou and that somehow, you roped Momoi into agreeing into this sick prank to get back at him for all the shit he’s done to her all these years. He swears he can hear you muttering the questions out loud before you deftly solve them. He swears he can hear you nagging him to practice even if you haven’t had a clue what basketball entails.

What the hell… He thought that you two would still be friends—attached to the hip, even if a romantic relationship was out of the question. He supposes that it’s a bit naive on his end to think that. Damn it, damn it… Seirin isn’t that far from Touou either… wouldn’t you normally find the way and time to stop by and annoy him like there’s no tomorrow, anyways?

———

[August 14th]

“Kuroko, who do you think would win?”

“I don’t know,” he replies. “This is the first time I’ve seen two Generation of Miracles starters play against each other… However, Aomine-kun inspired Kise-kun to play basketball.”

“Really?” Kagami turns to him in surprise. You stand nearby, listening to Kuroko’s words carefully. After all, they pertained to Aomine.

“They used to play one-on-one a lot, but Kise-kun has never won.”

Aomine… was THAT good? You blink in surprise, remembering about Seirin’s practice match against Kaijo before you turn your attention back on the court. Well, you shouldn’t be that surprised, considering that the Seirin returned with a loss against Touou in the preliminaries… before getting eliminated altogether later on. Knowing how amazing Kagami and Kuroko are at basketball… if they both got single-handedly defeated by the ace of Touou, you shouldn’t doubt Kuroko’s words about Aomine’s strength. You weren’t there to watch that game after all.

You feel a warm, heavy hand pushing on top of your head.

“H-Hey!”

“You have a scary look on your face that I almost mistook you for Aomine,” Kagami says quite seriously, though if you squint, you swear that he’s teasing you. Irk marks pop onto your temples as you try to shoo his hand off of you.

“Oh—come on! Lay off, will you? I do not have a scary face! If anything, it’s you!”

“The hell do you mean by that?!”

“I mean exactly what I said, Kagamidiot!”

Kuroko, unbeknownst to anyone, observes your interaction with Kagami with the faintest smile before turning his attention to see the referee starting the jump ball.

“Everyone, it’s starting.”

———

[December 7th]

He… he lost.

He finally lost.

Aomine stares at Kuroko and Kagami, still reeling from the foreign sensation of defeat creeping into him.

“Why are you acting like it’s all over?” Aomine snaps out of his daze to focus on Kagami. “Things are just getting started. Let’s play again. I’ll take you on.”

Aomine stands there at a loss for words until he scoffs at him, but if anyone was to look at Aomine right now, they would say he’s relieved and pleased to hear those words. “Shut up, idiot.”

“Aomine-kun…” Kuroko calls out, bringing Aomine’s attention from Kagami to his former “shadow.” A moment of reflection is shared between the two of them before Aomine finally acknowledges Kuroko’s style of basketball.

“You win, Tetsu.”

Kuroko contemplates for a bit before opening his mouth. “Can I ask you for a favor?” Kuroko raises his hand in a fist bump before Aomine makes a noise for him to continue. “You still haven’t returned my fist bump.”

“What?” he retorts, slightly flustered at the sudden request. “Who cares about that?”

“No,” Kuroko says, deadpan as ever. “Try putting yourself in the shoes of the ignored.” Aomine gives a long look, hesitant and unsure before he finally relents.

“Fine. This is the last time though… Next time, I’ll win.”

“Okay.”

While still holding the fist bump, Aomine finally brings himself to ask the question plaguing in his mind for the past couple months: “Hey… is it true that (y/n) is in Seirin?”

Kuroko widens his eyes in momentary surprise before he carefully responds. “Yes, she’s actually been cheering us on these past couple months. She’s somewhere in the stands right now. Though, I’m not sure where.”

“I see…” The ace of Touou separates from the fist bump first and turns to get ready for the team lineup, looking rather thoughtful.

Kagami raises a brow at the question that came out of seemingly nowhere for someone like Aomine, but in truth, he knew. You told him everything about what happened between you and Aomine a couple weeks ago while shedding tears.

“There’s nothing wrong with you at all.”

“Eh?” You attempted to wipe the last of your tears before you looked at Kagami to see his reaction. He still could see how red your eyes were even despite trying to remain unbothered about the ordeal. He remembered how distraught you were retelling your past friendship with him… and how you used to like him. How did you even manage to think that you weren’t pretty enough? Helpful enough? And how did you manage to believe yourself to be the most annoying person in the world? Remembering what you said made him boil.

“I can’t believe that guy’s full of it even outside of basketball, that idiot!”

“Honestly…” you gave a sardonic smile to mock your own weakness. “What do you mean?”

“Huh? Well…” He looked away with a comical pout before facing you again. “If I was him, I wouldn’t take you for granted like that. Who the hell would read dirty magazines in broad daylight like that? Seriously, it’s so funny I could bust a spleen!” His response took on a more mocking tone at the end, and he noticed your eyes taking on an amused light at his reaction.

“Didn’t Kuroko correct you that it’s ‘gut,’ and not a ‘spleen’ way back months ago?”

“What? It’s the same thing.” He crossed his arms with a sigh before he looked at your face again, satisfied to see you slightly cheered up. “Anyways, if I ever become like that type of guy, feel free to hit me or something.”

