#describe him in two words: me: hella green

[ikamigami]

This AU isn't mine, it belongs to @garbagechocolate and it's called @dcandyland !

It's not love,

it ain't obsession,

I just really wanna taste ✨YOU✨

Rating: T (mild language)

TW: wet dream, self-pleasure, nudity mention, slight gore, blood, swearing, vomiting, cannibalism (I hope I didn't forgot about anything if so let me know)

I let myself describe some things in the mansion (I hope it's okay).

Sorry if there are any language mistakes or some sentences don't make any sense, also let me know.

And sorry that I only did sketches but I wanted to add something!

I hope you'll enjoy it @garbagechocolate !

Sundae rarely laid down. He was always full of energy. Almost as if he had an infinite source of it. He didn't like being still for too long. So it was even more rare for him to fall asleep. But there were a few occations or to be more accurate a few occurrences of him sleeping. And when that rare occurrence happened Sun was dreaming about some of the most... casual things. Once he dreamed about dancing naked in the middle of the candy corn field and Moon was throwing kids' flesh at him while sitting on a wrecking ball which was attached to who knows what but Sun didn't care about that. He was soaking in kids' blood wheezing manically like he was high on some crack. The other time he dreamed that entire population of Candyland was communicating by twerking which somehow ended up with such misunderstandings which brought apocalypse upon whole Candyland. Another time Sun dreamed that very big hand was reaching from the sky and was taking big chunks of candy from the Candyland which he concluded as truth some time ago because there was no way the kids would be able to eat that much in short span of time. He wasn't dumb. He was actually hella smart thus he knew that what he was thinking had to be true. But he's never shared this knowledge with anyone because sometimes others were thinking that he's weird which ain't true at all.

But there was one dream that was reoccurring to him from time to time which wasn't a lot of times considering how rarely Sun slept. It actually occurred to him only two times before and now was the third time. This dream always went the same maybe with some small changes but the outcome was the same nonetheless.

Sun knocked on chocolate biscuit door to Y/N's room. He waited for a positive response.

- Come in... - he could barely hear the words but he read that as a welcome and creaked the door open.

He peeked inside. Y/N were lying on a bed made of fruitcake, reading something. Sun felt sudden rush of adrenaline at this sight. He was eyeing their friend for awhile till Y/N's gaze met with his.

- What do you want? - Y/N raised an eyebrow slightly irritated at Sun for looking at them in complete silence for couple minutes.

Sun didn't respond though so Y/N got back to the lecture. He kept looking at Y/N. The short green dress Y/N was wearing exposed their smooth, pert thighs which had to harbour young fresh and juicy meat underneath the skin. Sun's heart skipped a bit at that thought. His gaze shifted up towards Y/N's small delicate hands. He started thinking about how Y/N's hands were so warm. Probably because of good blood circulation. He imagined how one cut could make Y/N's blood flow like a river. It'd probably taste sweet with a little bit of bitterness from their sweat mixed in. Sun felt another rush of adrenaline. Then his gaze shifted towards Y/N's neck. Smooth skin with slightly peeking veins make him weak in his knees. Y/N has grown up so well... Sun's intense gaze started to get on Y/N's nerves so they put their lecture aside on a nightstand made of dark chocolate and they looked at Sun visibly irritated.

- What do you want..? And why are you standing there in a silence.. looking.. - Y/N couldn't even finish the sentence because Sun approached them very fast being inches away from them. - ..Sun..?

Sun still wasn't responding. He took Y/N's hand and rolled them onto the bed so Y/N was now lying and he's sat himself atop them while grabbing Y/N's second hand. He looked intensely into Y/N's beautiful eyes in which he felt he could drown. - H-hey.. - Y/N could only give a small reply. Sun was consuming Y/N with his gaze for awhile till he licked his own lips. Y/N felt like shiver went down their spine. Then to Y/N's shock he lowered his head till it was inches away from Y/N's face and he licked their cheek. Y/N's body heated up slightly. - Wh-what are you doing..? - they blushed nervously not knowing what Sun was up to with all of this. Then he finally spoke up in the most intimidating and deep voice Y/N ever heard him speaking.

- I just wanted to taste you... - Sun whispered breathing heavily onto Y/N's face. He felt like his own body heated up after he licked their friend's cheek. It tasted so sweetly. Y/N started shivering slightly still blushing but deeper with passing time. He realised that Y/N was now lying naked only covered in mint leafs. He didn't remember undressing them but it didn't matter to him that much.

- Taste me, huh..? - Y/N laughed nervously blushing heavily. - But don't you think that's unfair.. considering how I can't eat you... - Y/N sounded a little bit offended but not truly because it seemed that Y/N was enjoying this. The last part they whispered sheepishly looking at Sun with passion and desire.

- You can eat one of my cones, I don't mind it at all... - Sun responded purring into Y/N's ear. It wasn't the fairest trade but whatever. He broke off one of his cones and shoved it in Y/N's slightly opened mouth. While Y/N couldn't say anything with full mouth, he shifted his face towards Y/N's shoulder and dug into their flesh, biting off a good chunk of Y/N's young and tender meat. Blood was dripping from Sun's mouth when he started chewing a part of Y/N.

At first it tasted so sweet and the meat was so tender it was basically melting in his mouth. He felt like ecstasy started filling his whole body. He started shivering slightly from excitement. But the longer he chewed Y/N's meat, the harder and crunchier it got. "Weird..?" He thought to himself. Suddenly the taste of flesh changed from fresh into rotten within a seconds. Sun's face twisted in disgust and a few moments later darkened due to sudden realisation that Y/N's meat tasted like... candy! He felt extremely intense urge to puke it all out.

Sun woke up with a jolt and sat up straightly very quickly. He spat out whatever he had in his mouth. He still could feel the awful taste at his tongue. He looked at his hand. His eyes widened at the sight. There were fragments of chewed up candy mixed with his saliva. He looked behind himself and saw that he bit off good chunk of his toffee pillow. He made a disgusted face and looked at his hand once again. His sticky saliva reminded him of the dream. The reminiscence of naked Y/N lying underneath him turned him on. Only then Sun realised that he was melty in his pants. He felt the sudden strong urge to put covered in his own saliva hand in there. He did that without thinking which turned him even more. Then he scooped out what had melted in his pants and shoved it with his whole hand into his mouth without a second thought.

When the taste of his own melted body hit his taste buds he realised what he has done. He bent over the edge of his bed and started vomiting till he felt lightheaded and started coughing. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! What the fuck am I doing?!" Sun insulted himself disgusted at what he had just done.

The shame mixed with utter disgust became so overwhelming that Sun climbed on the top of his bed and started banging his head onto the wall made from hard candy till he heard the loud crack. The pain he felt coming from his slightly shattered face made him come back to his senses a little bit. But the feeling of shame was still very strong. "Just forget about it, you stupid piece of candy!" Forget about the dream! Sun started rolling so hard on his bed trying to erase what had happened from his memory that he fell from it and bumped into a pool of his own vomits taking his pillow down with him.

The loud sounds coming from Sun's room caught Moon's attention. He walked in there abruptly, panting heavily as if he thought that something happened to Sun.

- Sun, what happened? - he said worryingly while immidiately catching Sun with his gaze. Sun was lying on the floor. - What are you doing? - Moon raised his brow at the sight, relaxing a bit. Sun looked fine. Nothing bad had happened.

- I- I had a nightmare..! - Sun said emphasizing the word "nightmare".

- O-okay... I don't really want to know! - Moon seemed a little bit confused at first but he firmly declined further explanations from Sun. After the one time Sun talked to him about his dream, Moon decided he had enough. Communication by twerking? Moon was asking himself sometimes what was going on in Sun's mind because he didn't have a clue sometimes. Moon's train of thought was cut off by Y/N's abrupt entrance.

- Hey, what's up? I heard some noise coming from Sun's room and thought he did something stupid again. - Before Y/N could make any remark towards Sun, Sun immidiately bounced up from the floor with the widest smiles on his face.

- Heelloo~! - Sun's smile stretched even more and he was looking intensely at Y/N.

"Why he's looking at me like he's pissed at something that I did?" Y/N thought to themselves. - Stop looking at me as if I took your meat, Sun! - Y/N pouted at Sun with slight irritation. But they annoyed face quickly changed into the one of confusion. Sun smile faltered slightly and his pupils shrunkened a lot.

- What a coincidence... - he whispered under his breath.

- What..? - Y/N looked at Sun confused by his behaviour. Their gaze quickly shifted towards the floor and they saw a mess there. They made disgusted face. - Nevermind! I'll be going! - Then Y/N left Sun's room without a goodbye. They didn't even look back at Sun.

But Sun was caught up in his own thoughts right now. "Stop looking... as if I took your meat... Took your meat... Took your meat... Took your meat took your meat took your meat took your meat took your meat took your meat..." Sun started breathing heavily then he started laughing first quietly than louder and louder. - Meat! Meat! Moon! Meat! Ho Ho Ho Ho Ho! - "My meat!" - Meat! Ho Ho Ho Ho! Meat! - "My meat!" - Meat! Moon! Meat! Ho Ho Ho Ho! - Sun was hopping in one place seemingly excited by something.

- Sun stop doing whatever you're doing and clean up the mess you did... - Moon really couldn't get Sun sometimes. He didn't even know how Sun did this mess in the first place. Moon only shook his head in disbelief and disapproval. - But I won't help with this... - Moon's gaze shifted down to Sun's pants. They were wet but Moon thought it was probably due to the vomits Sun fall onto. Moon only sighed heavily and left Sun's room just like Y/N did few moments ago.

- Okay! Okay! - Sun said happily. Moon demanding him to do something didn't irritate him this time. Because he was in a really good mood right now. - Hmm! Hmm! My meat~! - Sun started cleaning up the mess, humming to himself and giggling happily. He felt fulfilled after such a dream.

[mysteriesatthecoffeeshop]

Old Green Eyes and other Lores from the Chickamauga Battlefield

(Note from our hosts: We apologize for the quality of Episode 1 of our podcast - we are new to this and have since increased in quality and decreased in awkwardness. Thank you)

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

The Chickamauga Battlefield is located in the northern part of Georgia in a city called Fort Oglethorpe. If you ask around, locals will describe the area as "beautiful" and "serene" during the day, and I agree! During the summers - I recall looking out on the lush rolling fields, watching the tall grass sway with the wind. The sky is the brightest of blues, the sun is shining bright, but the canopy of trees keeps you tucked away from it's rays. The battlefield has some of my best memories.

The name "Chickamauga" is Cherokee in origin. The land originally belonged to a smaller branch of the Cherokee Nation known as the Chickamauga Tribe. Although there are many variations of the word Chickamauga - some historians believe that is comes from the word "Chicamaco" meaning "dwelling place by the water" - water, referring to the Chickamauga Creek (two short tributaries of the Tennessee River that run north and south) . However, many believe that the word actually means "River of Death". (Which is honestly very accurate as you will soon find out)

With the amount of people that come to battlefield to sight see (or you know - catch pokemon because every grave stone/ monument is a pokestop) It's hard to believe that this is (basically) a large graveyard that once was covered in the blood and corpses of soldiers. Evidence of a battle that is deep rooted in the history of the south. On September 20th 1863 - the last cannonballs were shot. The Confederacy had won after three hard days of hell on Earth. It was considered the first major win for the confederacy but it came at a cost - The Confederacy had 18,454 casualties while the Union had 16,170 casualties.

Note: Casualties = killed, wounded, missing, or captured

The Battle of Chickamauga was considered the second bloodiest battle of the Civil War (for the number of casualties) right after The Battle of Gettysburg.

So yeah the battlefield is hella haunted, and if you were to ask anyone from the area if they had any stories - most of them will.

My dad for instance - told me that there was a time in his life where he had to drive through the battlefield at around 4-5am every morning in order to get to work. Now, my dad doesn't scare easily at all, nor is he one to make up stories. According to him, shadows can be seen walking or dashing across the road, even if you have your high lights on.

Remember how I said earlier that there was a a canopy of trees there? Well because of that - it is pitch black at night and I have definitely been spooked a couple of times driving through (okay - it's not hard to spook me. Jump scares, no matter what it is, will always get me).

Another incident that had happened within my family was when my niece was about two or three years old. My sister in law and her mother decided to take her for a stroll in the battlefield. It was a beautiful day and they wanted to get some fresh air. This would be my niece's first time going to the battlefield as my sister in law and brother had just moved back home from being stationed in North Carolina. As they strolled past one of the open fields my niece began to giggle. This was odd to my sister in law as my niece was asleep in the stroller with a pacifier in her mouth just a few minutes prior. She brushed it off only for her to giggle again a few minutes later. She asked her what she was laughing at and the toddler's response was "Mommy. Look at all those silly people. They're so silly. They're all falling down." She lifted up her arm and pointed her her little finger out to the empty field. My sister and her mother high tailed it out of there. There was no way for a toddler to know or even understand what went on there, not to mention there had been no talk of the battlefield prior to this event. Could it be that she was watching a ghostly replay of civil war soldiers dying on the battlefield?

There are also other known beings in the battlefield other than shadows and apparitions:

Old Green Eyes The Lady In White The Headless Horseman Bodies in the Bloody Pond Another note to add is that the Civil War was not the only occurrence of death in the area:

So, does Chickamauga earn the name "River of Death"? Are these beings actually out there or is a whole city of people just seeing things? Find out more by listening to Mysteries At The Coffee Shop on Youtube, Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and more!

If you loved this article or video and want more, feel free to add us on social media:

This article was written by: Chalena K.

[captainderyn]

Tacka: An Intro (finally)

EDIT: THIS IS OUTDATED. EXPECT AN EDITED ONE AT SOME POINT. So awhile ago @therron-shan​ made a super awesome google sheet of character questions that I’ve wanted to do forever and I’ve finally done them! For Tacka boy, because I’ve never formally introduced him. 

Under a cut after the first bit because I went a little crazy.

Tacka (An Introduction)

Preliminary Info:

Name: Tacka Sutae

Nicknames: --

Alias(es): ---

Age: 19/20 depending

Born:  Whatever 3 years before 0ATC, is that 3BTC?

Gender: Male

Species: Mirialan

Affiliations:

Republic, Jedi Order, Corellian Resistance

Occupation:

He was a Jedi padawan, now he’s basically a rogue peacekeeper. Using his force sensitivity to help who he can, how he can.

Physical:

General Description:

Tacka is first and foremost intense. It doesn’t always show, but if you catch him in the right moment he watches everything around with with a burning intensity that’s near impossible to escape. Catch him when he’s angry--especially if it’s when someone or himself is threatened he’s almost feral. He’ll bare his teeth, his eyes will burn into you. But otherwise, he seems lonely, and young. Like he’s seen too much. Physically he’s unassuming, a tall kid, built like a runner. You wouldn’t think much of him unless you really paused to look.

Height: 5’ 9”

Weight: Somewhere around 168lbs? Not really sure. He was pretty scrawny in his young padawan days but now he’s built up some muscle and is a bit bigger than he was.

Hair: Dark brown hair kept in an undercut, kept long/floofy on the top.

Eyes: You can sit for hours and try to figure out if they’re gold or amber but you won’t be able to. They’re intense, and very expressive. You can read him like an open book in a single glance if he’s not careful.

Skin/Fur: He’s green. Hella green. No, he’s got olive-y/dark green skin that for the most part is pretty even (or as even as a teenager/young adults skin can be let’s be honest here)

Scars/Birthmarks/Etc.: He has a few little scars across his arms, knees, shoulders, ect from training incidents but no big ones. Hopefully it stays that way.

Tattoos/Markings: He has his miralan tattoos. On his face it’s a thick line across his nose horizontally with four alternating up facing/down facing triangles over the line, four pieces/squares making a diamond on his forehead, and a line from his lower lip to his chin with two lines extending diagonally from it on either side of his chin.

Cybernetics: ---

Handedness:

Tacka is right handed, though he’s not horribly inept at using his left hand for tasks as well.

Style:

He always kind of mimics his Jedi garb subconsciously tbh. His favored outfit of sorts is a black long sleeved shirt, a grey, thick fabric...wrap poncho thing. I don’t know guys it’s weird, it’s like a shirt that wraps but it doesn’t have sleeves and black pants, black boots. He kind of dresses like a hobo sith, damnit Tacka no wonder the Jedi didn’t take you back.

Other:

He walks like he’s trying not to draw attention to himself. Head down, hands in pockets. But he’s always listening, always watching in the force because he’s suspicious. Long strides, he gets where he needs to go, doesn’t linger, doesn’t pause, he might as well be a shadow.

Mental/Emotional:

Background/Backstory:

Tacka was taken from the Jedi as a very young child. Not by his parents consent, but because the Jedi needed Force sensitives and his family unfortunately had old ties to the Order from his father. They were on Alderaan at the time and the Jedi showed up, took him “peacefully” and he hasn’t seen his parents since. He was raised in the Jedi Temple on Tython and completed a majority of his training there. He spent a few weeks/months in the temple on Coruscant as an adolescent for a new environment experience but otherwise he’s lived and breathed the Jedi for his entire young life. At the age of 15 his master Dakhoel Faolan went rogue and went to Corellia to aid those oppressed by the Empire there. He followed, as he was beginning to chafe under the Order’s control over his life and the fact that they wouldn’t let him get in contact with his parents. After the war for Corellia, when his master was presumed killed and he was only 17, he drifted for a time. He spent a lot of time on Nar Shaddaa, where he was miserable, before finding his way to Rishi and finding his father figure Hugo and Hugo’s then girlfriend/something more (?) Nyrah’s neutral bar the Swamp. He spent a bit of time there before continuing on. He attempted to go back to the Order and was turned away due to being “tainted” by the dark side and being too grey in the Force to be able to trust him.

Personality:

Tacka is...hard to read. You can tell that he’s been through a lot at a young age but he hides a lot of his internal struggles and fears with a happy-go-lucky attitude and humor. He’s a kind soul, he wants to help but sometimes he does more harm than good. Tacka is the kind of person that is so loyal that he will let the world burn just to save on person and that is, problematic, when it comes to the Jedi. In his loyalty he will sometimes become a little blind to people’s flaws, case in point with his Master Dakhoel, he trusted her so much and was so attached to her that he couldn’t see that her fleeing the Jedi was for selfish purposes and based in paranoia. While for the most part he is happy-go-lucky it is very much a cover and deep down he is wired much of the time and always on high alert, is usually stressed and has a habit of overthinking things to the point of ramping himself up so much he can’t do the thing. When he’s angry...no, threatened, it’s like that cover fails completely and he’s very intense, quite powerful, and more than a little scary, like you’ve cornered a feral wolf.

Quirks:

At some point he acquires a leather type bracelet that has a significance that only he knows and when he’s nervous he will push the strap in and out of its keeper and shift it around his wrist.

Disorders:

----

Addictions:

----

Strengths: He’s quite powerful in the Force. Not “Wren” powerful, but more so than the other padawans he was training with. He’s quite good at not leaping into fights and at thinking things through. Is his sense of humor a strength? He’s always been praised for being good with people, even if he’s a bit on the more reserved side now, he was always kind of “that friendly dude” that you could go talk to no matter what.

Weaknesses: His wholehearted trust in people that he is loyal to is an unfortunate weakness. He’s caught in the grey area of unpredictability where he’s either 100% ready to fight right here right now and actually willing to think things through which has got him in a lot of trouble. Not really weakness but he’s kind of the “you fucked up a perfectly good (Jedi) is what you did, look at it, it’s got anxiety” thing.

Phobias/Fears: Failure, getting attached to someone, and following that--losing someone he’s close to, being seen as a disappointment, the assumptions that people make about him without him knowing has kept him up at night.

Hobbies: He hasn’t been able to do it for awhile but he likes games. Physical games like cards, holo games, just...games. Especially story games that he can get lost in. He likes doing that, telling stories. He’s no writer, but he likes building those sorts of worlds and scenarios and telling these elaborate fictitious tales. He’s also interested in and quite enjoys learning new forms of lightsaber techniques and such and just the physical training like that. It’s relaxing.

Interests: I kind of covered this above, oops.

Favorite movies: Space fantasy! Think Lord of the Rings but in space! Or Space!Marvel

Favorite music: Space alt rock, think The Score, AJR, things like that.

Favorite books: Space fantasy and the like.

Favorite TV shows: Something with substance, preferably not related to real life and not filled to the brim with needless drama.

Skills/Talents: I think I mentioned his people skills? He’s become pretty good at various lightsaber fighting styles. I’ve covered this a bit all throughout.

Habits: Stressing more than he should, pacing when he’s nervous/amped up, dragging his hands through his hair if he reaches Maximum Stress.

Morality/Ethics:

He’s really somewhere in between lawful good and neutral good on the alignment chart. He wants to do good and help others but sometimes can’t always act selflessly and will disregard the laws if he thinks he can do good by going against them.  