“The way you went and above at being pissed for my sake, I don’t think I’d have to worry about that, Kagami.” Your smile grew to be teasing and affectionate, and his heart started to race at the sight of it.

“Uh—well…” Kagami averted his gaze, scratching his cheek to hide his flushed cheeks. “It’s just… I think you’re fine the way you are.”

You widened your eyes at his words.

“Really…?”

His heart broke at how truly surprised you were at his candor. He meant it; he really did, and it wasn’t fair for you to live like this just because some prick didn’t have the balls to be nice to you, something you deserved again and again.

“I’ll wake that idiot up for you, I swear it.”

You started laughing at him, catching him completely off-guard as his face started heating up even more. “What—hey! What the hell’s so funny?! I’m trying to be serious!”

“Ah…” you breathed out, wiping out the last of your tears after doubling over for a few minutes. “Don’t worry, Kagami. I believe in you. Beat his ass in the Winter Cup for me, yeah?”

Kagami cleared his throat before he mustered up the courage to give you a gentle head pat (albeit very clumsily).

“Y-Yeah…”

Kagami frowns, wondering if you and Aomine will ever sort things out after this game. Part of him worries that your next encounter with him wouldn’t go very smoothly, knowing how complicated Aomine is as an individual.

Kuroko looks at the floor before continuing, almost as if he read Kagami’s mind. “We should also move to line up, Kagami.”

“... Yeah.”

———

[December 8th]

“Shopping is such a damn pain,” Aomine yawns, holding his box of new basketball shoes under his arm. Momoi, of course, is already next to him ready to scold him into oblivion.

“Did you forget that your feet are humongous? Of course the shops wouldn’t have your size,” she sighs at his childish attitude. “Now you’re going to try this new pastry shop with me! You promised to come with me if I went with you to shop for your shoes.”

“I don’t remember promising anything.”

“Meanie! You did! Now don’t be like that and wait here! I’m going to check the lines and available tables.” And before Aomine can wedge another complaint in, Momoi dashes like her life was on the line, clearly risking everything for a chance to taste the strawberry mille-feuille that the shop was famous for.

Geez… he mentally sighs before deciding to look for a place to sit. She better hurry her ass up.

Luckily for him, there’s a spare empty bench near some trees despite the busy crowds. Taking the opportunity, he plops himself down while settling his shoe box next to him. He looks at the box for a moment. He finally has a rival now, huh. Seirin… he wonders how long it’s been since he last saw you… a couple months? Actually… it’s been almost a year.

Indulging Horikita Mai-chan feels off now, and indulging even more of her featured volumes made him feel worse than if he didn’t read any of them to begin with. The temptation to pick up a new racy issue has declined drastically, and Wakamatsu’s threats of burning them are becoming less dire as the days go by. If he actually burned them now, he probably would remain just as unphased and still not show up to practice. Well, now he’ll consider showing up to practice with or without the threats anyways, now that Kagami can keep him on his toes.

He gives a rueful smile. You’re always meddling in his affairs and ruining the consistent routines he’s set up for himself, even if you’re not physically by his side. That’s just like you to ruin him like this. He frowns. Or maybe you’re doing this on purpose as karma for him being an asshole to you all this time. Maybe you’re an Imayoshi, and you’re playing him like a fiddle?

Nah, he thinks, a small chuckle escaping from his lips. You’re too much of an idiot to think like that. You’re too easy to read, (y/n).

He shoves his hands into the pockets of his navy puffer jacket, and he leans forward on the bench with a long exhale. This isn’t good, he’s been thinking about you way too damn much. It’s actually concerning. Is it because he feels bad about chasing you off? Is it because of the uncertainty of his current standing with you in terms of your friendship? Maybe.

He amended his friendship with Kuroko through basketball, something that he’s very comfortable in navigating about. But you? How is he going to approach you?

He’s too much of a coward to stop by Seirin and look for you and get the answers, though.

“Your grades are absolutely atrocious, what the hell? How are you gonna fare well on the final exams for the semester?”

“That’s… we’ll worry about that when the time… comes.”

“Wrong answer! We can’t have you failing when you’re just a first year!”

“Oh come on, I still have two more years to pick up my slack, don’t I?”

Aomine slightly perks up at the familiar voices, the conversation breaking him out of his own thoughts. He freezes when he sees you.

The sight of you sends his own heart into a frenzy, his heart pounding against his chest so incessantly—painfully. The adrenaline he accumulated from his last game is no match for the compressions he feels at this very moment. Is it because he hasn’t seen you for nearly a year that he feels this way? You look different—older for sure—and definitely just as expressive as you were back in Teiko. You’re wearing your casual clothes and the biggest smile he’s seen from you yet.

But the person who’s making you smile like that isn’t him. His eyes finally stop focusing on you to look at the bigger picture in front of him. His eyes widen further when he registers that it’s none other than Kagami.

“Oh come on,” Kagami sighs at your pout. “Don’t be like that…”

“Look, I’ll even offer you tutoring free of charge, but you can’t neglect your studies.”