Goals:

He wants to find a new purpose in life, find a new home and someone that he can trust. He wants to move on from the Jedi and the conflict that haunts him from their rejection. He needs to reevaluate before deciding his new long term goals.

Motivations:

For the longest time it was his sense of loyalty and duty that motivated him. Now it’s his own personal drive that motivates him to try and find who he is without his Jedi now.

Other: According to the test he is an ENFP-T personality type. Which yeah, that actually makes a lot of

Relationships:

Sexual/Romantic Orientation: I can’t figure it out for him. He kind of likes everyone without really seeking anyone/feeling that drive around anyone.

Relationship History:  So the Jedi have really stifled any sort of attachment or romantic activity in their younglings...but that isn’t going to keep a bunch of hormonal teenagers from doing whatever the hell they want. He’s kissed and/or made out with both guys and girls, but he’s never really been in a committed relationship. Thanks Jedi.  He and another padawan were kind of running a friends with benefits dynamic, except not quite that. It’s complicated, there was a lot of “fuck the system” kissing in back hallways or closets.  I never said he was a good model Jedi.

Reputation: He has to know people to have a reputation. He’s got none. Except for maybe being one of the “hot guys” of the padawans lol.  

Family:

Rheya Sutae: Rheya is Tacka’s mother, who he barely remembers. She is a force sensitive mirialan who never had any formal training with a force sensitive faction. She is a smuggler by trade (the hardcore kind, not goody two shoes like Emeldir or neutral like Rielay). She had Tacka young, after what was supposed to be a not-so-serious fling with a Jedi who was deployed for diplomatic purposes on Alderaan where she was working under the table information and supply deals with the nobles, and she and said Jedi ended up decided to try and give this unexpected baby a somewhat stable life by settling together. Clearly that didn’t work.

Jaida Sutae: Tacka’s biological father, a Jedi Knight who was especially good at solving things by diplomacy and not so good at the fighting-to-kill solution, hence his placement on Alderaan to try and talk the Republic out of conflicts. Tacka wasn’t able to learn much on his father other than mentions of him by other masters and knights in the Temple. According to them his father was a lively and charming individual that could win people over with a single smile and was never really cut out to be a Jedi.

Hugo: A father figure to Tacka who he met on Corellia. An ex-Imperial slave from the Quesh venom mines that was acting as a field medic on Corellia and unfortunately was burdened with leadership of the resistance. Hugo and Tacka cared for each other deeply and it pained Tacka to leave the one father figure he had at the end of the war, but he had to go try and find his way in life. Hugo still to this day will greet him with open arms and nothing but happiness when he pops in to the Swamp.

Friends:

Well, there’s Phaedra. She’s my (not yet introduced) togruta Jedi who was a padawan at the same time he was, is a year older than he was, and they were best friends. They caused all manner of trouble together. Probably made a few Jedi masters retire with their antics tbh.

I’d like to say that I can consider Tacka and @skullinacowboyhat’s Sunny friends? She saved his butt on Nar and they’ve been stuck with each other since, had each other’s backs. He trusts Sunny, likes her and doesn’t feel like he has to be on constant alert. I’d consider her his first “friend” like that since before Corellia.

Dakhoel was someone he considered a friend. She was his master since he was ten years old and was nothing but kind to him. An Imperial raised miraluka, fled to the Jedi after getting off of Korriban. She was killed on Corellia. Tacka loved her dearly as well, as a friend, as a mentor.

Enemies:

Darth Xin: Aka, Wren Thornley. She was the one on Corellia who killed Dakhoel (and most of Coraaliya’s Havoc Squad) and very nearly killed Tacka. They’re enemies on the grounds that Tacka wants revenge for the death of his master. If they ever met it would be interesting at the very least, in a one on one fight Tacka would probably be killed, but Xin would try her hardest to try and twist him into joining the sith and taking him as her own apprentice because of his power in the Force. I don’t think he would ever fall that far. But he comes close, after the Jedi reject him.

Love Interest:

NONE! But he deserves someone to love and who will love him so hmu if anyone’s got ocs that want to smooch the green jedi boi.

Affiliations:

Jedi:

Rank:

Technically he never became a Knight. But by all requirements except the Council’s official naming him so, he is a Jedi Knight.

Master(s): Dakheol Faolan.

Apprentice(s): ---

Describe their lightsaber(s) and color crystal(s): Tacka uses a worn saber that belonged to his master on Corellia and after Corellia, with your typical blue color crystal. After being turned away by the Jedi (when he’s ~19 and wants to try and get stability in his life by returning to them) and their taking of his saber he found a somewhat broken, quite unstable double bladed saber in the black markets of Tatooine in his wanderings and repaired that. The color crystal is still weird though, he suspects it's broken but he hasn’t been able to find a replacement. It’s gold. Trying to wield the double bladed saber in its state is a bit like trying to wield a chainsaw and its taken him a lot of work to be able to fight with it as an extension of himself.

Specialization:

Were he in came I think he would honestly fall into a mixture of Jedi Guardian and Consular Shadow

Thoughts on the Order:

WELL he’s not their biggest fan. He thinks the Order is corrupt and has moved away from their own beliefs of goodness and doing good to try and pursue a moral righteousness that is twisted. He’s angry at them, as they’ve taken his entire childhood from him and then when he returned to try and serve again they rejected him because they thought he was beyond redemption or help.

Other Info:

He’s not a Jedi anymore, not really. He’s technically a deserter and a rogue.

Other Biographical Info:

Birthworld: Alderaan

Homeworld:

Right now he doesn't have a home. The closest he can think of is Rishi, but that’s really just a time to time home, where he’ll spend a few days at the Swamp with Hugo and Nyrah.

Familial Background:

I covered this earlier because I’m overzealous in my information, but his family is really just him and his parents. His mother is a smuggler who doesn’t have good relationships with any of her remaining family while his father--just like Tacka--was taken from his family by the Order at a very young age.

Other Info:

His tattoos on his arms and shoulders are based vaguely on what he can remember from his parents’ tattoos and his own design while the others on his face are based on things specifically from mirialan culture.  

[mrsbrekkers]

How bout a kaz brekker x blind!reader? 💓

okay so i have never written blind!reader before but but but BUTTT a good idea came to me involving reader being a grisha ( healer ) who had the gift to see someone and what they truly look like if they are physically allowed to be let in? it’s hard to explain, but y a

in this, reader and kaz have known one another for a good three in a half years, they work on heists together, and reader is usually partnered with kaz, as he wants to keep her safe. i S U C K at summaries. also, i was hella distracted while writing this, but it came out somewhat okay? f u c k.

pairings! kax x blind!reader

reader in this is female, but i will adjust accordingly if you’d like me too! just let me know! :)

warnings! really distracted writing, jordie, ptsd, blood, the typical soc stuff, kaz almost having a panic attack, but also him realizing he’s safe there with reader ye. 

i could so make this a series? like going through all the times blind!reader has made kaz come to trust her more and more. haha ha unless...

word count! 2847

ONE SHOT UNDER CUT

GLOVED INTERACTIONS

There were many descriptions given to Y/N about what Kaz Brekker looked like. What color his eyes were. What color his hair was. What his build was like. She could give you an accurate description of Jesper, Inej, Nina, Matthias, even Wylan was easy. But when it came to someone she couldn’t physically map out? She became a bit lost.

Being born without her sight, Y/N had to learn other ways to understand the world. Especially in a place like Ketterdam. Maybe that was why Kaz was quick to take Y/N under his wing. To keep her safe, just as he had with Wylan. But, Y/N wasn’t useless. Being a Healer, she was valuable to the Dregs. Nina was a powerful heartrender, but could only do so much when someone was inevitably hurt during jobs. That’s where Y/N was useful.

In a sense she had her sight, but it relied on physically being able to touch someone. A side-effect of being a Grisha, with abilities that no one has seen before. Her sight may have been gone, but being able to see one in her mind, whether it be blurry or clear, gave her an idea on what one looked like.

That meant Kaz was the most mysterious person to Y/N.

Y/N could describe most of the crows relatively well. Jesper had been the first to let Y/N use her ‘gift’ as Nina called it, with him. Her hands rested on his arms, slowly moving up to his shoulders, the other crows sitting around them to watch.

“You’re Zemeni, but I knew that already. Inej described you as long limbed, she wasn’t wrong.” Inej laughed a bit, shaking her head. “Lean, no surprise, I could make that out. Your eyes are a dark grey, but beautiful. I must say Jesper, you’re rather handsome. Being a handsome decoy seems like it should be a Jesper talent.”

Jesper smiled, looking down at Y/N. “Right on, almost to the dot,” he said, giving his best friend a chuckle.

“Your smile lights up a room. But I also knew that already,” Y/N added, tilting her head as she let her hands drop from Jesper’s shoulders. The crows around them were in awe, and then Nina was moving Jesper out of the way.

“Move handsome decoy, my turn,” She said, humming a bit as she sat in front of Y/N, making the Healer laugh. As she had with Jesper, Y/N ran her hands up Nina’s arms, stopping at her shoulders.

“Hmm, long curly brown hair, your heart beats a bit differently than the rest of our friends. Courtesy of being Grisha, and a Heartrender. You’re also a bit curvier than our friends, but as am I.” Nina smiled, glancing at their friends, who all seemed confused on how Y/N managed to do this.

“Green eyes, piercing almost. As always, like the rest of our friends, your smile lights up the room. But instead of Jesper’s toothy smile, you’re a closed mouth smiler, unless talking to Matthias of course,” Y/N smirked a bit, feeling Nina’s body heat up told her that the Heartrender was indeed, blushing.

Then slowly, all of the crows sat in front of Y/N. Except for Kaz, which Y/N understood. She didn’t pry, but she did begin to wonder what he truly looked like. There were so many conflicting descriptions. Obviously the ones given from people who didn’t like him weren’t taken into account, because most of them consisted of calling Kaz ‘The Grinch’. And while this was probably a good term for his lovely personality, it didn’t seem like it’d match his looks. Kaz wasn’t green after all.

But after a particularly rough job, one that ended with almost everyone scuffed up in some way, shape, or form, Y/N was working herself to the bone. Inej had the worst of it, so Y/N worked on her first at the Slat, and upon finishing, she had Nina sit next to the sleeping Wraith. She stood, huffing as she climbed the stairs to Kaz’s room. He was always the least willing to be healed. He always claimed he was the least beat up, or he could handle it himself.

This time, Y/N knew he wasn’t the least beat up. She’d heard about the gash running up his arm, and the scratches lining his face, which were less than pretty. Entering the room, she crossed her arms.

“I’m fine,” Kaz spoke first, earning a scoff from Y/N.

“I’ve heard plenty from Jesper about how nasty the gash on your arm is, and how your leg has been worse than usual. I can’t heal a bone that’s healed incorrectly, but I can ease the pain,” Y/N stated, moving to stand in front of the desk. Why was Kaz so damned stubborn about things like this? It concerned the Healer. Did he find himself so unlovable that he believed he deserved the pain when he was hurt?

“How are you going to count your Kruge if your arm is cut wide open?” Y/N asked, tilting her head. That made Kaz sigh. She wasn’t wrong about that. It also meant problems during other aspects of his job.

“Fine,” Kaz said reluctantly. He watched Y/N round the table, his eyes mainly on her fingers that softly glided the desk, letting her know when to turn. He’d always found it fascinating how she managed so much without her sight. Mainly how she found her ways around. The way her fingers would move so smoothly across surfaces. Or how graceful she seemed. It was hard to fascinate Kaz Brekker, but she did it effortlessly.

“I won’t touch you, but I’m going to need to be guided to where the gash is,” Y/N spoke, now standing in front of Kaz, who gulped with a shaky nod. He trusted her. He trusted all of his Crows, but her the most. She’d been there when the Crows were down bad. She brought smiles to the team without fail. Kaz could remember the first time they’d met, when his fascianation had started.

The night had been cold, dark. As Ketterdam usually was. After a few months of Kaz having Inej watch over the Healer that lived near the university district, Inej had come to Kaz with news that the Healer, Y/N, had noticed her. It had rendered the Bastard of the Barrel speechless. Someone had noticed Inej Ghafa?

“How did she notice you? Nobody notices you. Even I didn't for the first time, and I notice everyone,” Kaz stated, his tone confused.

“I believe our Healer is blind. It would make sense then, all of her other senses would be on high alert, especially her hearing. Even the most silent aren’t silent to the blind. They notice everything, Kaz. I’m surprised she didn’t notice me earlier,” Inej said, her arms crossed as she leaned in the doorway between the bedroom and the small office.

Kaz stalled for a moment, humming in consideration. It would explain how Inej had been found out. What that didn’t answer was whether Y/N knew who they were. He doubted it, but you could never be sure in Ketterdam.

“Did she know who you were?”

“I’m not sure, I left before things escalated. She said she knew I was there and to reveal who I was and who I worked for. So she knows I’m not some random in Ketterdam. I’m sure she could figure out enough if I’d appeared before her,” Inej said before looking back at the window. She knew she wasn’t followed, she always checked for such. But with the revelation that someone, for once, had noticed her, it wasn’t unlikely that maybe she’d been followed.

Kaz huffed, realizing he’d have to now go and explain to this Healer about how he’d been watching over her for the past few months. He wasn’t even sure why he’d been doing so. Well, he did, she’d be a good asset to have later if he ever decided to actually let it be known that he’d been keeping her safe. It was time that’d present a new reason.

Arriving at the small apartment that the Healer lived in, Kaz knocked Inej behind him, and when the door opened, his dark eyes landed on Y/N.

“I was waiting for you guys to show up,” Y/N said, turning and allowing the two inside.

“You knew we’d come?” Inej asked, entering the small apartment and sitting where Y/N offered, taking the small cup of tea she was handed. For being stalked for the past few months, the Healer was being rather kind.

“I suspected it was The Wraith watching over me for some time. I have learned to feel different presence’ around me. Yours, while I didn’t notice it at first, I began to when one of my papers went missing and was replaced with a forged one,” Y/N said, sitting next to Inej.

“How did you know it was forged?” Kaz asked, raising an eyebrow. Not that Y/N could see that, but his tone, his voice did the accenting for him.

“Kaz Brekker I presume. The handwriting wasn’t my own. I don’t have terrible handwriting, I’ve practiced for years after all, but my handwriting is not that nice. And the paper wasn’t the kind of paper I used. It was a close second, yes, but the letters weren’t able to be felt. That’s when I realized it was forged. It was a good forgery, but I’ve lived in Ketterdam long enough.” That’s when Kaz’s fascination started.

Or maybe it was when Inej had announced someone had noticed her. Nonetheless, that was the day he decided to recruit Y/N officially. It wasn’t hard either, considering she was rather willing too as long as she wasn’t indentured to the Dregs.

“I won’t go with if I’m going to be paying you back for the rest of my life,” Y/N stated, sipping her tea. Oh, and she had to bring her cat. Jesper now called the cat the Crows mascot. Which, the other’s had found weird. It was a cat, not a Crow, but they had changed the name of the cat to Crow. Which made the rest of the gang agree on it. Even Kaz found the cat enjoyable.

That was three years ago.

Since then, Y/N hadn’t let Kaz down once. He’d grown to trust her as he did Inej, even more so as she became his shadow. The person in his corner, his partner. He trusted his shadow.

Sighing, Kaz shook his head, looking over at Y/N and glancing down to her hands. “Left arm, right above my elbow,” he said, watching her fingers flex before moving to hover over the gash that covered a good part of Kaz’s upper arm.

“You know, I still don’t know what you look like,” Y/N said as she healed to gash slowly, making sure the work was intricate and done correctly.

“Brooding, dark, nothing else really to me,” Kaz said, but Y/N shook her head, finishing the gash and humming a bit. She moved her hand slowly up to Kaz’s face, doing a quick brush over to heal the small gashes there. Kaz felt them heal, his labored breath steadying as she moved her hand away from his face.

“I don’t believe that. If there was nothing more to you, I wouldn’t be staying around, Kaz,” Y/N said, bending down, but she felt a gloved hand grip her wrist, surprising her and causing her to jump a bit.

“I can handle that pain, I have for years,” Kaz stated, watching Y/N nod, and while she couldn’t see his hand, her eyes were still on the wrist that was enclosed by Kaz’s gloved hand.

“I may have an idea. A way for me to know what you truly look like,” Y/N said, a smile rising to her lips.

Kaz was almost frightened to ask. No, he was frightened. He knew what that would entail. But he knew what she looked like and she had so many conflicting ideas about what he looked like. He also knew that Y/N wouldn’t cross his boundaries unless he gave explicit permission. He could say no to this and she’d agree and leave with a smile, some words of encouragement to sleep and rest, and later have Inej or Jesper bring up food for him. But sucking in a deep breath, he looked up at Y/N, determining that he trusted her enough for this. She’d never hurt you. 

“Okay, tell me the idea,” Kaz said slowly, his words wavering.

“You can back out at any time, Kaz. If you don’t want to do this, you let me know immediately,” Y/N stated, and Kaz let out a small cough. 

He closed his eyes, nodding to himself before giving an audible, “I know.”

“Your gloves, their the barrier that helps ensure you don’t come into contact with skin. What if I wear a pair, they don’t have to be yours, but a pair of gloves and use them to learn what you look like?”

Kaz tilted his head. It wasn’t a terrible idea. It actually made a lot of sense. He used the gloves as a barrier, as Y/N had said. If she did the same, it would be the same as he had just done with her wrist. He wouldn’t feel Jordie. He wouldn’t feel Reaper’s Barge. At least, that’s what he hoped for. But he’d be willing to try for Y/N. He’d try for her.

“We . . . can try that, but use my gloves. I’m used to the feeling of them. I have another pair in the nightstand by my bed,” Kaz said, watching Y/N smile a bit before moving to grab the gloves in the nightstand. He watched her slide them onto her fingers, seeing they were just a bit big on her, he chuckled quietly.

Y/N let her fingers glide against the desk once more, pulling the chair from the other side of the desk right in front of Kaz. She could hear his uneven breathing as she sat too. “You guide me, just like before,” Y/N said, letting Kaz have control of the situation. 

Slowly, Kaz lifted his hand, taking Y/N’s gloved one into his own. Stalling for a moment he shut his eyes tightly, and for a moment the flashes came to him, but he sucked in a deep breath, opening his eyes and seeing Y/N in front of him, alive, breathing.

He lifted her hands to rest on his shoulders, watching her hum as the vision of him began to form within her mind. He watched a smile come to her lips. She would never know how beautiful that smile was. How beautiful it was to him. How he hoped it wasn’t washed away like his was because of the Barrel.

“Hmm, Dark hair, trimmed at the edges. Inej teased you for it one day, I remember that. You have a sharper face than most of our friends, and a lean build, but more muscular than Jesper is.” Y/N tilted her head, the image in her head finally fully forming.

“Dark eyes, like bitter coffee. Two tattoos. I didn’t know that. I must say, but don’t Jesper this, you’re far more handsome than he is. Maybe you should start being the handsome decoy.” Kaz chuckled at that, and for a few moments he wasn’t shaking. He wasn’t fearful. He wasn’t breathing heavily. He was happy, even if just for those few moments. Happy because of her.

Y/N dropped her hands, pulling off the leather gloves and placing them on the desk. “Certainly not the grinch as some put it,” she added, standing.

“Pretty close to that,” Kaz said, watching her stand.

“Maybe personality wise, but certainly not look wise.”

“Who calls me the Grinch?” 

“Jesper,” Y/N laughed. She remembered hearing Jesper reference Kaz as the grinch at one point. It was where the nickname had probably originated from for others to call the Bastard of the Barrel, and slowly it became known. The room became quiet for some time, and Y/N was the first to break it.

“Thank you . . . for letting me do that, I know it wasn’t easy. The tattoos, what are they of?” Y/N asked then, tilting her head. Kaz took a deep breath in, looking over at the window across by his bed. The one he rarely ever used.

“The Dregs Crow, and an R,” he didn’t elaborate, leaving Y/N to know that was as much as he’d say. She knew what the Crow was for, but she had a feeling she shouldn’t ask much more than that.

“Well, do get some rest. I can’t heal sleep exhaustion, sadly,” Y/N said, laughing a bit. She didn’t see it, but a smile spread on Kaz’s lips.

[cazimagines]

Dancing the night away

Synopsis: You accomply Zemo to a ball yet you feel like you don’t truly belong there and you still compare yourself to Zemo’s ex wife but Zemo comforts you and assures you he loves you

Warnings/Tags: Fluff, all the fluff, plus very spicy end scene not 18+ but hella close

Word count: 2k

Authors note: As I promised a fluff one shot after the last one. We all need more loving Zemo in our lives. Also I just wanted to say that I love and appreciate every single one of you who likes and comments on my one shots. I used to write fanfiction on sites like Quotev and Wattpad and they never really got any attention which was quite down heartening to someone who wants to carry on writing for their career so all the love you have been showing to my Zemo one shots mean the world to me. Thank you all so much.