“Fine, fine…” Kagami ruffles your hair to appease you. “Just know I’m not that good with these types of things. You’re gonna have to take it easy with me.”

“Obviously! Did you think I was gonna bust out a master theory textbook on you? I’m not heartless! Honestly…” You punch his arm before you smile at him. “Before we get going, how’s your legs? You haven’t pushed yourself too much, have you?”

“Nah, I’m okay now.” He sweatdrops when he sees you raising your brow in suspicion. “I’m serious this time!”

“Pffft,” you snicker at how easy it is to get a reaction out of him. “How about to celebrate your win, we can go try that new pastry shop down the street? I heard the strawberry mille-feuille is really good there… maybe we can both try our hands in making a homemade recipe after?”

“Huh, I haven’t had that in a while, actually. Sounds pretty good.”

“Actually, what types of desserts do Americans even serve over there? We can save a day where we can bake the team an entire stockpile for them to try? Though, I hope Riko doesn’t somehow tamper them with protein powder…”

It’s comical to see Aomine having his eyes so bugged out of their sockets that they look like they might fall out with a nudge. But he doesn’t care—his mind’s racing so much, overclocking and overworking in trying to connect the dots at the scene he’s trying to register and comprehend.

“Where’s the shop again?” Kagami asks, scanning around for any sign that indicates “sweets” and “baked goods.”

“There.” You point ahead of you in a general direction, and Kagami, taking advantage of his height, easily spots the shop. What catches Aomine’s attention is how you wrap your other hand around his arm. What really bothers him though, is how nonchalant Kagami is at your touch.

“Come on.” Kagami snakes his hand to gently encapsulate your hand, the same one that casually wrapped around his arm moments earlier. Aomine’s breath gets caught in his throat, watching you two like a hawk. Kagami tugs your hand behind him as he leads you through the crowd, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

It shouldn’t be natural, though. It shouldn’t be Kagami holding your hand. It should’ve been—

(“And I’m not the guy for you, either.”)

Yeah, Aomine knows that he sure as hell ain’t the guy for you. But Kagami? Of all people? Aomine grits his teeth watching you two. He’s sure as hell that Kagami isn’t the one for you either. He would even rather prefer Kuroko being by your side like this than him… But he can’t deny how Kagami does a better job at making you happier than he himself could ever do. You’re in good hands, and he doesn’t have to worry about any potential asshats bothering you at Seirin, or anywhere for that matter from now on.

So why… Why does his heart continue to pound so hard when he sees how gentle his rival is with you? Why isn’t his chest letting up? Why does he feel like his windpipes are constricted? His mouth is parted like a fish, his body motionless, his new shoes forgotten. He doesn’t move until you’re no longer in his line of vision, completely swallowed up by the crowded lines and mobs of other shoppers.

Did Tetsu know about this?

He finally closes his mouth, allowing himself to swallow, though his mouth is impossibly too heavy and dry to do so comfortably. Still leaned forward, he rests his elbows on his knees, his eyes opting to stare at the cracks and dried gum. His brain’s had enough from all the processing.

What the hell’s wrong with me?

This isn’t like him. You’re dating Kagami. So what? And he’s not a bad guy. He still has you as a friend, and it’s not like he didn’t lose you for good… right?

His body contradicts his rationalizing when his hand tingles against his will… as if it wants to be held by you. He clicks his tongue in annoyance, gritting his teeth before giving a despondent chuckle.

I’m pathetic, aren’t I… all this time, I’ve never realized that…

He sees a flash of your clothes before you disappear around the block, holding your dessert box to-go while still holding hands with Kagami.

… that what I wanted was…

“Dai-chan!” Momoi races to him after emerging from the crowd that you just came out of earlier. He looks up to face her. “I finally got myself their house special! Luckily for you, I got another one before they sold out! Here, be grateful!”

She hands him a daintily packaged box with a fork, and he opens it to face the popular strawberry mille-feuille. He stares at it.

“Uh… is there something wrong?” Momoi tilts her head at his unusual lack of scathing comments, slightly unnerved at his extended silence. Aomine stares at the dessert for a second longer before looking up to see her face contorting into an expression of worry. He averts his gaze.

(“Because I know you’re never honest about your feelings!”)

“... It’s nothing.”

[imaslutformaybank]

heyyy can you do an eli moskowitz imagine but i don’t really have a prompt so idk

new girl☼

A/N: hi! thank you for your request.  i’m sorry if this isn’t what you wanted, but i didn’t really have a lot to go off of, lmao.  anyways, thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy!

one shot, blurb, or head canon?: one shot

pairing: eli moskowitz x reader

warnings: fluff. that’s all.

wc: 1056

"have a good first day sweetie! text me at lunch and let me know how it’s going,” my mom said as i got out of her car.  i nodded.

“i will.  have a good day at work.  thank you for driving me.”

“of course.  i love you.”

“love you too, mom,” i said before shutting the door.  i watched as she drove away, taking a deep breath.

today is my first day starting at a new school, west valley high.  i walked into the huge school, looking around as i walked forward.  i made eye contact with a sweet-looking guy and walked over to him.

“hi, my name is y/n.  i’m new here and i was just wondering if you could show me to the principal’s office?”

“oh, uh, hi.  yeah, sure,” he replied, looking around. “follow me.”

i did as told, following behind him as he led me to the principal’s office.  once we got there, he stood beside the door, smiling lightly.

“thank you,” i said, stepping forward into the office. “oh, wait, i didn’t catch your name.”

“oh, i’m eli,” he replied.

“nice to meet you eli,” i smiled before heading into the office.

“alright, you’re all set!” the principal said as he stood up from his desk.  i followed his actions and smiled as he handed me my schedule.

“thank you.”

“have a great first day.  we’re glad to have you here.”

“thank you,” i said, leaving his office.  when i exited the tiny room, i saw eli standing against the wall.

“you waited?” i asked, a small smile sitting on my lips.

“oh, yeah, i just wanted to make sure you got to your first class alright,” he said.  

“oh thank you,” i said, looking at my schedule. “it looks like my first class is with... mr. smith?”

“that’s on my way to first period, i can take you there,” he said.

“great, thank you,” i said.  

as we walked down the hallway, we didn’t speak at all.  i wanted to start a conversation, but i didn’t know what to say.

“so, what period do you have lunch?” eli asked.  i looked at my schedule.

“um.. third period.  you?”

“i do too.  you can sit with me and my friends... if you want.”

“that would be great, thanks,” i said.  he smiled lightly before stopping at an open door.

“this is you,” he said.

“okay, thank you so much for showing me around.  i’ll see you at lunch?” 

“see you at lunch,” he smiled.  i walked into the classroom and sat in an empty seat.

after 2nd period, i walked into the cafeteria, looking around and hoping to see eli.  we locked eyes and he waved me over.  i smiled and made my way over to the table.  

“hi,” i said, setting my bag on the floor and sitting down.  the two other boys that were sitting at the table exchanged a look, confused as to who i was.

“this is y/n.  she’s new here,” eli said.

“oh.  well, hello,” one of the boys spoke, “i’m demetri.  this is miguel.” the boy sitting next to him waved and i smiled at him.  

“nice to meet you guys.  so, is there anything i should know about here?” i asked.

“well, you basically just murdered your social life by sitting with us,” demetri said.  i shrugged.

“sounds fine to me,” i said, causing eli to smile. “anything else?”

“well, there’s this halloween dance tomorrow.  think you’ll go?” miguel asked.

“oh, i don’t know about that.  i don’t have a costume for it.  what are you guys going as?” i asked.  

“i will be going as a necromancer,” demetri said, causing me to furrow my eyebrows.

“and that is...?”

“a really cool wizard basically,” he said.  i nodded.

“i’m just going as some super hero, my yaya made my costume,” miguel said.

“which superhero?” i asked.

“i’m not exactly sure,” he replied.  i shrugged and looked over at eli.

“how about you?” i asked.

“i’m going as a plastic surgeon,” he said.  i nodded.

“i don’t know, what do you guys think.  should i go?” i asked.  

“you should.  that way eli here has a date,” demetri said, wrapping his arm around his friend.  eli began to blush and dropped his head, causing me to smile.

“alright, i’ll go.  but you guys have to help me pick a costume,” i said.

“you seriously don’t have a costume?” miguel asked.  

“well, i have one for like.. passing out candy, but not for a dance.”

“what is it?” demetri asked.

“wanda from marvel.”

“that’s sick, you should wear that,” miguel said.  

“you think so?” i asked, looking between the three boys.  they all nodded their heads yes. “alright, guess i’m going to the halloween dance!” 

“hey, y/n!” demetri called my name as i walked into the cafeteria.  i smiled and waved, walking over to the boys.

“hey!” i said, "you guys look great.”

“thanks, you too,” miguel said.

“i have to go to the bathroom,” eli said, walking away from us quickly, causing me to furrow my eyebrows.

“what’s up with him?” i asked.  miguel and demetri shared a look.  

“don’t,” miguel said to demetri.

“what’s going on?” i asked.

“he’s probably a little nervous.  he has a little crush on you,” demetri said.  my jaw dropped.  he is pretty cute... and sweet.

“really?” i asked.

“oh yeah.  he wouldn’t stop talking about you yesterday,” he said, causing me to blush.

“i’ll be right back,” i said, leaving the cafeteria and heading toward the bathrooms.  

i leaned against the wall as i waited for eli.  when he came out, i tapped his shoulder.

“hey,” i said.

“oh, hey,” he replied.

“demetri just told me something pretty interesting,” i said, causing him to furrow his eyebrows.

“what did he say?”

“he told me you have a crush on me.  is that true?” i asked.  he looked down at the ground.

“um.. well, sort of,” he replied.

“hey,” i said, causing him to look up.  i slowly pulled down the mask he was wearing and pressed a soft kiss against his lips.  when i pulled away, there was a shocked/amused expression on his face.  i pulled away and stuck my hand out. “wanna go dance?” i asked.  he took my hand and smiled, nodding.