Once again Zemo had outdone himself. Buying you the most expensive dress in the shop, lavishing you with jewelry and make-up. Looking into the mirror even you could admit how stunning you appeared. You were wearing a tight-fitting emerald green dress that flurried out at the bottom in a swirl. The front of it cut down into a low v shape showing off the sides of your breasts.

You looked like how every little girl had always wanted to look like yet you couldn’t help but wonder...was this you?

You had never imagined you would be someone who would have a lot of money or meet someone who owned money. Let alone a Baron. It had happened so suddenly and you were swept up in a daze. It felt unreal, like every time you fall asleep you expect to wake back up in your old bed in your apartment. The truth was, deep down you felt like you didn’t deserve this.

You jumped as you felt hands wrap around your waist. Resting upon your stomach and pulling you in towards their chest.

“You look like the goddess Venus” Zemo whispers as he leans his head on your neck drinking in the scent of your perfume.

“If I hadn’t already promised the president I’d be there I would say screw this dance and take you right here”

“Zemo!” you gasp, your face instantly truing bright red at such a bold remark. You two had never gone that far in your relationship yet. You needed time to be ready before you ever went that far. Zemo respected that choice though he loved to tease you like that.

He chuckles, kissing your neck briefly then pulling back to admire himself in the mirror. “We will be the best looking couple there darling”

“You think so?”

Though his mouth was still turned into a smile he turned to you serious, “I know so y/n”

You break out into a big smile making Zemo smile flashing his teeth as well. He pulls you into a soft kiss, his hands gently holding onto you.

Following Zemo, he leads you to his car and a little while later you arrive at the ball. It felt like there were thousands of people there and they were all staring at you.

Zemo loved the attention. He politely smiled at everyone and greeted his friends there, introducing you to them.

You tried to make polite conversation but you had always been rather awkward. You didn’t know what you could say to people like them but Zemo made up for it by talking for you.

It felt like hours of you walking arm in arm with Zemo till he finally led you to the dance floor.

One hand on your waist and one holding yours, you two started to waltz to the music. Zemo started intently at you. His eyes sparkling in joy just to be in your presence while your face seemed to be in a permanent state of blushing.

“Have I told you just how much I adore your blush?” Zemo asks

You slightly chuckle still looking away, “Everyday” you breathed

“And I will continue telling you every day till you believe it”

“...Zemo”

“Darling, look at me” he whispers

Slowly you manage to drag your eyes off the floor and up into his warm chocolate ones. His grip on your hand tightens as he smiles warmly at you. “Words can not describe how stunning you are y/n. Poets would weep with joy just to be in your presence, even the stars would blow down to your light”

“I love you so much Zemo” you whisper

“I love you too”

You two continue to dance for the rest of the song till the music stops. You excuse yourself to step outside for a few moments.

Though Zemo loved to tell you how much he loved you, there was always a part of you that seemed to always doubt him. You were someone so common compared to him. Compared to his ex. He hardly spoke about her. You knew they were married with a child but they were both killed and it hurt him deeply. One day you snuck into his office and found a picture of her. She was so beautiful, so different to you.

“I hate seeing you looking so down darling” you hear Zemo say as he follows you outside. He stands behind you wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your shoulder.

“I’m fine” you try to reply but Zemo shakes his head, “I know you y/n, I know you are upset by something. I want to help you with whatever is lying heavily on your soul but I can’t unless you tell me”

You don’t say anything for a moment, you just breathe in and out trying to calm your nerves. Zemo pulls back from you. He turns you around and picks up your hands in his. He brings them up and kisses them gently.

Finally, you gather up the courage to just let it all go, to just say everything that had been bothering you.

“I don’t feel like I fit in here Zemo! Before I met you I was just an average person. Someone everyone here would look down on. Part of me still finds it hard to believe you even like me. Why would someone like you, a Baron, who could have any supermodel settle for someone like me. It doesn’t make sense. I feel so outcast here and I can’t help but think about your ex-wife. She was so beautiful, I saw that picture in your office of her. I know she is prettier than me and I just can’t understand why you would choose me after being with someone like her. I just don’t understand why you choose me Zemo!” you cried, letting the tears freshly leave your eyes.

Zemo looked shocked as you spoke but his facial expression soon turned to one of sadness. He raised his hands to your face, placing it on your side, and with his thumb, he brushed the tears away.

“Oh, y/n…” he whimpered as he struggled for a moment to find the right words.

With his other arm, he wraps it around your side and pulls you close to him till you could feel his breath on yours. His eyes stare intently into yours as he speaks,

“When I saw you in that restaurant a year ago, I was awestruck. My life had turned to shit. I’d lost everything and it felt like I was drowning in the waves of pain but when I saw you it was like the angels had blessed me. What drew me to you most though was your eyes. In the sun they shone, darling, tantalizing, drawing me in deep and under. I just had to talk to you. Other women may be pretty. Perhaps. But you darling. You look like the gods came down and painted you with the best colours in existence. Everything I say to you I mean and I want you to believe it. I would do anything just so you could see yourself the way I see you. I understand how you feel about my wife. It was my fault, not talking about her to you but the way I love you isn’t the same way I loved her. I always felt like I was forced to be in love with her like it was the right thing to do. Everyone told me I would be an idiot not to pursue her so I did. Yes, I liked her but I never felt connected to her. But you darling, I would throw everything away for you. I don’t care what anyone else says because I love you. I treasure you. Just looking at you makes my heart race still and my body feel warm. I want to hold you, touch you, taste you but at the same time, I’m scared I would taint you. That you were too beautiful, too innocent for the likes of me.” Zemo declares, never taking eyes off you.

Through his words you feel yourself melting. A warmness takes over you as your heart too nervously flutters. You place your hand over his chest and you can feel his heart quickly beating, almost in time to yours. He looks at you, his eyes wide, lips slightly parted as he desperately waits for your words.

“You mean the world to me Zemo, I’ve never loved someone as much as I love you and never will. I could never come close to your way with words but...thank you. For saying that. It...it means so much to me to hear that. I’m still going to occasionally have doubts. I’m afraid that’s the way I am and I don’t think that will ever change but I’m not leaving you Zemo. Never”

Zemo wraps his arms around you bringing you into a hug as you rest on his chest, encompassed in his warmth. “I will be there every moment of every day to help you through your doubts”

Eventually, you pull back to look at him, at his lips. You were so drawn to him at that moment. You two were so close it was intoxicating. Pushing forward, you closed your eyes to kiss him. Zemo’s eyes fluttered shut as well and he raised his hands to wrap in your hair. They got tangled in them and he slightly tugged making you moan.

You both freeze as your blush comes back but you pushed past your embarrassment, kissing Zemo harder. Your core started to warm and this time you weren’t going to run away from your desire. You part your lips slightly and Zemo takes that invitation to explore your mouth with his tongue. You push into his further, wanting to feel his body against yours. This caused him to take a few steps back till he hit a wall. You moved your body slightly up and down his as you two kissed. He pulled back, out of breath as he gazed in wonder at you.

“Am I okay to go further?”

“Yes” you gasp, “Zemo I…” you knew it now, you knew you were ready, “Zemo I want you”

His teeth flash as he smiled at you before he lowered his face to your neck, sucking on a section. His hands also lowered down your back till they grabbed your ass. It elicits more moans out of you as his teeth graze your skin. His mouth wanders all over you like he was attempting to kiss every inch of you. As he moved his head lower you tangled your hands in his soft hair, tugging it slightly which made him groan.

When he reaches your chest area he grabs the back of your legs lifting you. You wrap both your arms and legs around him as he walks you over to a table and lays you down on it. You continue to hold onto him so that his body was between your tights and his chest was pressed against yours.

While everyone danced inside you and Zemo lost yourself to the pleasure outside.

[hispipsqueak]

A Workplace Affair

Kei Tsukishima x F!Reader - NSFW

Summary: As the new tour guide at the Sendai Museum and presenter of their space exhibit, you have to work closely with the head of the dinosaur exhibit. Can you and Tsukishima learn to put aside your differences or are you going to have to work things out a different way?

Word Count: 3781

A/N: AHHHH. I put my soul into this piece I swear. As you know, Tsukishima is the absolute love of my life and I actually based this piece on this lovely commission from @/novaasoph on Instagram! I spent so long looking up dinosaur facts and the dress in the picture and story is actually a dress I own. Yes this is EXTREMELY self-indulgent, but I tried to make it as inclusive as possible because WE ALL NEED TO BE RAILED BY TSUKISHIMA IN A CLOSET OKAY?? As always likes and reblogs are hella appreciated 💕

TW: unprotected sex, enemies to lovers, slight public sex, oral sex (m receiving), workplace sex, my simping for Kei is v apparent

Here you were, a fresh-faced college graduate. After years of grueling nights spent studying and pulling all nighters to reach your goals, you had finally landed the job of your dreams working for the Sendai museum. The museum had hired you for their new Space exhibit and you would be one of their lead tour guides. The man who hired you, your new boss technically, had been desperate. The museum was preparing for an onslaught of tours now that the space exhibit was open. As Mr. Hashimoto excitedly explained, “Kids love space and dinosaurs and we finally got them both! Now we just need a good tour guide!” Mr. Hashimoto was an older grandfatherly type man, with large glasses, and a bushy grey mustache. Immediately you felt comfortable and warm from his friendliness.

He led you through a short tour of the museum, finally stopping at the last and largest exhibit, a cheery green sign declaring it the “Dinosaur Zone!”. You were in awe over the large T.Rex skeleton in the center of the room. 

“It’s beautiful!” You excitedly turned to Mr. Hashimoto.

He smiled at you, his eyes crinkling. 

“It really is, isn’t it? One of our prized displays. And of course, here comes the man of the hour.” He gestured toward a tall man walking towards the two of you.

The man was tall, at least 6 feet. His hair was blonde with a slight curl near his ears. He wore black half-rim glasses and his eyes were a bright golden hue. You could tell through his suit he was toned and muscular. His white button up was fitted very well against his broad chest and you felt your body heat up. Whoever this man of the hour was, he was HOT.

And the hot guy was staring at you, clearly annoyed.

“Miss Y/N, this is Mr. Kei Tsukishima, the “Dino Man”, if you will. He used to run the tours on this end, and now works more on the exhibit handling. If you need to know anything about this area, he will be your go-to!” Mr. Hashimoto chuckled. 

You extended your hand happily and after a beat, Tsukishima shook your hand. His hand engulfed yours in size and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

“Since you are new here, Tsukishima will be assisting you on running the tours, at least in this area. You two will be spending a lot of time together, so I suggest getting to know each other well!” He clapped you both on the shoulder and walked away. You saw Tsukishima stiffen and you were slightly disappointed when he began heading back toward his office, leaving you alone.

“Um, Tsukishima!” You called out, your voice echoing in the empty room. The blonde turned back, an eyebrow raised. You waited for him to respond but when he was silent, you spoke again.

“Uh...I look forward to working with you!” You smiled. He stared at you blankly and gave the briefest nod, before turning back around and walking away.

Well...that was...terrible.

Feeling dejected, you headed back to grab your bag and head home. You heard a door close in the distance. What you didn’t see was Kei with his back pressed against it, face red with a blush.

---

“As you can see here, these guys were pretty ferocious. I mean look at how big they were!” You stretched your arms out exaggeratedly, earning a loud laugh from the children you were currently leading on a tour. A few of the kids also started stretching their arms, growling at each other and laughing. You smiled, before hearing Tsukishima clear his throat.

“Well...ferocious if you were a tree. That’s an Aralosaurus. They were herbivores. Meaning they only ate plants.” Tsukishima gave you a pointed look, the ghost of a smirk dancing on his lips. You could feel your face heat up and turned around to face the children.

“Either way, it’s a pretty scary guy, I think!” You said smiling at the kids. You were determined to not lose your cool in front of the group you were leading. 

“Actually, they were pretty docile creatures. They used this bulge to blow air out and scare predators away, but they weren’t a ‘scary guy’ as you so eloquently put it”. Tsukishima interjected.

You could feel your eyes about to roll back into your skull and you forced your smile to remain cheerful. 

“Thank you so much for the information, Mr. Tsukishima. Or as we call him around here, Dino Boy!” You gave a fake laugh, feeling satisfied at the little crease appearing between his eyebrows as he gritted his teeth. You directed the children to the interactive sandbox where they could dig for plastic fossils. As the kids excitedly grabbed their buckets and shovels, you took a much needed mental break. Your exhibit was last, as the kids needed to burn out their excitement before the planetarium show and the dino exhibit usually tuckered them out well enough.

Lost in thought, you didn’t hear Tsukishima walk toward you. He stopped right next to you, his shoulder practically touching yours.

“Dino boy, really? That’s what we are going with today?” he muttered as the two of you watched the kids dig in the sandbox. You smirked and turned to face him.

“At least I don’t spend all day correcting people.” 

“Well if you actually researched anything for your job instead of acting like a child, I wouldn’t have to correct you.” He looked at you with a withering stare. You felt yourself crumble inside. Tsukishima’s gaze could kill a man, but fuck if you weren’t going down without a fight.

The two of you held similar arguments every day. Whether it was an incorrect fact, going down the wrong “order” of displays, heck even the way you wore your badge, Tsukishima was there with a snide comment and you were sick of it.

“So I don’t know every little thing to know about dinosaurs. There are better ways to correct people you know!” You let out a short huff, before turning your head to walk back to the group. You could feel his gaze on you and you held your head high as you led the children to the space exhibit. As you began to talk about the galaxies, out of the corner of your eye you saw Tsukishima walk into the room and find a seat near the back.

Curious, as he usually didn’t interact with you outside of annoying corrections in the dinosaur exhibit. You chose to ignore him and kept talking, getting more excited as you explained the Milky Way galaxy and described the show you would put on for the tour group. You started the exhibit and sat down in your usual seat, which happened to be next to Tsukishima. 

As the lights dimmed and the stars began to display on the arched ceiling, you could feel how close you actually were to Tsukishima. Your arms were nearly touching and you became very aware of how your heartbeat began to race. You attempted to focus on the program, as the built in narrator discussed the difference between the planets. You turned to sneak a look at the man next to you and found him already looking back at you. Your breath caught in your throat. His expression was unreadable but he didn’t look angry. His honey colored eyes were fixated on you and you felt your body tremble.

Before you could process what any of this meant, the narration stopped and you jumped up. 

“As the video discussed, the planets fall into multiple categories! The cool thing about that is that even though we perceive them as something solid and perfectly round similar to basketballs, some of them are gas giants...”

You continued on, feeling only slightly disappointed as you watched Tsukishima sneak back out the door.

-----

“Are you kidding me, Tsukishima?” you shouted. You were standing in the break room, hands on your hips. He was standing in front of you a white mug in his hand, with his eyebrow raised.

“What are you even talking about?” He looked almost bored with the whole interaction as he poured coffee into his cup.

“Somehow all of my mugs are on the tallest shelf. The shelf only YOU can reach.” You glared at him.

He placed his mug down on the countertop and turned to you, lazily.

“Why on earth would I do that?” His eyes narrowed and a smirk crossed his face. 

You crossed your arms. 

“I don’t know, because you are just a giant bully?” Your eyes lowered and before he could react you grabbed his cup of coffee and stalked off. 

-----

“What is the matter with you?!” Tsukishima yelled from his office, his voice echoing in the empty exhibit hall. The next tour wasn’t for a couple of hours.

You gently placed the box of files you were carrying on the cart in front of you. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow?” You looked up at him with false innocence in your eyes. 

“Why are all my pens now pink sparkle gel pens???!” He shouted at you, a fluffy topped pink pen in his hand.

Your eyes widened in mock surprise. 

“Now Tsukki, why on Earth would I do that?” You turned to push the cart and ran right into Mr. Hashimoto, who cleared his throat, smiling at the two of you.

“Now I am always one for inter-office tomfoolery, but the two of you are going a little overboard. So unless morale improves around here, I may have to take drastic action.” He kept the smile on his face but there was a warning look in his eyes. You both gulped. 

“Sorry, Mr. Hashimoto. This will never happen again.” Tsukishima was the first to speak. You bowed your head in agreement and Hashimoto, satisfied with your responses, walked away. You turned to walk away back to your cart before Tsukishima grabbed you by the wrist, and dragged you into a tiny storage room.

“Look, I know you despise me but I am not going to lose my job to some little girl in a stupid dress.” He hissed at you.

You looked down at your dress. It was dark blue with galaxies and planets patterned all over, quite fitting for your job actually. 

“Shut up, dino boy. My dress isn’t stupid! And I am not going to lose my job to some mean schoolyard bully.” You raised your hand to flick his forehead, and he grabbed your wrist, pushing you against the wall.

“You need to learn some manners, little girl.” His voice dropped to a dangerously low whisper, and the two of you glared at each other. He was so close to you, his chest nearly touching yours and you felt your blush creep up as his brilliant eyes pierced into you.

You felt the heat pool between your legs and you squeezed your thighs together. The shadow of a smile passed over his face.

“Don’t tell me you’re turned on right now.” He said, letting out a soft mocking laugh. You gritted your teeth.

“Of course not, asshole. You’re the one who dragged me into a closet and are now pressing yourself against me, perv.” You spat back.

The sound of voices interrupted your argument and Tsukishima quickly clapped a hand over your mouth. The two of you being caught in this position regardless of the reason would be a terrible look for both of you. Your eyes widened and you held your breath until the voices outside the door faded away.

He slowly pulled his hand away and the two of you looked at each other. Before either of you could think, his lips were against yours, pressing you into the wall of the storage room.

His hand cupped your face as he deepened the kiss and you fell back, letting him take charge. He tasted like peppermint tea and citrus and you felt dizzy from the overwhelming sensations. You wrapped your arms around him, running your fingers through the curly hair behind his ears, gently tugging to pull him closer towards you. 

He let out a low groan into your mouth, and you nibbled on his lower lip. He had one hand tangled in your hair and the other was making its way down your body, pulling down the strap of your dress. His kisses moved lower, soft lips pressing down your neck. He sucked a mark into your skin, grazing his teeth over the spot before soothing it with his tongue. You closed your eyes, arching your back away from the wall.

“Fuck...you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” He whispered into your skin, before kissing your collarbone. Your skin intoxicated him and he needed more of you in every way.

You breathed out a sigh, “Could have fooled me.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, gazing into your eyes.

“You’re annoying, childish, ridiculous, absolutely over-the-top stubborn. And fucking gorgeous. You don’t know shit about dinosaurs, and yet you can make dead stars seem like the most interesting thing in the universe. You captivate the room when you walk through the door and I’ve been in love with you since the day we met.”

This time it was you who kissed him, your tongues exploring each other's mouths. His hand slipped under your lab coat and tugged slightly on the zipper of your dress, waiting for confirmation. You moaned into his mouth and he dragged the zipper down slowly, his fingertips brushing your spine. You slid your hand to his chest, unbuttoning his shirt. You could feel the muscles and ran your fingers over his abs, chiseled from years of athleticism.

He shrugged off his jacket and loosened his tie, as you let your dress pool to the floor. His eyes roamed your body, wanting to claim every inch of it as his. You were ethereal and Tsukishima had the urge to worship all of you. 

You looked up at him, eyes shining brightly even in the dimly lit room.  He placed a finger under your chin, tilting your face up to his.

“Stunning.”

You giggled, and pressed a kiss to his neck, leaving a mark from your lipstick. He leaned back against the wall as you kissed down his chest, leaving a trail of cherry red over his porcelain skin. Soon you were on your knees, running your fingers over his soft happy trail before undoing his belt. Slowly, you slid down his slacks, noticing the dark stain of precum on his navy boxers. You pressed a kiss on each side of his abs, in the indentations of his V line. You ran your nails over the head of his erection, teasing him. He let out a soft hiss and you grinned. Perhaps another time, you would have spent all day teasing him, his whimpers like music to your ears.

But today, you were in a time crunch.

Using two fingers, you tugged down the elastic waistband of his boxers, freeing his cock.

It was beautiful, just like the man it belonged to. Long and slender, with the prettiest pink tip, dotted with a slick bead of precome. 

You gave kitten licks to the tip, savoring his taste. Tsukishima threw his head back biting his lip. He needed more of your mouth and you were oh so happy to please.

Taking his length in your mouth, you deepthroated him, pressing your nose to the base, and felt the soft curly blond hairs tickle your skin.

Tsukishima's eyes rolled back as you began to suck him down, your throat clenching around his cock. His hands gripped your hair almost painfully, though it only added to your excitement.

You bobbed on his cock, pulling it nearly all the way out of your warm mouth before forcing it back down your throat. Swirling your tongue around the head with each thrust. You looked up at him, your eyes brimming with tears.

"Fuck you look so beautiful wrapped around my cock like that. I just wanna ruin you, pretty girl."

He started face-fucking you, slowly at first but when he felt no resistance from you, he began to speed up. His fingers grasped your hair, forcing his cock deeper down your throat with each thrust. Your tears fell freely now and you could see red smears of your lipstick decorating his shaft.