[sourwulf]

oh god i have a sad ask 😳 could u maybe do something where after stiles and the nogitsune became two separate beings, reader gets stabbed by the oni and dies but stiles finds her and comforts her as she slips away? like theyre not dating but they're really good friends? but then he has to carry you out to everyone else and they all react to your death?? if this is too depressing u dont have to write it but im a sucker for angst

༄  word count  —  788

፨  characters  —  stiles stilinski, scott mccall, isaac lahey

☓  tw  —  death, gore

⊹  cw  —  lots of sadness :/

☼ a/n — i don't write a whole lot of angst/sad stuff so forgive me if it's not great 😬

✎  masterlist

─

you ran through the empty halls of beacon hills memorial hospital, the lights flickering above you. being separated from stiles and everyone else was not ideal right now, considering the nogitsune and his oni were chasing you down.

as much as stiles was doing his best to keep you safe, you'd managed to get away from him without realizing, and you were on your own.

you stopped dead in your tracks when you turned a corner, seeing the familiar body of your best friend accompanied by a tall masked figure, but it wasn't him. it was another version of him, one that fed on chaos, strife, and pain.

“shit,” you whispered to yourself.

“nowhere to go now," said the nogitsune. he and one of the the oni began walking towards you, and you turned around to run back to where you came from, only to see the other oni at the end of the hall.

here you were, in the middle of an empty hospital floor, stuck with three supernatural beings trying to kill you.

the figure behind you suddenly stepped forward, and you felt a sharp pain through your back and into your stomach, warm liquid soaking your skin and dripping down your front.

you looked down, mouth agape, to see a blade sticking through your torso. you looked back up to see a smirk on the face of the creature posing as your best friend.

the blade was pulled out of you and all three of them faded into thin air, causing you to drop to your knees. you managed to crawl over so you were leaning back against the wall, painting a trail of blood behind you.

you placed your hand to the wound, pulling it away to see it was a deep red. you let out another tired ‘shit’, a tear sliding down your cheek.

it wasn’t long before you heard footsteps running toward you, looking up to see stiles and scott, both of them with a look of horror on their faces.

stiles immediately knelt in front of you, looking at your stomach.

“y/n...”

“it’s okay. i’m okay.”

“you’re dying.”

you gave him a small smile. “yeah.”

he reached over and gripped your hand, wrapping both of his around it. “i’m sorry.”

“for what?”

“i should’ve been here.”

just then, you shivered hard enough to send pain radiating through your stomach.

“here,” he said, taking his jacket off. you leaned forward and allowed him to drape it over your shoulders.

“thank you.” you started crying again, making him hold your hand again. “i didn’t think tonight would be the night. i thought i’d make it a little while longer. at least until all this is over.” you coughed and wiped your mouth, seeing blood on the back of your hand. “thank you guys for everything. you saved my life more times than i can count.”

“i’m sorry we couldn’t have done that tonight,” scott said, crouching down next to stiles, who had started crying.

you reached up and wiped his cheek with your clean hand.

“i’m just glad you’re here now. i didn’t want to die by myself.” you began feeling lightheaded, and your vision slowly got foggy. “i love you guys, you know?”

you’d told them both you loved them in platonically many times. but this time was different. this time would be the last either of them heard it.

and within the next minute, you were lifeless. your head fell forward, your eyes closed, and your limbs relaxed. it was silent for a moment before stiles leaned forward, pushed your head back, and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

scott reached over and placed his hand on his best friend’s shoulder, who wiped his nose with the back of his wrist.

“we can’t just leave her here,” stiles said. “we can’t leave her body.”

“we can take her.”

—

neither of them wanted to step outside. neither of them wanted their friends to see your lifeless body, which was covered in blood. neither of them wanted anyone else to suffer.

but they knew they had to bring you with them. so scott pushed and held the door open for stiles, who was carrying you bridal style. he was numb, a dark cloud of sadness hanging low over his head.

isaac was the first to notice you. and being your closest friend, he was also the first of them to cry. he ran over, asking what happened.

he wanted to scream. he wanted to kill something — or someone. he wanted to get justice for you, for everyone who’d been killed by the nogitsune.

and that’s exactly what everyone set out to do, while your body laid comfortably in the backseats of stiles’ jeep.

[ilguna]

Expired Medicine Pls! Bucky & #5?

☼ left behind but never forgotten (Bucky Barnes) ☼

warnings; swearing, death, death mention, gun use, grenade use, fighting, injuries.

wc; 3.5k

prompt; 5. "I'll come back for you, I promise."

notes; spoilers for captain america the winter soldier.

--

 The halls of the hospital are busy, swarming with doctors and nurses. They flip through pages of documents, some of them dodging in and out of rooms. If there’s any bad time to be on a mission, it’s now. In a place that’s supposed to be secure and safe from danger. 

You told Steve that you’d come inside by yourself to retrieve the flash drive, but he didn’t trust you, wanting to make sure that he got it, himself. So, you follow behind him, letting him lead the way. He has his navy blue hood pulled up to block the view of his blonde hair and to shadow some of his more notable features. You know that he wants to avoid drawing attention, but you think it makes him look more suspicious than not. 

His pace comes to a slow pace as he stops in front of the vending machine. On the way, he told you that he put the flash drive behind three sticks of bubblegum while the employee was stocking it. He wanted it here for safe keeping because he’d gone back with some of the SHIELD members. And with Fury’s warning, he didn’t want to take any chances. 