You moaned around him, your face wet with spit and tears and you could only imagine how wrecked you looked. Tsukishima let out a string of curses under his breath, jerking his hips upward to meet your mouth.

"Shit, fuck, just like that, baby. Fuck yes just like that…fuck gonna cum, gonna cum…" His eyes were screwed shut and you could see the blush enveloping his face, small drops of sweat running down. You forced yourself to take him as deep as possible, gagging on his cock.

With a loud moan, Tsukishima exploded inside your mouth. You could feel the hot ropes of cum sliding down your throat and you whimpered as you swallowed all of him down. 

You finally released him from your lips, strings of saliva connecting you to his cock. He pulled you up, pressing a kiss to you. 

"Fuck that was incredible." He whispered, wiping the smeared mess off your face. You felt something poking your thigh and realized he was still hard.

He looked at you and chuckled.

"Yeah turns out being an athlete gives you stamina." he said teasingly before pushing you up against the wall. “Don’t tell me you think I’m done with you yet.”

His fingers slid down your body, roughly tugging down your bra. He buried his face in your chest, biting and sucking on your tits, grazing over the hardened buds with his teeth. While he busied his mouth, his hands continued down, circling the wetness on your panties.

“You want this, pretty girl? You this wet for me?”  he whispered, before easing a finger into your soaking hole. You threw your head back. His fingers were long and slender and hit the deepest parts of you. He began to roll his thumb over your clit softly, listening to your quiet moans. He pressed another finger inside you, fucking you on them in preparation for his cock. Your arousal dripped down his wrist and his mouth watered thinking of your taste. Soon, he wanted to bury himself between your thighs, making you cream on his tongue over and over. But that would have to wait.

“Fuck...Tsukishima...I need, I need your cock. Please, please, please.” you panted, almost like a prayer.

“Say my name, pretty girl. Tell me who’s cock you need. Do that for me baby.” He grinned, working a third finger into you.

“Fuck...Kei...please, please Kei. Fuck me. Need your cock, Kei.” You pleaded, your body ablaze with your imminent high.

“Such a good girl.” He smirked, before pulling his fingers out abruptly. You whined as you clenched around nothing, but not for long as he pressed his cock to your entrance.

“Look at me.” He demanded. You looked up at him. Your hair and makeup were ruined, your eyes lidded with desire. Your lips were puffy and parted, whimpers of his name falling from your lips like a mantra as you begged for him. You were so goddamn beautiful.

He gripped your thighs, spreading you open, and slammed himself inside you. You swore you could feel the walls behind you shake. He pistoned his cock in and out of you, each thrust hitting deeper spots. You felt like you were breaking in half and coming together at the same time. 

“Fuck Kei!!! Feels so fucking good.” You cried into his neck. You could taste the sweat on his skin as he gave all of himself to you.

“So tight, pretty girl. So fucking tight. God you’re so fucking perfect.” He panted into your hair, as he dug his fingertips into your plush thighs. 

Your eyes rolled back, stars dancing in your vision. Your cunt clamped down around him, squeezing around his cock tightly. His balls slapped against your ass as he buried himself deeper and deeper into you. You were rapidly approaching your climax, each thrust taking you higher and higher.

Kei bit down on your shoulder, his movements sloppier as he neared his own release. You could feel his body tense, his shoulder muscles flexing under your fingers. 

“Cum with me, please y/n. Please pretty girl, cum with me.” He groaned into your ear, and his voice sent you over the edge.

“Oh god, fuck….Kei!” You screamed, and he quickly swallowed your shouts with a kiss. You could feel his cock twitch inside you, unloading streams of cum as your pussy milked every last drop from him. Your combined juices coated the tops of your thighs and you held each other for dear life, both of you gasping for air.

Your legs threatened to give out underneath you and he held you closer, pressing soft kisses to your hair, whispering inaudible words of praise. Your body melted in his touch and the two of you stood there for what felt like hours, but must have only been minutes.

Your phone chimed from the pocket of your labcoat, drawing the both of you from your post-coital haze.

“Shit, tour in twenty minutes.” The two of you scrambled to get dressed and you checked your face in your phone camera.

“Fuck I can’t give a tour looking like this!” You panicked, wiping furiously at your face. Tsukishima laughed, before producing a box of tissues from a shelf behind you. 

“I’ll grab some water, though I must say it’s a damn shame since you look so beautifully fucked out.” He teased, before adjusting his tie and walking out. He returned quickly with a water bottle  and you attempted to make yourself somewhat presentable, to his sarcastic yet sweet commentary.

As the two of you prepared to leave the room, he glanced down at you. 

“So, dinner tonight?”

You grinned. 

“Sure Dino Boy.”

-------

Bonus:

The two of you left the room as nonchalantly as possible, though still a little disheveled from dressing in a dark closet. A booming voice rang out.

“There you two are! Your tour is just about to start, Y/N!” Mr. Hashimoto motioned for you to head to greet the group. As you walked away (and Kei attempted to not stare at your ass), Mr. Hashimoto turned to Kei.

“You know, Mr. Tsukishima. Red is quite a good look for you.” 

[alaskasmonsters]

(Un)deserving | Nishinoya Yuu

requested by @kyonsh​: Hii! I was wondering if you could write a Nishinoya angst with a fluff ending, in which they are childhood friends but Nishinoya feels he isnt enough for her. The plot can change if you feel like it! Thank u so much just for paying attention to my request!

pairing: nishinoya yuu x fem!reader

w.c: 3.343

warnings: angst (with happy ending), noya being hella insecure

a.n: i wonder if i’ll ever manage to finish requests quickly...thank you for being so patient with me <3 i’m finally finished and i really hope it’s what you imagined and i hope you like it! :3 (it’s like 2 am lol (what is sleep).)

If Nishinoya Yuu had to describe you in 10 words or less he’d say: “The most important person in my life.” And he’d say it with his whole chest.

Since early childhood you’ve been by Nishinoya’s side, as his best friend, and he couldn’t imagine you anywhere else other than beside him. You were his partner in crime, his ride and die, his...too precious to lose.

The two of you had met in kindergarten, at the playground. Little Nishinoya had made it his mission to become your best friend after he saw you punch another kid in the face for making fun of a girl who kept bringing her pacifier, seated in between her lips. The kid had called the girl a baby and mocked her making fake crying noises, fists wiping at his eyes as he pouted and frowned. He hadn’t stopped, not even after the girl had started sobbing, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. Nishinoya had gotten ready to be her knight in shining armor, standing to his feet tall with his chest puffed out, when you had already swept in. You hadn’t wasted any time and lunged at the boy, sucker punching him in the face.

Little Nishinoya had watched with wide eyes and a gaping mouth, the sight of a petite girl knocking down a boy older and taller than her had been absolutely world changing to him. In the matter of seconds, you had gone from “girl he goes to kindergarten with” to “most amazing person in the whole town” in his eyes.

You were cool! Not taking any shit from other kids, but you were kind and protective over your friends.

Ensuring your alliance had been of utmost importance to him, the top priority on his list of priorities. He hadn’t realized it back then, still too young and green behind his ears to understand the feelings already blooming in his chest, but he’d been smitten with you since then.

And when you’d agreed to be friends with him, because he was fun and you wanted to play pirates with him, little Nishinoya had lit up like a christmas tree. Since that day he’d stood a little bit taller than before.

That was the first of many times he’s received some kind of approval from you. You liked to give compliments, especially to him (and that wasn’t making him feel all warm and fuzzy inside! No!) But the feeling he’d get when you did, the warmth he’d feel enveloping his whole body and the feeling of growing a little taller with every nice word you fed him, nourishing to him like water to a plant, never dulled.

With you next to him he had felt like the tallest boy on the playground.

You’d been best friends ever since and still Nishinoya couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d won the lottery of life, whenever you’d show up to one of his volleyball games wearing his, his, sweater or every time you’d laugh at one of his joke and you’d laugh at all of them! Even the bad ones.

He felt so lucky that you’d chosen him back then and never gone back on it. Why you’d chosen him he had no idea, but he wouldn’t dare to question it...

If Nishinoya Yuu had to choose one reason why he’d fallen in love with you, he’d remain quiet.

It would have been a betrayal to his feelings for you if he’d spoken up since everything you did and everything you were, all your little tics and habits and quirks, everything that made you so blatantly you, was why he’d fallen so deeply he’d never be able to recover from it. There wasn’t a singular reason, it was all of them.

He’d fallen in love with your different smiles. The way your lips quirked up when you were watching their team train, the soft curve of your lips when the two of you were being silly with each other, the wide stretch of your mouth when you were so happy you could run and dance and scream. He knew what all of them meant and he thought of every single one of them as beautiful.

He loved your silliness. He loved your excitement. He loved your annoyance. He loved your frustration.

The face you made when Nishinoya let his indifference towards his grades show, all scrunched up and displeased, he loved that one, too. And then you’d scold him because if he was performing badly in school he wouldn’t get to participate in the training camps!

He loved that a single nudge to your side could turn you into a giggling mess.

He just loved you...

If Nishinoya Yuu had to name his biggest fear, something he was feared more than anything else, he’d say: “Losing Y/n.”

It was the same answer as to the question of why he hadn’t confessed his feelings to you, yet, told you how he felt, asked you to be his girlfriend.

Because he hadn’t.

What was he so afraid of? Nishinoya, the boy who’d chosen not to be afraid of anything because fear was a waste. Fear stopped people from learning and growing, gathering new experiences and gaining more knowledge. It’s a lesson his gramps had taught him.

So why did he let fear stop him this time?

Well, it was pretty simple.

You were you and Nishinoya was...Nishinoya.

You were well liked by everyone, since you were smart and pretty and honest and kind. You could probably get every boy you wanted in Karasuno High, there was no reason for you to choose him

He was too loud and too passionate, he knew that, and not exactly popular with girls either, partly because of that. Girls didn’t like him because of his height, being 5’3” wasn’t exactly what most girls imagined the ideal height for their boyfriend. They’d rather go for someone like Tsukkishima or Asahi, although those two were awfully awkward with receiving the affections.

You didn’t seem to mind his loud personality or his small built. After all, you were his best friend. Though, Nishinoya couldn't possibly imagine you found it endearing (in a romantic way) or dare he think even attractive.

You were cute, adorable actually, and he wasn’t on your level.

You were pretty, so beautiful and he wasn’t on your level.

You were the most amazing girl he’d ever had the honor to meet….and he wasn’t on your level.

He didn’t deserve you. Not in the way he wanted to deserve you.

He wanted to be good enough to be by your side, not just as your best friend but as something more. He wanted to hold your hand while walking home, kiss your cheek, call you his girlfriend.

He knew he stood no chance, Nishinoya was fairly optimistic and too ambitious for his own good, but he knew when it was time to back down. You would never see him as more than just your best friend and even if you did, you deserved better than him.

Realizing this hurt, a lot, the thought to never be with you...it ripped him apart. Thinking of you smiling or laughing at anybody elses jokes, wearing somebody else's sweater...it made anger swirl through him, hot and unsettling and ugly.

So he put a plan into work, a bad one admittedly, but it was better than no plan at all. He’d try to keep his distance, just for a little while, until those feelings he harbored for you eventually faded into nothingness. He hoped it would hurt less then, him and you, since he wouldn’t be pining after you anymore and you weren’t in danger of him possibly spilling his feelings to you and putting you into a situation where you were forced to reject him.

You wouldn’t like that, you were too kind, knowingly hurting him would end up hurting you just as bad. He wanted to prevent that.

Keeping his distance made sense. It would spare the both of you a lot of pain.

He’d been wrong about that, very wrong...

If Nishinoya Yuu regretted one decision he made in his life more than any other it would have been this one.

The look on your face was heartbreaking, as you stood before him, in front of his door. He couldn’t be all too happy to have you here after weeks of barely talking to each other. Your eyes were red and puffy and your lips were trembling, but you stood before him with your back straightened and your chest puffed out, just like you always did when you were afraid.

Nishinoya’s heart sunk in his chest when he noticed.

“Noya?” your voice was soft, almost swallowed by the wind.

He hated hearing you sound so scared, hated the crack in your voice. He couldn’t stand it.

“Why are you avoiding me? Is it something I did?”

So you noticed. Of course you noticed. You weren’t an idiot, no he was the idiot. For not being able to push those nasty feelings aside that were slowly eating away at him.

He averted his glance, shifting until he’d found a crack in the mural he could focus on, anything was better than having to look at your sad face.

He couldn’t stand it.

“I’m not avoiding you...”

He knew you wouldn’t buy it, not when he sounded this dishonest and looked all uncomfortable and clenched up. You were smarter than that.

You frowned at him, angered by his denial of what he’s so clearly done. Which was ignoring you, for weeks that was. And he hadn’t been very subtle either. No, Yuu had kept making up excuses, telling you he couldn’t hang out with you because he was busy with homework (not a very believable excuse), or he had to visit his gramps (usually you’d go with him?) or he had to help his mom with groceries or...there were too many too count. And all of them had been bad.

During school, he had talked to you less. He’d find excuses not to eat lunch with you as often or convince you it wasn’t necessary to watch the boy’s volleyball training all that often. Usually you’d stayed almost everyday after school, heck, you were an honorable manager at this point, before Yuu had started acting weirdly around you that was.

At first, you’d tried to push feelings of concern and worry away, thinking maybe Yuu was just having a weird day...or week maybe. But your best friend hadn’t stopped acting strange and he hadn’t stopped reducing the time you saw and spoke to each other to a bare minimum.

And now you were standing in front of his door and he was acting like nothing was wrong at all?

You wouldn’t just keep on ignoring this.

You pushed past him and inside the house, quickly throwing your shoes off and stomping to the kitchen, letting your bag drop to the ground near the counter. You turned around to see Yuu had followed you, looking at anything but you. Such a coward.

“Talk to me!” you urged him, your voice still hoarse from all the tears you’d shed because of him.

The boy let out a heavy sigh, scratching at his neck as he tried to find another excuse to tell you. You just knew it, you could see it in how his eyes still refused to meet yours.

“It’s nothing, Y/n. Look, I promise.”

New tears pricked at the inside of your eyes, daring to spill over because damn this was so frustrating.

“Yes, it is something! Tell me!”

“No, really it’s-”

“Tell me.”

“I swear it’s-”

“Tell me.”

“Y/n!”

“Nishinoya!”

The boy froze up, his eyes darting up to stare at you in shock. You held his glance, happy you had at least made him look at you properly, although the weight of his glance felt heavy as his eyes began to look glassy.

You had never called him by his last name before.

Nishinoya bit his lips, clearly distressed now that he realized how hurt you really were by his unjustified avoidance of you, that despite your silent submission to his distance you hadn’t been okay with it, in the slightest.

He reached out to you, the urge to be close to you and cheer you up again was huge, but you turned, denying his touch. He let his arm drop unceremoniously to his side again.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled because he was.

This had been a stupid plan. He should have never gone with avoiding you in the first place, not when he should have known it would probably lead to this…He thought he could prevent both of you from getting hurt, but his approach had achieved the complete opposite.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Yuu,” you started again, rubbing your cheeks to remove the wetness the tears had left behind.

He hated seeing you cry,

“I can’t.”

“Why not? We don’t usually keep secrets from each other.”

“I just can’t.”

Your shoulders dropped a little and you looked away, instead staring out of the window.

“Oh,” you sounded discouraged now, tired even.

Nishinoya was afraid of losing you, he’d rather hack off his arms and say goodbye to his healthy limbs than say goodbye to you. That’s why he would never tell you about his feelings, because if he did he’d end up losing you. Not immediately, but in the end he would. You didn’t return his feelings and although you’d surely be okay with staying friends it would soon become awkward between the two of you. You would hang out less, talk less until you were just strangers who were once best friends.

The thought was depressing but necessary to motivate Nishinoya to keep quiet.

“No, screw that!!

Your angry voice ripped him out of the spiral of dred he’d found himself in. He blinked, shaking himself out of his thoughts, eyes falling to your face automatically.

It was all scrunched up, your eyes twinkling with determination. It was the same face you had made just before you had punched that boy on the playground back there and for a second he was sure you’d do it again. Punch him for being so stupid and hurting you. He would have deserved that.

You didn’t.

“Even if you can’t tell me you still should! You’re my best friend, we always tell each other everything and i don’t want that to change!”

Your hands were clenched to fists as you stared him down, daring, no challenging him to respond. But Nishinoya found himself unable to.

Your words left him feeling cold, the dooming realization that whatever he’d do, refuse to talk or admit his feelings for you, the dynamic between the two of you would forever change, washed over him like icy water

You wouldn’t just take his silence. If he didn’t talk, didn’t tell you the reason, the real reason why he avoided you, you wouldn't forgive that. Not purposely, but a part of the trust you shared would forever be gone. On the other hand if Nishinoya spilled the beans and told you that he was in love with you for quite some while and had avoided you to try and make those feelings go away before they could ruin your friendship...he couldn’t even imagine how you’d react.

You wouldn't be happy. Would you be scared, sad, empathetic? He didn’t know which would be worse.

“Yuu, please!”

He didn’t have a choice. He had to tell you. That was the only possibility he had that might lead to a better outcome to the first one. He just had to be straightforward with you, you'd appreciate that.

“I love you.”

A little too straightforward.

You stared at him in silence, face blank. Before he could regret his words and paddle back Nsihinoya straightened his back and puffed out his chest, hoping he’d gain just as much bravery doing that than you always did.

“I love you and I have for a while,” he continued, standing a little bit taller than before, “I didn’t tell you because i didn’t want to pressure you or make you feel guilty for not feeling the same, so i avoided you. I thought maybe it would get rid of the feelings, but I still think you’re the most beautiful and smartest and kindest and funniest girl I've ever met and that probably won’t change either.”

You were still only staring at him so Nishinoya decided he’d just go on.

“Every time I'm with you I feel like I'm the tallest person on the planet. You make me feel strong and brave and like the best version of myself. I know i’m not your type and i know i don’t deserve being with you, that’s why i tried the avoidance thing, to make it less awkward but now-”

Nishinoya hadn’t caught you moving until suddenly you were standing right in front of him. The words died on his tongue as he was met with the look in your eyes, unshakable and sparkling with a confidence he’d never seen with you. It had rendered him speechless.

There was no hesitation in your movements as you reached up to twist your fingers into his shirt and pulled, no... yanked him down until his lips were tightly pressed against yours. His heart skipped a beat, no several beats, as he was frozen in his shock. Hot and cold shivers ran down his spine in time your lips started moving against his. Softly. Uncertain.

Then you pulled back again, just as his brain started catching up to what was happening. Your cheeks were flushed and when Nihsinoya tried to meet your eyes you lowered your head to stare at his chest instead.

“You’re such an idiot, Yuu. Saying stupid things like that,”you murmered and he saw the tips of your ears turn red.

“You kissed me,” he had blurted it out before he was able to stop himself.

You huffed, your fingers tightening their grip around his shirt and Nishinoya realized in amusement that you were embarrassed at your own straightforwardness.

“You kissed me!” he repeated, the confidence slowly returning to him at the premise that you must return his feeling to do something as bold as kissing him….on the lips!

“Shut up, I know,” you whined, hitting your forehead to his chest.

It was like a weight was lifted off his shoulder, like the invisible thread that had been separating you before, one only Nishinoya had been able to see had been severed. You had kissed him after he told you he loved you.

You returned his feelings!

Nishinoya hugged you, eyes wrapping around your form with ease and his head resting on top of yours, your face still hidden in his chest.

“I love you,” he repeated softly, testing the words once more and felt you visibly relaxing in his arms when his voice reached your ears.

“I love you, too,” you replied quietly, words muffled against the fabric of his shirt but still it was enough for him to hear.

He pulled back, just enough so you couldn’t hide your face away anymore and he grinned at you, a grin you’d return with just as much intensity. You really were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

“I can’t believe you kissed me just like that,” he teased you, remembering how bold of you that was.

You playfully hit him in the chest, whining once more, but Nishinoya just laughed gleefully at the blush gracing your cheeks, before he leaned closer again. Close enough so both of your noses almost touched. Your eyes went wide and he could swear you stopped breathing, too, for a second. Nishinoya watched your reaction in amusement.

“Do it again!” he whispered, the challenge made your face light up again.

And you didn’t let him tell you twice.

If there was one moment Nishinoya Yuu would never want to stop it was definitely this one.

Taglist: @crystal-lilac​

[thisbrokenmask]

Matching Pair

pairing: female reader x Kim Namjoon

genre: fluff, very light angst

word count: 2,266

warnings: brief mentions of struggling to conceive, hella fluff

summary: you return from a day of shopping with a surprise for your husband.

a/n: so, this fic is unbeta’d and was written on my phone, but I was too excited to write it after getting some very wonderful news today - I found out I’m going to become an auntie for the very first time next summer! I’m beyond excited, and it ended up giving me inspiration for how to finally use the ‘Fuzzy Boots’ prompt on my @btsholidaybingo​ card!

“Joonie?” you call out for your husband as you close the front door of your home, already feeling the heat of the house warming you from the growing winter chill outside. Gently putting the shopping bags containing your few new purchases down to the side, you take off your shoes and your coat and put them in the closet by the front door. You don’t hear an answering call from Namjoon, but you do find his house keys still in the little cubby in the closet when you hang yours back up, so you know he’s home.  

Heart fluttering and excitement rolling in your tummy, you grab the handles of your shopping bags and head upstairs, your bare feet sinking into the carpet of the stairs with quiet relief. Even though you decided against heels today, the several hours you spent searching for the perfect items has still left them aching and you once again pat yourself on the back for choosing a thick pile when you decorated the house.

You bite your bottom lip to try and hold back your grin as you head to your bedroom to deposit all but one of your shopping bags, although you can’t help the slight skip in your walk as you once again go over what’s about to happen. Leaving your discarded purchases at the foot of the bed to sort out later, you clutch the most important one tightly as you seek out your spouse. 

Surprisingly, he’s not in his home studio, the small soundproof room normally your first port of call on the rare days Namjoon doesn’t head into the BigHit buildings to work. No, instead you find him in the little snug-come-library at the end of the hall, a slight dip in his brow from how concentrated he is on the words in front of him.

The library was a room you both insisted on having when you found this house, as you both needed somewhere to store your vast collections of books you had amassed over your lives. The custom floor-to-ceiling shelving had been fitted perfectly for the room, with a few open spaces left for artwork to break up the visual of hundreds of book spines. 

While your respective hoards of literature had combined, there were still traces of your individual hobbies nestled among them. Several small houseplants contributed pockets of green and, as Namjoon pointed out, a sort of poetic contradiction to the many books you owned; the living among the dead, as it were. He tended to them daily, whereas your offerings required much less attention. 

In your many years of travelling before and after meeting Namjoon, you’d developed the habit of collecting one small trinket from each country or city you visited. Whether they represented particular landmarks, native animals or cultural figures, you always brought home something to remember each place by, and now many of those trinkets filled the spaces left behind by oddly-shaped books or accompanied a bonsai as it grew between the shelves. 

In the centre of the room, on top of the plush mauve rug you’d fallen in love with at first sight, sat two armchairs. They didn’t match each other, but matched you and your husband instead. You’d gotten the idea from UP!, knowing when you’d first seen Carl and Ellie’s individual chairs that you wanted to do that with your future partner. And the library became the perfect place for these perfectly mismatched chairs, another way to show how the two of you had come together in this room that housed so many of your joint passions. 

Your chair, currently empty, was the plushest wingback chair you’d ever seen; a beautiful, royal blue velvet chair that made you feel like you were in a house that could be found in a Jane Austen novel. Your husband’s chair, in which he was now sat, was burnt orange in colour, square and simple in shape, with arms curled over to remove any harsh lines. You’d hated it, initially, but the more you’d seen it on the shop floor and then saw your husband lean back into its cushions, the more you decided that it suited him, and that was what mattered. Despite its simplicity, it was a bit too big for you to sit in comfortably, although you would often climb into it and burrow under several blankets when he was away.  

You’d now grown accustomed to the barrage of colours and styles in your little library, a fondness for the apparent chaos that still shocked newcomers, making you giggle every time. 

As you so often find yourself doing, you take a second to admire Namjoon in his studious reading pose: one leg resting across the knee of the other, his right elbow propped up on the armchair and his hand cradling his chin, index finger extended across his lips in contemplation. His left hand cradles his book seemingly effortlessly, his simple gold wedding band glinting in the warm orange of the afternoon winter sun that pours in through the window across the room. It’s still the only golden piece of jewellery he wears, and it still makes your heart bloom every time you catch sight of it. 

In the split second you’ve taken in his appearance, he’s become aware of your presence. Only his eyes move at first, flicking up from the page to the door to see who’s walked in. When he sees you standing in the doorway, however, he immediately slips his bookmark into place and puts the volume down on the little table between the chairs. The ease and immediacy with which he gives you his whole attention never fails to make you feel a little giddy. 

“Hey,” Namjoon’s expression melts into his warmest smile, all traces of his previous concentration vanished at the sight of his wife. His eyes briefly drop to the bag in your hand before returning to you. “Have fun shopping?”

You nod as he extends his hand towards you, slipping your palm into his and letting him gently pull you close. He sits you in his lap, one arm curled around the back of your waist and the other gently resting across your thighs, his hand melding to match the curve of your flesh. The warmth of his palm is noticeable even through your jeans, rippling throughout your body like a breeze kissing the surface of a lake. 

“Is that for me?” he nods towards the bag by his feet, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to your temple. 

“Nope,” you smile, then pause. “Well, I guess it kinda is. Wanna see?”

If Namjoon is confused, he doesn’t show it. He loves the way you think, loves how you can see something completely different from him when you both look at the same art pieces on your gallery trips, loves how you can find even the loosest connections between two ideas in a way he’d never thought of. He doesn’t always understand you at first, but he loves that about you, so he waits patiently for you to explain. 

You lift the bag into your lap, the hand across your thighs moving to secure it in place while you open it. You turn it away from him as you pull out the contents, but he’s not even trying to peep inside; his eyes are focused on you, on the little ways your expression changes when you get thoughtful, or excited, or anxious, and right now you’re a bit of all three. 

“Ta-dah!” you singsong proudly, presenting him with a pair of fuzzy, light brown slipper boots. You try not to giggle as his expression falters slightly, although he quickly covers up his obvious confusion with bemused intrigue, gaze jumping between you and the boots as he tries to figure out what the hell is going on. 

“These… are for me?” he can tell just by looking at them that the boots are way too small for him, they’re definitely your size, and he’s struggling to figure out how they could be ‘kinda’ for him. 

“No, these ones are mine, silly!” you laugh, gently bopping the tip of his nose with your finger. The relieved sigh that falls past his lips only keeps your laughter rolling and he loves the sound, cheeks dumpling as he grins up at you. 

“Of course,” he agrees easily, smirking down at the boots as you gently run your fingers through the fluffy material, then cocks his eyebrow. “So how am I involved in this?” he pauses, then tilts his head to one side. “You’re not going to wear them to bed, are you? I know I said your feet are cold but I actually don’t mind it so much anymore-”

“These ones are mine,” you say, cutting him off, holding up your boots for emphasis before twisting in his lap to put them on the floor. His hand on your waist reflexively holds you tighter to keep you from toppling. 

When you then look at him with a smile he can only describe as mischievous, he knows he’s fucked: he’s a sucker for your playfulness, willingly walking into even your silliest pranks just to see your face light up and hear the melody of your laughter when you celebrate your victory.

His mind whirs through every option he can think of that could somehow relate those fluffy little boots to himself. Maybe you’ve bought him new slippers too, but like your mismatched chairs they’ll be different styles, perfectly suiting each of you in a way that makes them work together. Maybe you’ve actually bought him matching ones and he can’t decide what will be worse: having to wear them to please you or refuse to wear them to please himself. He feels the smallest flicker of heat in his cheeks when he considers fluffy handcuffs, but he dismisses that though when he remembers how your gaze darkens whenever you get out the pairs you already own rather than brightens, like it has done right now. 

He’s at a loss, but you don’t make him wait much longer before you grant him an explanation. 

“They didn’t have matching daddy boots, unfortunately, but-” he doesn’t have time to register the term when you pull out the remaining items in the bag with a flourish. “They did have these matching baby boots, and I just couldn’t resist!”

He stares down at the little pair of fuzzy boots, the same light brown colour as yours. They’re barely bigger than your palm as they sit side by side and he doesn’t know how something so small can knock all of the air from his body. 

He can’t speak, can’t swallow, almost can’t breathe. He can only stare. 

You watch as Namjoon’s features drop and give him a few moments to process the sight in front of him. You’re sure your lip is about to bleed with how hard you’re biting into it, desperate to cry and cheer and celebrate with him but wanting to give him his processing time. 

When he doesn’t say anything after a longer time than you were expecting, you begin to worry he’s upset rather than shocked. When he finally speaks, though, his tone is so level you genuinely think he’s angry. 

“Y/n,” he says, gaze lifting to meet your eyes and locking onto them. You feel his body grow tense beneath you, the grip on your waist tightening and releasing as he battles with the emotions building in his chest. “Who are these for?” His throat bobs with a dry swallow and you feel your stomach drop a little bit, suddenly realising how this may have come across to him. 

You and Namjoon got married nearly two years ago now, and you’ve been trying for a baby for just over a year. During that time, Namjoon has found more than one or two bags of baby clothes tucked away in your side of the closet, onesies and booties in varying designs and colours despite the fact that none of your attempts had been successful. His heart had broken for you every time, knowing how desperate you were to become a mother, but, despite his own deep-seated desire to be a father, he’d insisted you return the items each time and forbade you from bringing home anymore baby items that weren’t gifts for expecting friends or relatives. It was painful for him, too, to keep seeing the negative pregnancy tests in the bathroom trash, but he knew that it would only hurt more if you kept the clothes with no baby to fill them. 

It had been months since you’d last even looked at the baby aisles in any stores, but today was the day things changed. 

“They’re for us,” you told him gently, the words barely above a whisper yet filling the space between you. You see the tears begin to well in his eyes at the same time his grip on you tightens one last time. He stares up at you, eyes wide and watery and full of hope, and you let the widest grin loose on your lips. 

Leaning forward to touch your forehead to his, both yours and Namjoon’s eyes fall closed. Shuddering breaths push at the air between you, your hand pressing to his chest to feel the way his heartbeat gallops under your palm. Your own tears start to glide over the apples of your cheeks as you finally let the weight of your news overwhelm you, knowing that you’re both finally going to see your dreams come to life. 

“They’re for our baby.”

If you would like to read any of my other works, please follow me and head on over to my masterlist ♡

[greypoth0ts]

Picnic with Kita Shinsuke

characters: kita shinsuke

sticky notes: this is my second fan fict & im trying to get used to it! any feedback welcome ❤️

also: love with kita is gentle and considerate. also.. very calm.

enjoy!!

It was a beautiful morning. Cool summer breeze. It was Kita's idea to head to the summerhouse up in the hills. You could see the morning in its glory. Morning dew, that crisps fresh air.

"Hey babe, it's been a while since we went for a picnic. I was thinking... we could do one today"

"Today?!" you exclaimed.

"Yes today, babe. unless you don't feel lik...."

"Sure!!" - you cut Kita off because you were too excited. "i would love to go on a picnic with you." you beamed.

The entire month has been exhausting. work just kept piling. Kita comes home late from practice. Competition coming up. You barely speak to him or sit down to have a meal together. You missed him so much. He misses you too. He is dying to spend quality time with you.

So, he decided that he'll bring you away from the city. To his mountainside house that his family owns. He just wants to spend a week or two uninterrupted with you.

"I’ll pack the food!" you said excitedly.

"Okay babe, I’ll pack the mats & other stuff we will need" - Kita replied while giving you his sweetest smile.

You pack onigiri – how do we call it a picnic without Onigiri? You know it’s Kita’s favourite. He would never say no to onigiri.

Some grapes & salad. Of course, you bring along a bottle of sparkling juice, coupled with a few wine glasses.

You put on your best sundress - the one that Kita told you he loves the most. You put on some blush, which accentuates your cheekbones. Put on some gloss & left the room.

"I AM READY TO LEAVE!!"

Kita came out of the room and took a double take. Trying to mouth something, wanting to give you compliment about how you look... but he was tongue tied.

"You look beautiful" - that's all he could bring himself to say because at that moment he realised that no other words would do justice to how beautiful you looked.

He inched towards you, giving you a kiss on your forehead and gently caressed your hands.

You felt warm. your heart was fluttering. you couldn't help but smile.

Kita took the picnic basket from your hands and opened the car door for you.

"After you, my love".

Kita is a gentleman. That's how you fell in love with him in the first place. He never lost his temper; he was always calm even amid a shitstorm. He was the kind of calm & steady that you needed in your life. Sometimes you can't wrap your head around how the level of calm that he portrays.

"I'm bringing you to my favourite lavender hills. I hope you'll like it. It overlooks the river, lots of greenery & almost no traffic at all. Just you & I, babe." Kita spoke so gently to you. He has one hand on the wheel and another holding yours.

On the car ride there, the both of you caught up. You shared your stories of work, Kita shared with you how he feels about training, his performance and teammates. There was never a dull moment. Even if there was silence, the both of you were comfortable with it. Busking in the company of each other.

“Here we are, babe. Let me get the items and open the door for you. Wait for me here.”

You nod your head and waited for Kita in the car. You look at the surrounding and it was breath taking. It was nothing like the city. No hustle and bustle. It was tranquil, romantic and overlooking the lush greens.

Kita came back to the car with a bunch of lavender flowers for you.

“The prettiest flowers for the prettiest girl on earth. Here you go”

You blush. You couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach.

“Thank you, babe. I love them.”

Kita gently led your hand to the picnic area. It was a lavender field overlooking the river. The sun shined gently down on the both of you and it wasn’t a humid day at all. You could feel the breeze on your skin, the smell of lavender and sound of the river hitting the rocks.

He led you to the area. It was all set up. Picnic mat on the floor, fairy lights laid out. Wine glasses already filled, food laid out on the floor. You didn’t have to do anything except for being present in the moment.

You sat down, took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You took it all in. You wanted to remember this. Every moment with Kita is so special. But this, this was something else.

He took out his guitar & started to serenade you.

“Any request, my love?” – Kita asked.

“mmmm, anything love. Anything you sing is good enough for me.” You replied.

He started to strum; the melody so familiar. You try to figure out what song it is.

You laid down on his lap and take this moment in. What people don’t know is that Kita can sing, he has the voice of an angel. He sings so beautifully; if you think that he is talented in volleyball, wait till you hear him sing. This man is talented. He also makes covers on YouTube and he is super popular.

“oh my heart hurts so good, I love you, babe, so bad, so bad.”

You take a mental picture of this. What a charmer, you thought to yourself. The lyrics so familiar and you know even though it is a song, he meant every word he said.

He put down his guitar... He gently cusps your face. At this point you’re so swooned by him. Your heart is swelling.

“and you need you know, that I’m hella obsessed with your face” – he cusps your face as he sings. He bends down and kisses you.

You melt into a puddle. I don’t think you can ever describe this love you share with Kita. Only the both of you have this love and this is what makes it special.

Kita and you spend the rest of the evening - enjoying each other’s company. ❤️

hxjsjsjdnd love with kita is so gentle, it knows no bounds & like i mentioned, he is the calm amid all shit storm. he is the anchor you need.

i hope you enjoyed this!! idk i'm still very new. feedbacks welcome! :)

[haztory]

𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐤 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝. (2)

-chapter two: the story of us; warnings for this chapter include a brief discussion and mentioning of sexual assault. it is not described in detail nor does it happen to anyone in this fic. i will not ever be using sexual assault as a plot device as i think that’s unnecessary. however, because it is prevalent in female culture, or at least the discussion of it is, it is briefly mentioned.

if this makes anyone uncomfortable, please skip over! i will not be offended at all! 

-summary:  His eyes are a sea of green that you can't seem to stop drowning in.

a/n: this chapter is a doozy yall, im so sorry. this is mainly to serve as complete exposition of reader and iwa, so it’s hella long. i had an original idea of how i wanted this to go and then i started writing and this happened. lmfao. thank you all for being patient and loving and your comments are so wonderful! i had midterms all last week and all i could think about was writing this! so thank you all and i hope you all enjoy! next chapter will be pure chaos and fun!

i was listening to “cloud 9″ by beach bunny for this chapter! so that might help you understand how i see reader and iwa <33

(w.c.: 8,662 words)

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

You’re ten years old when you meet Iwaizumi Hajime for the first time. 

He’s an inch shorter than you, skinny, hair set in an unorganized mess of spikes, and he smells of sweat. It’s the least enticing first impression you’ve ever encountered, wondering briefly if this is what all of Miyagi Prefecture has to offer.

Because if so, you’re not looking forward to it.

He’s blocking the entrance to the neighborhood park with his bike, back facing towards you and an arm stretched outward-pointing at something across the park. The same park that your mother has forced you to attend, kicking you out of your new home filled with moving boxes, a warm smile on her face and a simple request to “go have fun”.  

A request that was starting to seem like more of a problem than you anticipated. 

You’re halted in front of the gates to the area for a solid minute, the boy in front of you being less than aware of your presence as he continues to shout from across the park.

“Grab all of them, Oikawa!” 

There’s another boy roughly the same age holding several items that look to be action figures close to his chest. His face is scrunched up and his shoulders slouched as he takes exaggerated sluggish steps while crossing the courtyard. He’s sweaty too, just like the boy in front of you.

“But there’s so many, Iwaaa. Can’t you help me?” 

“You’re such a baby, Oikawa.” 

The one named Oikawa is about to respond when he stops his movements altogether. He merely points his finger, eyes fixated on something behind his black-haired friend.

You realize a bit too late that he’s pointing at you.

The friend, Iwa as he was called, turns his head with a questioning hum, green eyes meeting yours. A sea of emerald. 

“Oh,” he breathes out, voice high in timber and flooded in awkwardness, raising his hand in a shy greeting, “Uh, hi.”

“Hi,” you respond in equal awkwardness, the kind that only a new kid can embody. Uneasiness has been settled into your bones ever since the move was announced, and now, as you stand before two physical embodiments of your displacement in this area, the feeling seems to sink even deeper into your stomach. “You’re blocking the entrance.”

“Huh? Oh! Sorry ‘bout that.” He begins a cumbersome shuffle of pushing the bike he was sitting on backward, small grunts escaping his mouth as he tries to make space for you to enter. It’s a slow process, considering he teeters from side to side and struggles to smoothly retreat from the space. Oikawa snickers in the background, some teasing words being aired that you are too far to hear, but they must be irking enough considering Iwa mutters a “shut up, idiot” in response.

The friendship is formidable, you don’t need to know them for long to see that. Envy and all its bitter acid coat your tongue.

“Are you the one that just moved in?” Oikawa speaks up.

You nod.

“How old are you? Are you going to Kitagawa Elementary? Have you already—”

Iwa interrupts the ferociously excited boy with a gentle scoff, “Calm down, Oikawa. Give her some air. Geez.”

“I just want to know more about the new girl, Iwa-chan!”

“Yeah, well you’re doing it wrong.”

Oikawa rolls his eyes and clutches the toys in his arms tighter, “You do it then!”

“Do what?”

“Introduce us! Make friends!”

“I think you blew it already.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun. If she’s going to the same place as us, she might as well join us! What do you say, new girl?”

You’re shaken from the brief exclusion of the conversation— realizing they’re including you this time—  when Iwa tears his eyes away from his friend and meets yours once again. Upon connection with the emeralds, your throat constricts your throat and the relief of ease washes over. The hesitancy that was bubbling in your stomach starts to dissipate when he looks at you— almost comforted by his dark yet steady stare— but the sense is quickly replaced by something else that shakes you. Your skin prickles, like fire ants marching up the pattern of your skin, and your palms start to sweat despite the cooling temperatures and the light breeze blowing against your skin. 

You’d have to tell your mom about this, just to make sure you weren’t getting sick.

“Would you like to join us?” Iwa asks. There’s no trace of a smile on his face but the invitation isn’t lacking in warmth. It’s a subtle kind, almost imperceptible if it weren’t for the look of curiosity residing upon his features. He speaks gently, like there wasn’t a distance between you two and another person listening in on the conversation, pointing his question and attention solely at you. There was a center of his gravitational pull and it was in your direction.

He’s waiting for your answer, and not the kind that results after courteously asking someone a question; You can tell he is really waiting, wanting to know what you say because his eyes hold onto yours in a way that is much more mature than a boy at the tender age of ten should be looking at someone.  

He’s sincere. He doesn’t even know you and yet he waits upon you as though your response were one he was to weigh considerably with his agenda. He’s a stranger, only said two things directly to you, and yet you feel weightless in the most minute of his attention. 

The rocks of anxiety that were sitting heavily in your stomach for the past month have disappeared and the answer that he waits so intensely for comes rather naturally. It’s the surest you’ve felt in a while. You don't know them at all, aren't even sure if you'll like them, but what would you be other than a fool to not follow the path of certain safety laid out in front of you, disguised as a black-haired boy with the spiky hair? How can you be sure unless you don't see for yourself?

“Yeah,” you sigh out, burdensome weight lifting off your shoulders at the answer, “Can I?”

“Yeah. You can.” He affirms with a nod, the corner of his lips quirking upward. Oikawa, rather befittingly, shouts a cheer, resuming his incessant chatter in throwing an onslaught of questions your way but you’re not listening. Pulled elsewhere you find your gaze being drawn back to the calm and steady boy, with the sea of emerald in his eyes.