You come up beside him, looking over his shoulder. Your eyes search the entire machine, looking for the aforementioned bubblegum. You even take a step back to get a bigger picture, but you come up with nothing. 

You glance at Steve. “This is a problem.”

“I know.”

The sound of popping behind you makes you turn to see where it’s coming from. It’s Natasha, loudly chewing the pink gum, eyes switching between you and Steve. He lets out an annoyed sigh before he steps at her, placing a firm hand in the middle of her chest to push her into the empty room across the hall.

The door opens with a slam as the blinds rattle against the glass.

“So much for not drawing attention.” You mutter, reaching to close the door behind you.

Steve pushes Natasha against the nearest wall, trapping her with one hand as he pulls off his hood with the other. “Where is it?”

“Safe.” She says.

“Do better.” 

“Where did you get it?” She counters.

“Why would I tell you?”

You glance out the window, watching another medical staff member pass by, completely oblivious of the three of you.

“Fury gave it to you. Why?” Her eyebrows are drawn in.

“What’s on it?”

“I don’t know.” She shakes her head.

“Stop lying.” Steve tells her.

“I only act like I know everything, Rogers.” She says, as if it’s obvious.

Steve looks over his shoulder at you, maybe for assurance. Or to make sure that you’re standing nearby. When he looks back at Natasha, you step in closer. “I bet you knew Fury hired the pirates, didn’t you?”

Natasha’s mouth opens, no words coming out for a second while she thinks of a response. “Well, it makes sense. The ship was dirty, Fury needed a way in, so do you.”

Steve grabs her shirt. “I’m not gonna ask you again.”

“I know who killed Fury.” She finally says, Steve’s grip loosens. “Most of the intelligence community doesn’t believe he exists. The ones that do call him the Winter Soldier. He’s credited with over two dozen assassinations in the last fifty years.”

“So he’s a ghost story.” You say, shaking your head. 

“Five years ago, I was escorting a nuclear engineer out of Iran. Somebody shot out my tires near Odessa. We lost control, went straight over a cliff. I pulled us out. But the Winter Soldier was there. I was covering my engineer so he shot him straight through me.” She pulls up the bottom of her shirt, revealing a scar on her left side, a few inches away from her bellybutton. “Soviet slug. No rifling. Bye-bye, bikinis.”

“Yeah, I bet you look terrible in them now.” Steve remarks.

She gives him a halfway smile before it drops. “Going after him is a dead end. I know, I’ve tried.” She pulls out the flash drive from her pocket, holding it up between them. “Like she said, he’s a ghost story.”

“Well, let’s find out what the ghost wants.” Steve backs off of her, moving so that you can see them both. “Are you still in?”

“‘Course I am.” You cross your arms over your chest. “This sounds like fun.”

—

If you’d known you’d end up in a car, squished between Natasha and a HYDRA agent, you think you might’ve told Steve that he could figure this out on his own. It probably wouldn’t have gone over well. He might’ve even begged you a little bit to change your mind, but with Sam here, there’s really no need for you to be.

“Natasha, why don’t we switch spots?” You ask, eyeing Sitwell for another moment before looking at her. “I don’t feel comfortable sitting next to him. I think this is more your specialty.”

She gives you an amused look. “I told you not to get in the car first.”

Sitwell blinks, drawing his attention from the cars passing you by on the freeway, to you. “Afraid all that training is going to fail you?”

Your eyes narrow, “No.”

He sighs. “HYDRA doesn’t like leaks.”

“Then why don’t you try sticking a cork in it?” Sam retorts, looking at him in the mirror.

Natasha leans over you to speak to Steve, who’s sitting in the passenger seat. This pushes you closer to Sitwell. “Insight’s launching in sixteen hours. We’re cutting it a little bit close here.”

“I know. We’ll use him to bypass the DNA scans and access the helicarriers directly.”

“What? Are you crazy?” Sitwell asks, eyes wide. “That is a terrible, terrible idea.”

A loud thud on the roof of the car makes it cave in a little. You only have enough time to glance up, before the window shatters next to Sitwell, sending glass flying all over the interior of the car. You shield your face, feeling the glass pelt your jacket and jeans, before landing on the now-empty leather seat.

Sitwell is gone, he screams briefly as he’s thrown into oncoming traffic on the other side of the concrete barrier, where he’s hit by a honking truck. You watch as a gun appears in front of the open window, the safety being turned off, before being pulled away.

Natasha leaps from the back seat to the front, landing in Steve’s lap as she pulls his head down. A bullet pierces the leather where she had just been, you slide there as another bullet slams in your seat. With two hands on the back of your head, you duck, listening as two more shots are fired.

When you raise your head, you catch Steve reaching forward to the emergency brake, yanking it back. The brakes screech against the asphalt, slamming the car to a hard stop. The man that had been on top of the car flies from the roof, somersaulting in the air so that he lands on a knee pad and a singular arm. A metal arm.

“What the fuck.” You breathe, watching as he dislodges his hands from the asphalt to rise to his feet. 

For a few seconds, it’s a stand-off, as the cars around you weave in and out of the lanes to avoid hitting the car you’re in. Natasha tries to whip out her gun to shoot at him, but an armored truck hits you from behind, making you jerk forward, forcing the car in his direction.