“I’m Iwaizumi Hajime, by the way. And that’s Oikawa Tooru.”

“I’m (Y/N).” 

“Cool.”

You spend the whole day with them, quickly finding a natural place in their relationship, serving as the happy in-between of the flamboyant nature of Oikawa and the pillar of stone that is Iwaizumi. It’s fun, the most fun you’ve had in the entirety of your move that you find yourself trying to make some kind of excuse to extend the day when the sun starts to set. 

But Oikawa has to go home, and so does Iwa, and the disappointment is more than apparent on your face. There’s the unmistakable promise of seeing one another again, that of which was affirmed when Oikawa held out his pinky for you to take and solidify the statement on.

“I can walk you home if you want.” Iwaizumi tells you after you both wave your goodbyes to the other brunet. It’s a godsend, a miracle from the heavens who heard your building plight and decided to spare your jilted mind with some form of comfort. 

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you tell him, purely as a formality. Your mother’s lessons of never burdening others kicking into gear at his offer, but you plead, secretly in the deep recesses of your brain that he disagrees. Hope desperately that he’ll take the initiative and stay with you just a moment longer. 

He shakes his head, bearing a toothy smile that is missing one of his canines. “I don’t mind. My mom always tells me to make sure girls get home safe.”

Calm, steady, comforting. You selfishly agree before you have half a mind to say otherwise, “Okay. I live this way.”

And as he trails beside you, holding his bike in his hands as he walks at the pace you set, telling you the details about his favorite monster movie, you find yourself incredibly enamored with the short, sweaty boy that hates green tea and loves summertime.

And not for the first time.

You’re thirteen when you realize that you have a terribly, horribly, deeply incessant crush on Iwaizumi Hajime. 

It’s lunchtime and while you’re usually quick to eat with the resident bickering duo of Sendai, they’ve ditched you for volleyball practice— and not for the first time. So you sit with your other group of close friends, the ones you made through the conventional school setting, and not because they impulsively adopted you into their routine. They’re the necessary and equal balance to the growing testosterone you religiously spend your weekends with, so ultimately you’re not too upset at being left behind for a sport. 

Besides, it’s nice to be surrounded by girls who talk about normal things instead of sweaty violent boys that only talk about volleyball and occasionally the things you like.

Mai, a girl with a short bob that frames her round face, shakes the table with her loud laughter, the curtain of her hair swaying in tune to her joyful movement. She was the first friend you made in this group, and easily the one you’re closest to. The complete opposite of Hajime if her unabashed, frantic excitement is anything to go by. But much like the spaces in this Miyagi heart of yours that’s dedicated to Tooru and Hajime, there’s one for her too. She grabs onto one of your arms and holds it tightly, seeking stability as her melodic laughter rings through your table. 

It’s hard not to laugh alongside her. 

“Please!” She begs Yua, a blonde girl in the year above you, and wipes her eyes free from the laughter-induced tears, “No more! I’m gonna pee!”

Yua huffs, shrugging her shoulders to say that Mai’s inability to hold her urine was beyond her control, “I’m serious! That’s how I found out Kaito had a crush on me!”

“And what did you do?” You ask, laughter lacing your own words at the tale Yua expertly weaved, describing in excruciating detail how Kaito from your third period wrote a love letter comparing Yua’s lips to that of a whale as if that was somehow a compliment.

“I ran away! What else was I supposed to do?!”

Mai howls with laughter, her body being thrown against yours and her arms flailing with the movements, unable to contain herself. You’re almost identical, finding that you follow Mai’s gesticulation in perfect countering. Where she pushes you left, you move in sync, allowing her to lean her weight on you as you both lose yourself in the story.

For as much seriousness as she tries to implement in her words, the quirking of her lips betray Yua, “Laugh all you want, but wait ‘til this happens to you! Then you’ll get it!”

“I don’t think Mai and I have to worry about that,” you tell her, the remainder of your laughter dying out of your words. Mai snaps upward, her body no longer slumped against yours, and instead of facing you with furrowed brows and an offended expression.

The two friends speak simultaneously, one with indignation and the other with confusion “Why not?”

The pointedness of the question makes it seem as though your words were wrong, a misstep in a direction that you have to apologize for. Regardless of whether or not you know why. “Uh, ‘cause no one likes us like that?”

Mai scoffs, crossing her arms and tilting her nose upwards, “Speak for yourself.”

“Sorry, no one likes me like that. So I don’t have to worry.” You say with a smile punctuating the statement with a scoop of rice into your mouth. It wasn’t a statement meant to be considered deeply, it was a simple fact. There were hardly any thirteen-year-olds looking your way, and even if there were, it wasn’t like your attention was focused on them either. All the boys in school were either too annoying or too stupid.

Except for Hajime. He was the only tolerable one. Oikawa fell into the “too annoying” category. But you still loved him—sometimes.

Yua and Mai share a glance, a fleeting look before they look back at you, “You’re joking, right?”

You look up from your food to meet their furrowed stares, “What?”

They share another glance, Mai answering Yua’s silent question with a shrug of her shoulders. You’re completely left in the dark. “Wait, what’s going on?”

“Okay, so what if,” Yua begins, the familiar teasing lilt that you’ve widely associated with the blonde returning, stressing on the ‘if’, “someone did like you. What would you do?”

They both look at you with waggling eyebrows, like they’ve cornered you into the exact hypothetical they want you to be in. While this isn’t necessarily an unfamiliar place to be in, it is a weird one, considering you and boys have never really been the topic of conversation unless Iwa and Oikawa were somehow brought up. But your friendship with them was well known and not exactly hidden at all. It wasn’t sensational, nor was it the topic of gossip. Neither was the fact that you aren’t exactly the kind of girl the boys of Kitagawa First were looking at if they were even looking at girls.

“But no one likes me like that.”

“Answer the question.”

You gesture in exasperation, “I don’t know! I’m not really into anyone like that, so I guess I’d say no?”

The two girls pause again, sharing another look. 

“Okay, can you two stop that?”

Mai speaks up this time, almost disbelieving, “You really don’t like anyone?”

“Am I supposed to?”

Yua sings, “Not even Iwaizumiii?”

The chopsticks that you held deftly in your hands go limp and a straight shot of shock runs down your spine. Time stands still in this cramped cafeteria and it feels like your head has been dunked into a bucket of cold water, halting the train of thought and highlighting every possible exit in this building.

The red lights of panic have turned on in your brain and they’re screaming at you to run.

“I— I don’t— what are you guys talking about?” 

Your two best friends, who now resemble Satan’s assistants more than anything remotely positive to you, share their third unspoken glance, and you’re about to lose it. 

“So,” Yua starts again, tearing her sly eyes from Mai’s excited ones, “You do like him?”

Code red. Abandon ship. Abort. R-U-N.

“No! He— I— We’re just friends!” 

“Oh my god!” Mai slams her hands on the surface of the table, her brown eyes boring into your widened ones as she leans over to invade your personal space and poke your chest.

“You like him!”

The brain that is usually so quick with an excuse, trained to be sharp-witted and smart from years of intense teasing from Tooru and Hajime, suddenly feels like mush in your head. Ooey, gooey mush that can’t come up with anything but stuttering, “N-No” at the idea of having some romantic inclination towards Hajime. The best friend you hang out with every weekend; The boy that always walks you home and always makes sure your comments are heard; The spiky-haired idiot with a sea of emerald in his eyes that you always seem to drown in.

But, that’s not— that doesn’t mean— No. 

You don’t like Hajime like that. He’s just a really really good friend. That you enjoy spending time with. That makes you feel comfortable with just a single look. The friend that you always want around, regardless of the kind of day. Yeah. That’s it. 

Hajime is just that kind of person.

Yua gives an unconvinced hum and taps her bright pink nails on the table surface, “When you think about another girl liking him, do you get jealous?” 

Mai backs up from your face to give a wide smile at the blonde, pointing at her wickedly and almost shouting, “Ooh! Good question!”

“Thanks, I read it in my sister’s magazine.”

Mai turns back, almost touching your nose with hers, “Well? Do you?”

The “no” is on the tip of your tongue as an instinctual defense against this personal interrogation, but it doesn’t come out. Partly because of the mush of your brain but also because you know any denial of that question just simply isn’t true; Because when Saran followed Hajime around all day in grade six, you distinctly remember being in a foul mood for a while.

A mood that could only be fixed when Hajime indirectly affirmed that he did not like her.

Oh god.

You like Hajime.

You like his stupid face and his stupid laugh and the stupid way he teases you and the stupid way he makes you feel.

Your friends laugh in your face for a solid minute while you hang your head in your hands, certain that your life was completely over with the new revelation. Yua is the instigator, teasing you relentlessly over the silent confession while Mai asserts that this is the beginning of a fairytale. 

She says it with such conviction that you’re almost inclined to believe her until reason kicks in, and the shamefulness of the situation kicks in. You push it down, fine with keeping the acknowledgment exactly where it is, right under your thumb. That is until Oikawa finds out about it and then suddenly, it’s no longer in your control.

You’re fourteen when he corners you after school. He’s walking you home, taking Hajime’s usual role when said boy and subject of your plight had to stay home with the sick. 

You don’t think he’s going to bring it up, hardly aware he even knows about it, but he does making you choke on your spit and trip over a crack in the sidewalk. He clutches his stomach in a guffaw. 

“Did you really think you could hide it from me?” Tooru teases, his finger poking at your heated cheek that you quickly swat away. 

“I’m not hiding anything, Tooru,” you mutter, keeping your head turned downwards. If Oikawa even sees a smidgen of embarrassment he would never let you live it down.

“Oh, please. You’re so easy to read, especially when Iwa-chan is around. You’re all, ‘oh Iwa, you’re so smart and funny. I want to be with you forever. Mwah, mwah, mwah!’” His hands are interwoven beside his head and he attempts a poor, high-pitched imitation of your voice. Again, Oikawa Tooru belongs in the “too annoying” category that most eighth-grade boys find themselves in. 

You lift your left leg, thrusting your shin outward to kick the taller boy in his behind, a move all too familiar. Really, Oikawa should have seen it coming, having had it done to him so often by Iwaizumi. He’s too swept up in the antics of teasing, though, that it surprises him and the pain in his bottom is sharp. His hands cover the stinging area. 

“Ow, (Y/N)!”

“That’s what you get for being stupid.”

“See! You even act him like him!”

You raise your fist upward and he raises his hands in defense, cowering at the threat of more pain, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

He lowers his hands, one eye closed and the other peeking from behind his lowering fingers, “Gosh, so violent. I’m only trying to help!”

“I don’t need help.” You grumble.

You continue your trek onward, desperate to put as much distance between yourself and this nightmare of a conversation. But it’s not that simple. There are now three people that have realized the truth of your crush in less than a year— all of which are your closest friends. It’s only a matter of time before the friend above them all realizes it too. 

Worst off, only a matter of time before someone tells him. 

You turn towards Tooru with a speed that has him flinching and thrusting his hands upward for protection again. A yelp echoes around the empty street and was it not for the intensity behind your desperation, you probably would have laughed.

“Tooru.” There’s a rasp in your voice, one that you aren’t exaggerating. It makes Oikawa uncomfortable hearing such a serious depth to your previously annoyed cadence. In his continuously growing height, he stares down at you, fear crumpling his face.

“Don’t say my name like that—”

“You cannot tell Hajime.”

He straightens his posture out, hand rubbing the back of his neck. A brow is raised quizzically, “Isn’t that the whole point of having a crush? So that you can eventually tell that person about it?”

It’s not like you expect him to understand, hell, you don’t even understand it yourself. All you know is that Hajime cannot know about it; There are too many factors, too many problems that can happen. Besides, you’re sure it’s just a tiny crush, one that will go away after a couple of months. 

And even if it didn’t, you still wouldn’t be able to tell him. Because you’ve been best friends for four years now, and if there was anything remotely remarkable about you, you’re sure something would’ve happened already. Because Hajime is strong, decisive, and steady. If he wants something, he goes for it; And if he wanted you, in any capacity like the way you want him, he would’ve said something. 

But he doesn’t because you’re his best friend. Nothing is outstanding about you, nothing that would make you more than just the girl he’s friends with. Nothing that would make you any different from “just one of the guys”.

He would never see you as anything but. 

So, it’s just easier to have Hajime as a friend than to risk it all for a likely rejection. You could swallow the feelings, bury them deep inside of you for the rest of time. It would be significantly easier than never talking to him again because you couldn’t be a big girl and not make things awkward. 

You try to tell Oikawa as much, “It’s— I just— It would be easier if he didn’t know. It’ll go away soon.”

The brunet tilts his head to the side, kind of like a pouty puppy. When he’s not being a teasing butthead, he’s rather gentle with you, considerate of your emotions, and above all, eager to understand.

“Do you want it to go away?”

“Like I said, it would just be easier.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

A quiet settles between the two of you and it feels like it’s oceans wide. You, stranded out at sea in the terrorizing waves of emotions, and he, the lighthouse built on the rocks. Tall and fixed, beckoning you towards his stable ground of reason. It’s a brief reminder that when Oikawa tries, he’s not that annoying. He’s rather kind and empathetic.

“Do you want Hajime to like you?”

The deep cocoa eyes dig into you and the waves crash even more ferociously around you.

Cotton dries up your mouth, and the ache that always pains your heart whenever you think about Hajime returns in full force, “He never will.”

Oikawa huffs out a breath, back becoming imperceptibly straighter while he crosses his arms. It’s hard to imagine him as anything but that sweaty boy you met on the playground, but he stands before you a giant, body filling out from all the volleyball practice and the baby features of his face evening out to become the handsome boy girls were starting to see him as. He radiates his kind of steadiness, one different from Hajime, but equally as comforting.

It’s admirable— he’s admirable— when it's not pinned against you.

“And how do you know?”

“Tooru,” you sigh, exhaustion suddenly creeping up your shoulders along with the overwhelming urge to cry, “Please.”

You don’t feel like explaining all the intricacies of your perceived inadequacy and thank the gods above he’s a good enough friend to know when to stop prying, “Fine, fine. I’ll leave it alone. For now.”

You stare up at him, searching his face for any notion of deceit or subterfuge, “You promise you won’t say anything?”

“Yeah, yeah,” He waves his hand in dismissal, rolling his eyes in that way that portrays annoyance but the love is there. He understands you, at least. 

You hold out your pinky for him, “Pinky promise?”

“What are we, ten?” 

You hold your finger out further, almost waving it in his face. It’s the staple of trust in your friendship, instituted early on between you and him, and only you and him. He can’t back out now.

He takes it with a sigh of his own, huffing out his breath, and twisting his long, slender finger with yours. You shake his hand in affirmation, letting go only when you feel comfortable in the validity of his promise and resuming your walk home. 

He throws an arm over your shoulder, squeezing you tightly to his body, “Eventually you’re going to have to say something.”

“I know.” 

“I hope you know I’m never letting you live this down.”

“It’s like you want me to hit you again.”

Maybe he’s right. Maybe in the future, when you’re more comfortable with the fact that it’s your best friend of all people that gives you butterflies in your stomach, you’ll do something about it. But not right now, not when he spends all his time in volleyball and especially not when you were barely confident in yourself. Or maybe, it’ll go away, and you can look back on this as a funny memory rather than anything serious.

You’re fifteen when you finally accept the circumstances and become resigned to it. Finally understanding that your crush is more than just a crush, but knowing full well that that’s all you can let it be.

Hajime sits on the floor, surrounded by your regular friends plus a couple of others at Oikawa’s birthday party when he says it. You’re not supposed to hear it from your place in the kitchen, but you do and it’s a dagger to both heart and confidence. He’s confirmed everything you knew and quelled any potential rebuttal of thoughts Mai or Tooru have planted in your head. 

You were stupid to think Hajime could ever see you as anything more than the girl he’s just friends with.

Your appetite quickly dissipates and you have to work extra hard to make sure pure despair doesn’t show on your face. Especially when Oikawa hears it too and he makes that face that looks like he wants to give you a hug, which makes everything ten times harder.

A kid named Matsukawa is the one that asks. You don’t blame him. He’s only fifteen, after all, asking what normal fifteen-year-olds normally talk about.

“What about (Y/N)? Would you date her?”

Hajime scoffs, a laugh on his lips as though it were the weirdest question he’s ever heard.

“She’s my best friend. That would be like dating my sister. I don’t like her like that.”

You’re fifteen and you’ve become resigned to it all, because it’s better to have Hajime as a friend, than to never have him at all. Because you would never have him; At least not in the way you want. 

You don’t blame him for that either.

You cry about it later on, after the party is over and after you deny Hajime’s insistence to walk you home. He has a weird look on his face when you tell him you’ll be fine, your house is only a few blocks away. He wants to fight you on it, can see the argument forming it in that storm of green. It’s a shitty feeling to deny him so blatantly, but you really can’t stomach being around him at the moment. Not when your heart pangs longingly for him and your insecurities increase tenfold at the confirmation of your inadequacy.

Not when all of this is happening at once, showing as clear as day on your face, and he sees it. Worst of all, not when he wants to solve it, hardly understanding that he’s the cause of it.

His eyes narrow, staring intently as he studies your features. The scrutiny is uncomfortable and if he does stares a second longer the tears will fall.

“Did… something happen during the party?” Hajime asks hesitantly. There’s a whirlwind of possibilities crossing his mind, all indicating rather unsavory and horrifying ideas that have his worry bubbling beneath his skin. You’re barely meeting his gaze, hands clasped tightly before you and body way too stiff. The complete opposite of your normal demeanor, especially around him.

Usually so open, so vibrant. And here you stand before him, the dark of night surrounding you and the fluorescent glow of the streetlamps casting a ghoulish light on your face, exaggerating your dejected features more prominently. 

He’s heard of worst-case scenarios when girls and boys get together, something mentioned in passing when his mother was on the phone with his aunt. He never really thought much about it, considering he would never do something like that and he doesn’t hang around many girls, to begin with for something like that to be an immediate concern.. 

In this stark contrast of a moment, however, he’s briefly reminded of the fact that he so often tends to forget. You’re a girl; A living, breathing, pretty girl. Everyone likes you, would be fools not to. And while he would never allow himself or anyone else to force themselves upon you, you weren’t with him for the whole party. Disappearing for a brief moment after he saw you enter the kitchen. The idea of something like that— something that horrible— happening to you under his nose has all of his instincts on fight mode, forget the flight. A shattering of the innocence he was so previously impervious to. 

The implication is clear in his voice accompanied with the fear-stricken features, so you can hardly miss what he means. 

“Did— Did anyone…?” His voice cracks and he hurriedly tries to clear it up with the clearing of his throat, but you heard it. It happens often when he’s wrestling with an onslaught of emotions, trying his hardest to remain calm and clear-headed and focused that sometimes his voice just gives out. Also, puberty.

The act doesn’t matter though, not when he’s silently amping himself up to fight someone if you were touched inappropriately. He would win; He’s been in a couple of fights before, usually off school property, he doesn’t mind getting into another one. Not if it was for you. And he would win; Would make sure of that.

The tussle for calm is transparent on his face. Lips struggling to stay in a closed, neutral line rather than the frown he has to hold back. His fists clench, blunt nails digging into the skin of his palms to alleviate the growing anger, only to prove futile. He so badly wants to grab you by the shoulders, shake you furiously, ask what the hell is going on because you’re never like this—

He doesn’t. He knows better. Even if the suspense is driving him up the wall and the tension that encapsulates the empty street is thick and choking him. 

Finally, you say something.

“No, Haji,” you say softly, “No one did anything to me.”

It’s what Iwaizumi wants to hear; Should be ecstatic to know that you are physically unharmed, free from the taint that comes with a foreign touch, the one he’s intent to protect you from. Your voice is too quiet though, and the smile you give him is too small for him to feel any modicum of ease. You're lying. Someone did something.

“I’m fine, really!” You try again, amping up the energy to convince him. It falls flat. 

“(Y/N).” That spiky head of hair tips forward, pushing himself in your averting line of sight, refusing to let you hide from him. He’s taller now, finally taller than you. While his hair is still that fluff of mess on his head, his eyes are still that piercing green that can always read you like a book and his favorite season is still summer, only this time he no longer enjoys going to the park, but instead the beach. 

He’s the same Hajime you fell in love with and the remainder is enough to cause a lump swell in your throat.

“What are you hidi—”

“Iwa-chan!”

The familiar melodious voice rings out in the empty street, its owner sauntering his way over to your departing figures. There’s that recognizable air of flowering confidence rolling off of him like a humid heat and the sly shining of his pearly whites that serves as a buffer from the thick air of tension between you and Haj— Iwaizumi.

Just, Iwaizumi. No added affection.

There's magic in Oikawa’s stroll, you’re sure of it. It looks perfectly coincidental, like he just so happened to stumble upon a tense scene, instead of the very much needed and purposeful intervention for his emotionally crushed best friend and worry-fueled other best friend.

And they call him the idiot.

He sighs that flowery breath of his, throwing his arm around Iwa’s shoulders and watching the desperation that filled your gaze wash away with relief at his intrusion. Iwa’s confusion only seems to increase, but truthfully, Oikawa isn’t too concerned with his hard-headed friend. He’s really only keen on getting you out of there— out to safety and away from the source of your heartbreak.

“Iwa-chan, you have to go set up the movie player. I have no idea how to work it.”

“I’ve shown you how to do it four times, Tooru.”

“But it’s so much easier when you do it. Don’t worry, I’ll walk our precious flower home while you set up for our sleepover.”

Iwaizumi hesitates, his eyes bouncing from the self-assured smile of Oikawa to your downturned gaze. There’s something wrong, he knows it. But it’s obviously a secret he isn’t allowed into. 

He won’t pry, he’s never been one to beg for secrets— never been one to want secrets told to him at all. However, there’s a particular sting at knowing that it’s you who’s hiding something and refusing to tell him. That there’s something Oikawa is aware about, that he isn’t allowed to know.

It’s not his business, he surmises. You’re not his business. He swallows that bitter pill, accepting Oikawa’s offer with a brief nod. He’s not happy, that’s plain to see, but he knows better than to insert himself where he’s not wanted.

Calm, steady, comfortable. Iwaizumi will fight for what he wants, but not when it hurts you in the process.

He bids you a brief goodbye, voice tight and rigid, clearly displaying his dissatisfaction but accepting it nonetheless. He doesn’t even look back at you. It’s what you want, you suppose. Some distance from him for your benefit, so you can at least try and forget about how you feel; Save yourself from the devastation of falling even deeper in love with him. 

He enters Oikawa’s house. It’s a place you’ve been many times, slept over on many occasions yet, when Iwaizumi crosses the threshold with a strain on his shoulders and a grimace on his face, you can’t help but wonder if he’s finally going someplace that you can’t follow. If you’ve spent all these years pining over him, wondering if you would ever be enough for him, only to push him away into an area of no return. 

Oikawa doesn’t give you a moment to think long about it before he’s ushering you away from the crime scene where your uncontrollable and childish feelings have brutally injured a fraying friendship and guiding you home. He talks the entire time, about everything and nothing, and you’re rather grateful for the background noise. To finally think about something other than your broken heart and Iwaizumi’s betrayed face. 

He leaves you at your door with the promise that things will get better, that it won’t hurt so much, and that he’s always there for you. He places a sweet kiss on the crown of your head, turning his back with a final wave and leaving you alone with your thoughts. The promise of meeting one another again is unspoken, instinctive. You know deep down, though, it’ll be different from here on out. You’ll have to be more careful, more guarded with the things you say and do.

You wonder if Iwaizumi has as much trouble sleeping that night as you do. 

(He does. He doesn’t sleep at all.)

Things do get better, which is a blessed curse. The tension eventually resolves after a couple of weeks of tiptoeing around each other. Normality returns in full-swing and you’re able to talk to Hajime without the overwhelming feeling of guilt and need to explain everything; If he holds any issues about what happened that night, he doesn’t mention it, following your lead and letting the friendship return to normal.

The problem lies in the fact that Oikawa was ultimately right, and he makes a point to show that he’s right. That things did get better, and the fragmentation of your splintering relationship with the boy you love eventually gets patched up.

Life moves on.

The feelings don’t go away, but you get better at managing them. It’s significantly easier to push the pining down and not think too much about any passing romantic comments in school that pair you and Iwaizumi together; Nor do you think twice about the harmless flirting that occasionally comes your way. You dish it back, continuing the joking nature of the friendship and after a while, it doesn’t hurt so bad. You exit the stages of puberty and things don’t feel as hectic as they once were. 

The turbulent waves of emotions finally die down to a steady roll, and for a while, you’re able to float. It’s safe, peaceful, exactly how you want it to stay. 

That is until you’re seventeen, almost eighteen, and Iwaizumi asks you to be his fake girlfriend. The waves pick up steam and you’re drowning again. You have the girls of Aoba Johsai to thank for that. 

This time though, you’re determined to protect yourself. The anxiety of it all starts to settle in between your shoulders and instead of falling victim to the whims of an unsuspecting Iwaizumi once again, the urge to protect yourself and your pathetic emotions takes precedence. You will not be reduced down to the unconfident, love-sick girl you once were; You’ve worked too hard to do that. You matter more than Iwaizumi’s stupid girl problem.

It’s why you don’t think twice when you blurt it out after agreeing to help.

“We need a contract.”

“A contract?” Hajime parrots back, broad arms crossed over his equally broad chest and the intense training you’ve instilled in yourself to not stare at him meets its limitations, lest you stoop down to the level of the girls he’s so desperate to evade. He’s grown so much, physically and personally, that it's hard to not look at him. You force yourself to glance around the crowded cafe, look anywhere but his veiny arms, and instead replace your view with the small restaurant you two frequent every Monday— the only day he has off from volleyball practice. 

It’s a small establishment that sells teas and noodles, a pleasant find to make one day when the both of you were hungry pre-teens and full of time on your hands. It’s usually rather empty during this time as it’s just out of the line of sight to avoid the after-school rush of students, but today the line extends outside of the door, all attendees eager to have a taste of miso ramen and pushing against bodies to do so. The people behind you are respectful enough to give you as much space as one can afford in the cramped venue, but you end up still having to press yourself into the stiff body of the boy— no, man— beside you. 

You have the decency to look at least a little uncomfortable in the tightness of the situation, but Hajime shows nothing. Whether it’s because he doesn’t even care that your chest is bracing against his arm or he’s too distracted with the complicatedness of his “girl” problem, his face betrays no embarrassment at the closeness. No frustration, no discomfort, not even annoyance. He merely exists, dealing with your body pressed against his as if this were a regular occurrence and not an awkward preemption to the farce that you’ve stupidly agreed to. This would surely haunt you for the rest of your years. 

This man of steel, this monolith of lean, corded muscle, was going to be your “boyfriend” for the next couple of weeks. You would be lucky if this arrangement even lasted for that long considering the confession of pure unadulterated adoration is crawling up the canal of your throat and tearing the fabric of your skin, sticking a middle finger at the rational parts of your brain trying desperately to hold it back. 

Your fate is signed, knowing full and well that in your inability to deny Hajime— especially when he’s so desperate, which is a rarity in and of itself— you’ve willingly agreed to have your dignity and confidence stripped from your person and your feelings thrown in a loop for the sake of his sanity. 

It’s annoying. Every potential hypothetical plays itself in high definition across the theatre of your mind and each one ends with you being brutally rejected once again. There’s no way you could handle something like that again, no matter how much you’ve matured. 

This is a bad idea, and you need to tell him that.

But then the sight of pleading jades enters your vision and you distinctly remember the permanent frown that etched itself on Hajime’s face these past three months. Remember how the feelings of deep discomfort forced him to confide in you on a late-night phone call when sleep evaded him and he detailed the dread he felt at the prospect of going to school the next school day.

If your mouth even opened a fraction to breathe, you’re sure the “I’m in love with you and have been since sixth grade” will come tumbling out, but even the fear of that happening doesn’t overpower the overwhelming desire to help the man you’re madly in love with.

There’s a limit to what would be forsaken in the name of Iwaizumi Hajime’s happiness, but your sanity isn’t it.

The situation worsens when the subtle shifting of the patrons behind you throws you off balance and forces you impossibly closer to him. The shuffling of feet knocks into your own, tilting you off balance despite your leaning against Hajime. A rebuttal is on the tip of your tongue ready to be released in rapid-fire when Hajime beats you to it. 

He quickly wraps his arm around your waist, allowing your unsteady feet to find balance against his lean body of stone, clutching you tightly to his side as if the accidental push against you were a personal offense. 

The protective nature that so often lies dormant in his personality rears its head forward and you swear your heart stops beating altogether. 

“Easy,” he mutters, a layer of strict dismay interweaving in his words as he casts a pointed side glare at the two boys standing behind you. You hardly hear it, much too occupied with trying not to drown in the sudden flooding of his cologne in your nostrils. 

Musk and spice. His usual scent, but even more addicting when it’s this close. 

This is a bad idea. This is a horrible, bad, awful idea. Bad, bad, bad idea.

You have to end this. You won’t survive this. 

“C-contract.” You, somehow, manage to spit out, shaking your head free from the waft of his scent and the strength of his arm across your back. 

Okay, not necessarily ending this but protecting yourself. Yeah, that’s it. Because there is no way you want him to keep acting like this, no. You’re just doing this to help and totally not to selfishly indulge in the delight of being his, even if it is fake. 

He tears his narrowed eyes away from the boys behind you to glance at you, the remnants of disapproval flickering in the sea of green that you swear only evens out when he looks at you, “Right. What’s in this contract?”

“The, uh, basics,” you begin, voice slowly finding its footing after the intense whiplash you just experienced. You're surprised you can even form words that aren’t resembling proclamations of desire, “What we can and can’t do, how long this is for, and so on.”

“That’s a good idea,” He breathes out. The line shifts forward, and the cashier finally enters the field of view. With a quick recoil, as though his skin were burned by the action, he removes his hand from around your waist. The warmth of his arm rescinds with it, and that thirteen-year-old girl that has fantasized for years about this, whines in desperation. You quickly tell her to shut up.

He clears his throat, awkwardness filling the cramped and stale air, “Uh, sorry. About that.”

He avoids your eyes and you quickly look around too, “It’s fine.”

A silence ensues. It’s not uncomfortable, per se, but it’s a far cry from the brief pauses in conversation that usually occur between the two of you. The comfortable silences that occur naturally between friends of five years. You wonder if you should address it, address the fact that if you two were to pull this off— and pull it off well— there were going to be more moments when he was going to have to touch you like that. 

He was going to have to hold your hand and give you frequent hugs and actually act like he was in love with you. Act. 

You swallow at the prospect. Not like that would be hard for you to do, you think rather pitifully.

There are two more couples in front of you when you say, “I’d like to institute the first provision.”

Hajime quirks an eyebrow, his lips lifting upward, an obvious sign of gratefulness at being able to brush over that weird moment of physicality. He doesn’t know why it was instinctual, or why he even thought that placing his hand that low around your waist would be a good idea. But, he did it; And it’s quite the revelation when he realizes he didn’t mind it. 

At all.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” He glances at you to his right, the teasing smile gracing your features and the recognizable glint of mischief in your eyes. 

“You have to buy all of the food we eat together.”

He scoffs out a laugh, shaking his head, “I already buy all of our food.”

“I always pay you back!”

“You owe me at least three-thousand yen.”

“Okay, an addendum to provision one.”

“Shoot.”

“You buy all of our food and forgive my debts.”

He laughs louder tilting his head back as his teeth peek from his pink lips. It’s the bark of laughter that swells your beating heart with confidence. You may not have him romantically, but there’s no denial of the fact that he likes you in his life, especially when you can make him laugh like that, “I’m starting to think this contract is only beneficial to you.”

It’s your turn to raise an eyebrow at him, the body still tucked tightly beside his as feet shuffle forward in the line, “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m doing you a huge favor.”

“Trust me, I haven’t forgotten.” A silence befalls again, this one not as tense as before. A small smile plays on his lips and there’s a sincerity behind his gaze that reminds you of how appreciative he really is for this. Hajime isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to repay you for stepping in and helping him in the most intimate of ways that you most likely would rather not do. There wasn’t ever an expressed interest in the dating scene from you, always denying the occasional confession that came your way and never thinking twice about the romantic holidays that come and go.

He wonders why because if you tried, you’d have every guy within a ten-foot radius begging for your attention. Surely one of them would be worthy of your love. (He doesn’t agree though. There’s no one in this world who could ever be worthy of you. Not when you smile so brightly and tease so enticingly. No one would ever deserve that part of you. No one that he would ever approve of, anyway..) He’s not dumb in realizing that your willingness to engage in a romantic relationship with him— even if it is a fake one— is a large deviation from the norm. It’s not something to be taken lightly.

So, he owes you. Big time. Whatever you want, whatever you put in this contract, he’ll do. He’ll be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had. 

(Fake boyfriend, he has to remind himself. He swallows down the disappointment.)

“Thank you.” he breaks the silence, rubbing the back of his heating neck, “Again. For doing this for me. I don’t—”

“Ah, ah!” You interrupt, holding your hand upwards and wagging a finger at him, “I haven’t done anything yet, so don’t start thanking me so soon. Who knows? I might sabotage this whole thing, be the worst girlfriend you could ever imagine.” 

 The couple in front of you finishes their order, stepping to the side to allow the both of you forward. You step up, dragging him with you but you don’t miss the low throaty chuckle he emits when he says, “You like me too much to do that.”

He pats the top of your head, smoothing the fly-away hairs with a wink and a sly smile, and then, like nothing even happened, he steps up to the counter, taking the initiative and placing your usual orders. There’s both too much nuance and not enough to his statement to determine if you should be scared at his words. Does he know? Did Oikawa tell him?

You don’t even notice when he puts both food items on one bill. 

It’s then that you remember, with little humor like someone who’s forgotten a necessary step to an important project, that while you’ve done a lot of growing and building these past four years to fortify the walls of your heart, so has he. He’s stronger, more confident, more sturdy. 

Fourteen-year-old you built the walls for a fourteen-year-old Iwaizume Hajime. She didn’t even think to consider the damage eighteen-year-old Ace and Vice-Captain of the Seijoh Volleyball Team could do. Not with a spike those strong arms could make and a sea of green that you still drown in.

The first large crack in the barriers has been made. 

He turns to face you upon finishing the order, stepping to the side and bracing his body against the far wall of the restaurant to allow the next customers to the counter. That damn sly smile is still on his face, and it’s then you realize that he has to know. He has to know what he’s doing, or at least know that it’s doing something to you.

“So,” he tucks his hands into the pockets of his uniform pants, biceps bulging at the action “tell me about this contract, sweet girlfriend of mine.”

end notes: god damn glad that’s over. what did yall think?? too much? not enough? lemme know! i love reading all of your tags and comments, it fills me with such happiness :))))

tag list: @bruh-kill-me @owlnymph @airybnb @yukiilu-personal @cathwritestragediesnotsins @berna-dette​

[ukulelecal]

Bloom - Part Two

The story of flowers.

Pairing: Poet!Luke Hemmings x Female!OC

Warnings: a bit more angst but def more fluff. implied smut. a couple swears probably. hella feelings. mentions of anxiety

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: here is the second part!! less sad than the first!! lol anyways, i hope you guys love it, there will be one more part after this! reminder that feedback and reblogs are sosososo important to creators x 

series masterlist

my masterlist // posted on ao3

*One year later*

Devon’s new school wasn’t all that she had imagined it to be.

Her classes were great. She was learning so much and her professors were very encouraging and helpful. Everything else, however, wasn’t so ideal.

She wasn’t fond of her classmates. Perhaps she was just so used to her old school, but everyone rubbed her the wrong way. She had only found a few friends that she trusted, but she didn’t even see them much. They had attended undergrad at that school, and they already knew everyone. Devon couldn’t quite make her way into the friend group.

She wasn’t a fan of the city, either. It simply didn’t have the vibe or the excitement that home did.

Home. She tried not to use that word to describe where she once lived, but her mind continuously went back to it. She knew exactly why.

That’s where Luke was.

Devon hadn’t heard from him since she moved. She left with a very brief goodbye and good luck wish, but that was it. She held back her tears during the Uber ride to the airport and all through the plane ride.

Luke, now alone in the apartment, broke down as soon as she left. He should have been the one taking her to the airport, kissing her goodbye and promising that everything would be okay. But nothing was okay anymore.

It had been a year since Devon moved, and the now broken up couple was doing a lot better. Devon distracted herself with schoolwork and trying to find her place in her new environment. She took up kickboxing as well as a way to let out her emotions, although the muscles she was developing were a plus as well.

Luke still had the same coping mechanism he always had; writing poetry. He poured his heart and soul into countless poems. They were completely raw, completely honest. He held nothing back. Frankly, they were his best work.

Devon’s first year of grad school officially came to an end. It was as if a weight was lifted off her shoulders. She couldn’t say she was happy there, but she wasn’t there to make friends. She was there to get her master’s, and she wasn’t going to quit. For herself and for her family.

A very unexpected text quickly changed any plans that Devon might have had for the summer.

It was from Luke.

“Hey Devon. I know it’s been a while and I hope grad school is going well. But it's official. My first poetry book is getting published. You probably don’t want to hear from me, and I understand, but you were always the person that believed in me the most. Thank you for that. Truly. I wouldn’t be here without you. I’m having a release party in a few weeks. Nothing big, just close friends and family. It would mean a lot to me if you came.”

Her heart skipped a beat as soon as she saw his name flash across her screen. Not a single word had been exchanged between them in the past year. A part of Devon had been wishing that he would reach out, even if it was just to say hi and check in. She almost texted him a few times, but something always stopped her.

Hearing from him after so long brought an array of emotions, but the one that overwhelmed her the most was pride.

Devon knew how much this meant to him. He opened up to her about it on their very first date freshman year. She remembered sitting across from him at the coffee shop on campus, and the way his eyes lit up as he talked about releasing a book. She found his passion admirable, and she had every faith in him that he would succeed. She was his biggest supporter through the years; she was there to comfort him when he got rejected and help him through his bouts of writer’s block. He always told her that she was his biggest inspiration. Most of his poems ended up being about her in some capacity.

Despite everything that happened between, Devon couldn’t fathom missing this momentous time in his life.

With a deep breath, she typed out a reply.

“I would love to come. It means a lot that you thought of me.”

The weeks leading up to the party were utterly nerve wracking, for both Devon and Luke.

It took Luke a few days to work up the courage to invite Devon. He was scared she hated him and wouldn’t care to come, that she would be appalled at him thinking even for a second that she might want to see him again. It took a lot of convincing from Ashton, a college friend that he invited to move into the apartment once Luke realized he couldn’t afford the rent on his own and that he couldn’t stand being in the apartment by himself, but he did it. Luke wasn’t sure he breathed at all in the minutes it took her to respond.

Now that she was officially attending, it left the two to question what seeing each other would be like after a year apart. Would it be awkward? Would they end up having another argument and cause more pain? Would they be unrecognizable to each other?

The uncertainty was painstaking, but Devon reminded herself that she was there to support Luke, and Luke reminded himself that he would have given up a long time ago if it weren’t for Devon.

The time finally came for the release party. They both hardly slept the night before. Luke was alone in the bed that he used to share with the woman he hadn’t seen in a year, while she laid in a hotel bed just blocks away. Things felt different knowing that they weren’t hundreds of miles away anymore, and the next day they would see each other.

Devon pandered around her hotel room all day, doing her best to distract herself. She scrolled through every channel on the television, but nothing kept her attention. She did a workout, but every song on her workout playlist managed to remind her of Luke in some way.

They day dragged on until it was finally time for Devon to get ready. She played calming music in the shower to slow her heart rate and took her time doing her hair and makeup. It took some effort to steady her hands, but she got the job done.

Luke had been able to keep himself busy all day. A couple of his friends, Calum and Michael, shared a flat that was decently bigger than Luke’s apartment, and graciously offered to host the party there. Him and Ashton went over there early to make sure the place was clean and that all the food and drinks were ready.

Once guests started arriving, the nerves came back in full force.

He could only hope that he was really ready to see Devon.

For her, the Uber ride to the address Luke gave her hit every single red light. She bounced her leg in the back seat, unsure if she was thankful for the longer ride or if she hated it. On one hand, it gave her more time to prepare herself. However, every passing second made her nervousness increase.

Time stopped when the car parked in front of the flat.

She stared at it for a moment, the fact that Luke was just inside making her fingers tremble.

She didn’t realize she was still sitting there until the driver asked her if she was okay. She quickly thanked him and climbed out of the car.

Devon slowly made her way up the walkway, reminding herself with each step that this was a huge deal for Luke. His dreams were finally coming true. He had expressed to her that he credited her in part for his success. He must not have harbored any major negative feelings against her, otherwise she wouldn’t have been invited.

She almost felt a sense of calm as she reached the front door.

She slowly pushed it open, Luke having told her it would be unlocked and she could let herself in. Once inside, she didn’t see him right away. She recognized some friends from her undergraduate days, but nobody seemed to notice her right away.

A tall figure came out from the kitchen, and Devon had to do a double take.

Luke had certainly grown in their year apart.

His curls were shorter in the back and longer on top, and it looked like they had been dyed at some point. He opted for a pair of glasses instead of contacts, and he had a beard. She had never seen him with more than some stubble. He had on a forest green sweater that she always said was her favorite; she wondered if he had worn it on purpose. She couldn’t blame him if he did, considering she was wearing the long sleeved, yellow floral dress that Luke always said he loved on her.

He looked completely different, but at the same time, he was still her Luke.

All of her anxieties melted away the second he looked at her.