He jumps, landing back on the roof. Sam slams on the brakes, trying to stop, but the truck is too strong. A metal arm comes flying through the windshield, fingers wrapping around the steering wheel, breaking it off.

“Shit!” Sam screams.

Natasha tries shooting at the roof, but the Winter Soldier jumps off, onto the truck behind you. You turn, wanting to keep your eyes on the threat, and find him on the hood of the armored vehicle. 

“He’s accelerating!” You shout.

The trunk crumples further as you’re rammed again, this time throwing the car off course. It turns, wheel running up the side of the barrier, before forcing you back on the freeway. The car begins to wobble from side to side, growing more violent by the second.

Steve pulls up his shield, placing it on the passenger door. “Hang on!” He shouts, grabbing Natasha. 

The car begins to twist, you reach for the window that Sitwell had been forced out of, grabbing the edges and pulling up as you go airborne. Steve, Natasha and Sam must escape together out of the door, because when you look down to launch yourself out, they’re gone.

And so are you.

You cross your arms over your chest with fists, holding on tightly to the body of your jacket while you’re thrown into the air. You gain several more feet, and in that time, you duck your head, ankles locked together, until you come crashing down to Earth.

With the world being one giant dizzying blur, you have to guess how far away you are from the freeway. You hesitate, waiting for the best possible moment to land without hurting yourself. Unfortunately, it’s a second too long, because when you throw out your left foot to throw you into a roll, you land on it sideways.

The pain is immediate, but it takes up the back of your mind as you hit the concrete, rolling for several feet. When the momentum is gone, you sit upright, clutching at your ankle, eyes searching for your friends.

You find the overturned car, and then Natasha and Steve, who are still sitting on his Captain America shield. Beside you is Sam, who’s eyeing your ankle, worried. You’re more focused on the Hydra vehicle, and the fact that the Winter Soldier now holds a grenade launcher.

In one solid move, you grab the front of Sam’s shirt, throwing him down as a grenade is sent in your direction. Steve holds up his shield, intending to deflect the explosion, but he ends up triggering it instead. The blast sends him ricocheting off of a car behind him, and over the side of the overpass.

You jump to your feet while you can, ignoring the piercing pain in your ankle as you try to run to hide behind the van. Sam is right beside you, you can feel his hand on your lower back, but then it’s gone, as he goes to hide behind the silver car a few feet back. 

Natasha glances at you, gun in her hand. “Got any tricks up your sleeve?”

“Not really.” You tell her.

She pops up, shooting back at the HYDRA agents that are slowly advancing in your direction. You look back at Sam, and watch as he makes a run for it down the freeway. You suck in a breath, springing up to hurl yourself over the side of the barrier. A car whizzes by, and Natasha lands next to you.

You swear the whole bridge shakes when another grenade explodes. 

She grabs your hand, passing one of her guns over. “I’ll distract him, you shoot when you get the chance.”

“Just to be clear, this is the Winter Soldier, right?” You ask.

Natasha makes a grave face, nodding. When there’s a break in the gunfire, she crosses three lanes of traffic, rolls over a car, only to be thrown off the side of the bridge when he launches a bomb.

A car comes to a screeching halt a foot or so away from you, inadvertently shielding you from the enemy. You turn to the left, climbing on your hands and knees while you try to get a better spot to shoot. It’s eerily quiet for several seconds, you slowly creep up to look over the wall, finding him aiming below the bridge.

When you’re sure that the HYDRA agents aren’t watching, you stand up, popping the safety off. You hold up the gun, aiming for the back of the Winter Soldier’s head. And right as you go to pull the trigger, a shot is fired, his head whipping to the side. When he turns to drop down, you can see that Natasha got him in the goggles.

He pulls them off, fist tightening around the black material. Then, he gets back up, spraying bullets at Natasha in response, pissed. They get into a brief gunfight, where you wait for the better opportunity to shoot.

As soon as the other HYDRA agents get to their feet, you fire. They’re solid shots on all three of them. So solid and precise, that they’re dead as soon as the bullets hit their bodies. You let out a breathy laugh, surprised that you still have that in you, but the celebration is gone when the Winter Soldier begins to turn.

You hit the cement, but you must be the least of his worries, because he doesn’t come after you. When you’re sure of this, you get back to your feet and over the barrier to retrieve one of the HYDRA guns from the bodies. You find a hook embedded into the hood of a car, attached to a thick black wire that hangs over the side of the overpass.

First, you check to make sure that there’s not an agent attached at the bottom. Then, you attach the gun to your body with the strap to keep it on you. After you’ve pulled your jacket sleeves over your hands, you slide down the wire, joining Steve, Natasha and the Winter Soldier below.

Except, there is no one.

You stand in the middle of the street, eyes sweeping the area, but all you’re coming up with are civilians running away. You head toward the anger to start, keeping a sharp eye out for any of the HYDRA agents that might be lurking around nearby. 

There’s a distant sound of gunfire, followed by an explosion. You pick up the pace, jogging down three blocks before you’re met with a busy intersection. You hoist the gun up, one eye peering through the scope before you pull the trigger.

The Winter Soldier moves, making you miss by barely an inch. Steve runs at him to keep him from shooting back at you, swinging the shield up in time to block his punch, causing the metal to sound like a gong. Steve gets kicked off of the car, landing on the road, where he covers himself with the shield. 

The enemy rolls off the car, pulling out a machine gun to shoot at Steve. When the bullets run out, Steve swings himself over the top of the car, foot knocking the gun out of his hand. You reload the rifle, waiting for the right moment to shoot, while they engage in hand-to-hand combat. 

He shoots, they go back and forth with the punches, and block. The gun is put away, Steve is twisted out of the shield, now in the Winter Soldier’s grasp. It’s placed between them to keep a distance, but eventually yanked from Steve’s rip as the HYDRA assassin uses it to his advantage.

When there’s a pause, you go to pull the trigger, until the shield comes flying in your direction.

You jerk to the side, watching as the shield lodges into the back door of a white van behind you. With wide eyes, you look back at Steve, only to find him fighting once more. You reach, yanking the shield free, and also retrieving your gun as you move closer.

Steve seems to have a knife now. He tries to take multiple stabs, but ultimately it’s taken from him, and he ends up dodging once more. The Winter Soldier makes the mistake of swinging over Steve twice, allowing him to counter with a hook and a kick. The soldier slams back into a car, Steve runs at him, slamming him into it further, causing the door to dent and the glass to break.

He goes in for a punch once again, but the Winter Soldier blocks it, backing Steve away as he tries to fight back. Steve flips him over, standing over him for just a second, before the Winter Soldier grabs Steve’s neck, squeezing.

You let the gun hang against your chest, fixing the shield in your hand. You swing back, and then launch it forward. Steve’s eyes dart to it, ticking off the Winter Soldier, so he throws Steve over the hood of a car, turning just in time to grab the shield before it hits him. By then, you’re firing bullets, watching as they bounce off of the metal.

The gun jams.

“Shit.” You pull it off of you, hurling it in his direction. He catches it in his metal hand, clenching his fist around the material, breaking it.

He turns his attention back to Steve, who’s on the other side of the car. They go back to fighting, you continue to advance, a little annoyed that he doesn’t see you as a threat enough. He pulls out a knife, going to stab Steve, but the metal pieces a grey van, slicing the paint vertically.

Steve grabs the Winter Soldier, throwing him back to get him off, and swiping the shield in the process. The enemy swings, hits metal. He swings again with the knife, hitting metal. The Winter Soldier punches Steve successfully, trying to kick but he’s met with the shield, so he swings again.

Steve slams the shield into the metal arm of the Winter Soldier, and then forces it up, hitting him in the face. Steve wraps his hand around the mask, flipping him over backward, but it's too much momentum, because the Winter Soldier somersaults.

You walk around the truck, going to join Steve, finding the black mask lying on the asphalt. The Winter Soldier rises, back to you at first, until he slowly turns his head, allowing you to see what he looks like.

The blood runs from your face, lips parting as your eyes lock on. 

Bucky.

He looks… different, but not in the bad sense. His dark hair is messily long, just barely reaching his shoulders. When in the past he’s kept it shorter, cleaner. There’s a shadow of a beard forming on the lower half of his face. And there’s this emotionless void in his eyes, as if he’s looking right through you.

This can’t be him, though. The last time you saw him… 

Steve stands up, panting through his teeth. “Bucky?”

“Who the hell is Bucky?” He asks, turning toward the two of you fully. 

He pulls up his gun to shoot at either of you, but Sam kicks him over, sending him tumbling over the asphalt. That small move does basically nothing, as Bucky gets back to his feet, you take a step toward him, even when he goes to shoot again, but you’re interrupted by a grenade flying over Steve’s shoulder.

A red truck explodes. You look behind you to see Natasha, barely holding herself up against a car with the grenade launcher. Bucky is nowhere to be seen.

There’s sirens approaching, presumably the police, a firetruck, a couple of ambulances, but all you see are black SUV’s approaching. Your eyes catch a figure disappearing into an alleyway.

“I’m going after him.” You dig into your pants pocket, pulling out the singular smoke bomb that you’d brought with you.

Before Steve can stop you, you pull out the pin, tossing the bomb in the middle of the intersection. In the matter of seconds, the grey haze is taking over the street, concealing your escape. Either Steve is too shocked or knows better than to go after you, because he stays there with your other two friends, letting you run off.

Your ankle is slowing you down, but that doesn’t make you stop. You chase Bucky down several streets until he jumps out from behind a car, fist swinging at your face. You catch it, fingers wrapping around his hand, eyes boring into his.

The two of you stand like this for a very long second. If he knows who you are, he’s doing a very good job of hiding it, because you’re none the wiser. If you had to guess what happened to him, you’d say Zola experimented on him. And you think that Steve would even agree with you.

He tries to punch you with his metal arm, but you block it with your forearm, holding him there for a second longer. You can’t do this, not here. He’s not stable enough to have a conversation, especially since he was trying to kill you. He is trying to kill you.

“I’ll come back for you, I promise.” You tell him, despite knowing that this means nothing to him. “I’m not letting you go so easily, Bucky.”

--

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

[sunsworded]

tags.