“Devon.”

It felt so natural. It was as if all of the pain that came from the last time they saw each other had gone away. They both knew in the back of their minds there wasn’t any bad blood between them, as much as their breakup hurt. Neither had exactly done anything wrong.

“You made it,” he continued through a deep breath.

“You know I wouldn’t miss this for the world, Lu.”

Devon looked the same. Her hair was a little longer than the last time he saw her, and he could tell that she had put on some muscle from the way she filled out her dress a little more. She looked good, healthy.

Luke silently thanked whoever was listening that she seemed alright, at least physically. He could acknowledge that he went into a bit of a downward spiral in terms of taking care of himself when she left. He hardly slept and completely shut himself out from everyone that reached out to him. Ashton moving in helped, but certain days made it bad again, like when their anniversary and Devon’s birthday passed. He didn’t want the same for her. He wanted her to do better than him.

Devon had her bad days too. She did better at the beginning when she had so much on her plate, but once things settled down, she was a wreck for a while, not much different than what Luke was like.

He hesitated only a moment before taking Devon into his arms. He prepared himself for her to pull away, but she did quite the opposite. She melted into him, cheek resting against the soft material of his sweater.

Devon remembered all the times she needed a hug. Whenever she had a bad day or was stressed out over school or simply just wanted to be held, Luke was always there. He would mumble a soft assurance under his breath as he took her into his arms, holding her tight as if she’d be gone forever if he let go. He would whisper whatever it was she needed to hear at the moment, although sometimes it was nothing at all.

She didn’t realize how badly she needed this one.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Dev,” Luke whispered into her hair. He could smell the same coconut shampoo she always used and the warm, sweet perfume she always wore. It brought a sense of comfort and familiarity.

“I’m glad to be here. I...I really missed you, Luke.”

The confession felt good. She tried to deny the fact that she missed him, but seeing him again, she realized how much she really had.

“I missed you too.”

Luke pulled away from the hug and kept his hands on Devon’s shoulders. The same blue eyes met the same brown ones. The ghosts of smiles tugged at their corners of their lips. Every worry they had about seeing each other had gone away.

“I want to say congratulations on your book,” Devon mumbled, fiddling with the small clutch she brought. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” he responded, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks. “I have to say, I-”

His sentence got caught off by a shout of his name from an arriving guest. He sighed and sent Devon an apologetic look. There was a lot that needed to be said, so much that needed to be talked about, but they knew that this wasn’t the time or place to do so.

“It’s fine, go on. We’ll catch up later, bub-” she cut herself off, the pet name she called him so often about to slip from her lips so naturally. “Okay?”

Luke sighed sadly but gave her a smile. He understood why she stopped herself, but God, he would have loved to hear her call him that again.

“Okay. See you in a bit, Dev.”

Luke slowly walked away to greet the new arrivals while Devon wandered off to find people she knew. She came across her good friends from undergrad - mutual between her and Luke - who thankfully seemed excited to see her. They made small talk and asked about grad school before easing into questions about Luke. She should have expected it, but she hadn’t talked much about the breakup since it first happened. It was easy to simply not mention it to her grad school group and they wouldn’t know the difference, but these were the girls that she called sobbing at random times during the day when she needed to talk. It was natural that they were curious.

“Did you two talk at all while you were gone?” One asked, and Devon shook her head.

“No,” she sighed. “I think that was best, though.”

Devon’s eyes trailed to the right. Luke was talking to some family members, laughing. A small grin tugged at the corners of her lips. His laugh was musical and contagious. She always felt proud of herself when she made him laugh. Not that it was a difficult task; he loved to laugh. For Devon, getting to hear the noise was like a gift.

“Dev!”

She snapped her gaze back to her friends. Their expressions were a mixture of smug and concerned. It was obvious that Devon hadn’t gotten over Luke in the past year. She still looked at him the same way she always did. They were still concerned that she would get her heart broken again.

“You still love him, don’t you?”

Devon glanced over at him one more time. She tried to convince herself that she didn’t. She almost threw away her shoebox of poems just to prove it to herself, but she couldn’t do it. It would always be him.

“Of course I do.”

…

The rest of the night, Luke and Devon didn’t speak. They weren’t avoiding each other, but the weight of the conversation they needed to have required the crowd to go away and the festivities to die down before it could happen. They exchanged glances and small smiles, saving the talking for later.

Devon purposely hung back as the crowd startled to trickle out the door. Luke had made a small speech thanking everyone for coming and celebrating with him. Everyone took it as the hint that the party was over. Deciding to help out while she waited, Devon busied herself cleaning up a bit in the kitchen.

Footsteps caught her attention, but they didn’t belong to who she figured they did. Instead of seeing Luke, she saw Ashton. He was Luke’s best friend, and while him and Devon never got super close, she still considered him a friend.

“Hey, Dev,” Ashton greeted with a grin, opening his arms for a hug that she gladly accepted.

“Hi, Ash. How have you been?”

“Good. Just working,” he chuckled as he pulled away from the hug. “You? How’s grad school?”

“It’s pretty good.” Good if he asked about her academics and not her social life, that is.

“That’s good.”

Ashton leaned against the counter across from her, shooting her a look. She raised her eyebrows in expectation.

“Luke’s been freaking out, you know,” Ashton mumbled, sticking his hands in his pockets. “About seeing you.”

Devon sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Somehow, knowing that he was nervous too was comforting.

“Glad it wasn’t just me.”

“He really missed you. I’m sure he’ll tell you all this himself, but in case you don’t believe him, take it from me. He missed you so, so much.”

Devon couldn’t help but smile a little. It was good to hear it from someone else.

“I missed him too. A lot.”

Before Ashton could reply, Luke stepped into the kitchen, eyes flickering back and forth between his best friend and his ex girlfriend. Words got caught in Devon and Luke’s throats, neither of them sure what to say.

“I guess that’s my cue to get out,” Ashton joked, breaking the awkward silence. “Let me know when you’re ready to go home, Luke.”

The man walked out of the kitchen to help Calum and Michael clean up in the living room while Devon turned to look at Luke with furrowed eyebrows.

“Home?” She questioned.

“Ashton moved into the apartment a little while after you left,” Luke admitted, scratching the back of his neck. He took Ashton’s spot against the counter. “I needed a roommate to help with the rent.”

He left out the fact that being alone in there only reminded him that she was gone and he needed someone to keep him company.

Devon nodded in understanding, but felt another twinge of guilt. She hadn’t considered that she was leaving the financial burden onto him. Thankfully Ashton was there.

“How was your night?” Devon asked genuinely. The party was to celebrate his success, and she genuinely hoped he enjoyed it.

“It was really great.” Luke sent her a thankful grin. “I know I said it before, but it really means a lot to me that you’re here. I was afraid you wouldn’t want to come.”

“This is everything you’ve ever wanted. After everything we’ve been through, I would never miss this moment in your life.”

Devon sent him a sad smile that he returned. There was still so much that needed to be said, so much to discuss. A tension hung between them, but not one of anxiety or dread. It was desperation and desire. A yearning for what they once had.

“We need to talk, Dev,” Luke whispered what they were both thinking. “Like, really talk.”

“I know we do.” She glanced at the clock on the wall beside his head. “But it’s getting late. My flight back isn’t until Monday. Maybe we can meet up tomorrow, if you’re free? Get lunch?”

Luke nodded in agreement. It would be best if they both got some sleep and recharged before talking seriously.

“That sounds good.” Luke turned to look at the clock as well and laughed. “I know it’s past your bedtime.”

Devon rolled her eyes playfully. She was the “go to bed early, wake up early” type, while Luke was the opposite.

“Exactly. I need my beauty sleep.”

“Boy, do I know it.”

The two laughed together, for the first time in a long time. It felt so right.

“I should head back then,” Devon announced, reaching behind to grab her clutch that she had set on the counter. “Let me just call an Uber and I’ll be out of here.”

“Don’t worry about that. Ash and I came together, he’ll drive you back. Where are you staying?”

Not one to turn down a free ride, Devon rattled off the name of her hotel. Luke led her to the living room to get Ashton and say goodbye to Calum and Michael. Luke thanked them again for letting him have the party at their place before they were out the door and piled in Ashton’s car. Luke took shotgun while Devon slipped into the back.

The ride to the hotel was quiet. Only Ashton’s soft indie music and the sound of other cars filled the car. Shortly, Ashton pulled to a stop in front of Devon’s hotel. Luke turned around in his seat to face her.

“Thanks again for coming, Dev,” he mumbled softly, a grin on his face.

“Thanks for inviting me. And thanks for the ride, Ashton.” He nodded in acknowledgement before she turned her gaze back to Luke. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Tomorrow. Who knows what tomorrow would bring?

“See you tomorrow.”

Devon climbed out of the car and headed towards the doors, sparing one last glance and a wave before heading inside. Luke watched as she walked in, a small sigh escaping his lips. He turned his head to see Ashton with a smirk on his face.

“What?” Luke questioned.

“You still love her, don’t you, mate?”

Luke sighed again, glancing back towards the doors. Devon was already out of sight, probably in the elevator already. He knew exactly what she was going to do when she got to her room. She would kick off her shoes and then take her makeup off. She’d go through her night time skin care routine, put her hair in a bun with a silk scrunchie, and finally change into her pajamas, which were usually just a big t-shirt and panties. She would probably spend some time reading or watching cooking videos on TikTok before going to bed.

“Of course I do.”

…

Devon swiped one last bit of lip gloss across her lips when Luke texted her that he was outside. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her purse and phone before heading downstairs to meet him.

The anxiety was coming back. Seeing Luke was one thing, but having a full on conversation was another. It didn’t help that the conversation would surely lead to the topic of their relationship. Their breakup.

Luke was feeling similarly. He had paced around the apartment all morning until Ashton gave him a pep talk. He reminded him that if they didn’t talk, Devon would just leave again and nothing would change. Nothing would get fixed.

The sound of a creaky car door opening snapped Luke from his thoughts, looking up to see Devon climbing in. He sent her a smile.

“Hey, Dev.”

“Hey, Luke. Bertha’s still kicking, I see?” Devon joked as she buckled her seatbelt. She knew that Luke wasn’t going to get rid of his beloved Prius until absolutely necessary, but the fact that the car still functioned at all was shocking.

“I think it might be her time soon, but for now, she gets me where I need to go.”

Bertha survived the drive to the small diner that Devon and Luke agreed on, albeit the radio cut out a few times. It was a new place and Luke had been wanting to try it. A part of Devon wondered if he really wanted to try it or if he just didn’t want to take her to one of the places that they frequented when they were together. Frankly, she wouldn’t have wanted to go to one of their old spots either. It would have felt too odd.

Once inside and seated, a waitress came to take coffee orders before scurrying away.

“Tell me about grad school,” Luke began, saving the more serious topics of conversation for later. It was best to start off casual and simply catch up on everything that had happened in the past year.

“It’s alright,” Devon sighed. She would have fibbed, but she felt no need to lie to Luke. “My classes are great. I’ve learned so much and my professors are awesome. It’s just…”

She trailed off, unsure how to put her thoughts into words without sounding pathetic. She didn’t want Luke to judge her.

“What?” He pressed gently, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“It’s the other students, I guess. Everyone at our school was so great, but the people there are just not so friendly. And most of the other grad students did undergrad there, so I couldn’t really fit my way into a friend group. And there’s just not as much to do in the city as there is here,” she explained, her hands occupying themselves with the napkin in her lap.

She locked eyes with Luke, waiting for his response. He could have used it against her. He could have guilt tripped her for leaving and then not being happy. But Luke would never do that and Devon knew it.

“Well that’s not good,” he mumbled sincerely. “I’m sorry, Dev.”

He truly did feel bad. Every day while Devon was gone, he thought about her. He hoped she was having a good day and that her education was going well. It pained him to think that she wasn’t having a great time.

“It’s okay. I mean, I’m there for my master’s, not to make friends.” The waitress came back with their drinks and took their lunch orders. “Anyways, tell me about your book! What happened with the publishers and everything?”

The fact that Devon’s grad school wasn’t everything that she had imagined was still bothering him but Luke went along, knowing she wouldn’t want to talk about it.

“I sent another draft to one of the ones that was interested before, a while after you left. He said he liked the majority of it but wanted a few different ones. It took me a while to figure out what he wanted, but eventually I got it,” he rambled. “I’m really happy with it.”

“I’m glad,” she replied, heart swelling with pride. “When does it come out?”

“Next week.”

Devon hummed in acknowledgement, already making a mental note to pick up a copy for herself.

“How about work?” She questioned after a sip of her cappuccino.

“You’ll never believe it,” Luke chuckled. “I got promoted to a manager position.”

“Really? It’s about time!”

Devon and Luke had a running joke about Luke’s job. He had been there the longest other than the owner, an old woman who still moved like a teenager. She always hung a promotion over his head, suggesting it but never following through. Luke knew she was planning on giving it to him eventually. It was just a matter of time until she actually did, and the two would always make jokes about it.

They made small talk until their food came, causing the duo to fall into silence. Meaningless conversation about the weather could only last so long until what really needed to be talked about came out.

Soup and sandwiches didn’t last long enough. Their plates were cleared and there was no point in stalling anymore.

“I think we fucked up.”

Luke’s statement was unsugarcoated. He couldn't say for sure how Devon felt, but every day throughout the past year, Luke felt like he was making a mistake. Everyone around them was shocked at the news of their breakup; if there were any college sweethearts that would actually last, it would be them. That certainly didn’t help Luke’s pain when everyone else knew it was a mistake too.

Devon felt tears burn the back of her eyes as she nodded softly. He was right. Perhaps it was best at the time, but they couldn’t do another year of being apart.

“I think we did.”

Her voice broke, taking a deep breath to calm herself down and not cry in the restaurant.

“Hey,” Luke cooed soothingly, noticing the tears and reaching across the table for her hand. As his hand encased hers, at that moment, everything felt like it was going to be okay. “Maybe we should go somewhere more private.”

Luke paid the check and made their way back to Bertha. The need for privacy left them with two options; Devon’s hotel room or the apartment.

“Maybe we could go to my hotel room,” Devon suggested. “That way we won’t bother Ashton.”

That was only part of the reason. Devon wasn’t sure how she would feel if she stepped into her old home in the current state of their relationship. All of the memories her and Luke had would come flooding back. The hotel room was a neutral place without connection to what once was.

Luke agreed and drove to the location he remembered from the night before. The elevator ride up to Devon’s room was heavily silent, hands brushing against each other but never interlocking. The sound of the door shutting behind them once in the room was thunderous, the sound signifying that there was absolutely nothing between them and the inevitable anymore.

They stood in the middle of the room for a moment, looking anywhere but each other. There was no good way to start the conversation. There was no easy way to talk about a painful breakup that led to a year apart, then being reunited.

Without the right words in mind, Devon threw herself at Luke. She wrapped her arms tight around his middle and buried her head into his chest. Luke returned the gesture, holding her as close as he could. The hug said more than what either of them could put into words.

It wasn’t until a few minutes that Devon finally found something to say.

“I can’t keep doing this, Lu,” she whispered shakily. “I can’t keep missing you like this.”

“This is all my fault, Dev. I was the one who didn’t think we could do it. Fuck, honey, I’m so sorry.”

Devon surely didn’t think it was his fault. He had every right to be upset that she was moving so far away, and he had every right to be scared of what the distance would do to their relationship. She felt the same way. They broke up to spare themselves the pain of long distance. It hadn’t taken long for them to realize that the pain of being broken up was much, much worse.

As much as she tried to push the thoughts away, Devon couldn’t help thinking about how if she hadn’t left, this wouldn’t have happened. She knew that she did nothing wrong and that her education was just as important, but she had never intended to pursue it in expense of her relationship.

“This isn’t your fault. It was both of us. We were just saving ourselves from the pain. Besides, I was the one that left-”

“No,” Luke cut her off, glancing down at her. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this. You did absolutely nothing wrong.”

Devon lifted her head up to meet his gaze. His face was serious but his eyes were completely sincere. She had always feared that he would hold a grudge against her for leaving. One look into the gorgeous blue eyes that she fell in love with told her that he didn’t.

“I never want you to blame this on you going to grad school. I want you to know that I completely support your decision and all your aspirations, honey. I will never hold that against you.”

Tears brimmed Devon’s eyes again, but these weren’t tears of pain. They were of love and adoration. Luke was the most amazing man she had ever known. He had a heart of gold and was one hell of a poet. She had never felt so loved as she felt by him.

“Please tell me this isn’t over, Luke,” she whispered, hands moving to cup his bearded cheeks. A single tear slipped down the soft skin of Devon’s cheek. “I love you. I never stopped. Please tell me there can be an us again.”

Luke wasn’t sure when he started crying, but a sudden wetness on his cheek alerted him of the act. His hands tugged Devon’s waist to bring her closer, noses brushing touching and breath mingling. They could hardly remember the last time they had been that close, the last time they felt love so intensely.

“I’ve wanted us back since that day a year ago. I love you more than anything, Devon. Always have, always will.”

For the first time in over a year, Luke and Devon’s lips connected in a kiss. It was nothing short of passionate and heavy. The love they hadn’t been able to express for so long was rising to the surface, coming out in the form of mumbled words, bruising kisses and desperate touches.

Frantic fingers worked the buttons of Devon’s flannel, slowly pushing her backwards until the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed. The offending item was discarded to the floor and the newly reunited couple crawled onto the bed. Devon shivered under Luke, a reaction caused by a mixture of the cool sheets against her bare back and his lips on her neck, his beard providing a new sensation that she hadn’t felt before.

The past year was difficult. If they could go back in time and fix it, they would jump on the opportunity without a second thought. But just maybe, it made them stronger. Maybe they needed to begin to wilt in order for them to bloom.

…

“What do we do now?”

Devon curled closer to Luke as a crisp breeze cut through the darkening evening. He sighed and wrapped the blanket tighter around them.

“I’m not sure.”

The couple sat in the trunk of Luke’s car with the door popped open, parked at a lookout point that overlooked the city. It was something they used to do all the time in college. It was comforting to return to their old traditions, knowing that they had fixed what they broke.

It was Sunday evening, the day before Devon flew back to her grad school city. They may have gotten back together, but they were still faced with the same problem as when they broke up. Devon still had a whole year of grad school left, miles away.

“I’m not sure I want to go back,” Devon admitted, eyes fixed on the city lights. Luke snapped his head to look at her, eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you mean? Are you saying you don’t want to finish your degree?”

Luke would never forgive himself if she gave up her master’s degree because of him. He didn’t want the distance either, but he could never hold her back from her dreams.

“No, no, I want to finish. I just...I wasn’t happy in that city. This is my home. I’m happy here,” she explained. She tore her eyes away from the view in favor of looking at her boyfriend. “With you.”

Luke dipped his head down, pressing a kiss to her temple. Devon leaned into the affection that she had missed so much.

“It’s up to you, honey. I don’t want to hold you back. Just know that if you do stay there, I’m going to really try this time. I promise we’ll make it work, and I’ll be here for you no matter what.”

Devon grinned at his words. She didn’t realize how much she needed to hear that; that the past wouldn’t repeat itself. However, she didn’t want to put either of them through the suffering of a long distance relationship when she didn’t even want to be away.

“I appreciate that, bubs. But I just can’t do that to us after everything we’ve been through.” She thought for a moment, trying to decipher the best course of action. “Maybe I could finish online.”

Luke nodded in acknowledgement; it was a good compromise. Devon got to finish her degree at the school with the best program, and she didn’t have to be so far away. It benefitted Luke as well, not just her. However, he didn’t want to sway her either way.

“If that’s what you want, honey. This is your decision.”

He gave her shoulders a squeeze as she thought it over. The only sounds to be heard were the gentle hum of the city below them and the cold breeze that ruffled the trees. It was so familiar. They had spent countless nights like this, simply enjoying each other’s company and rewinding from hectic college life. Luke had to remind himself that they weren’t undergraduate students anymore; Devon was in grad school and he was a published poet.

It was baffling how everything felt like it had gone back to the way it was, yet things were actually so very different.

“That’s what I want,” Devon announced with confidence after a few moments of pondering. “I want to stay here.”

Matching lovesick grins spread across their faces as they locked eyes. She scooted closer to Luke, if that was even possible, nudging her nose against his.

“You’re sure?” He verified, eyes fluttering closed.

“So very sure.”

He chuckled lowly before closing the gap. The air between them was finally clear. Their relationship was fixed and they would still be together. No more pain and suffering.

Devon rested her head on Luke’s shoulder when the kiss broke, breathing out a content sigh. They enjoyed the silence for a moment before Devon piped up with a question.

“Can I move back into the apartment?”

“Of course you can,” Luke chuckled. “That’s our place. Why couldn’t you?”

“What about Ashton?”

“He understands our situation, babe. He saw this coming. He already asked Calum and Michael if he could take the extra bedroom at their flat if it came to this, and they agreed. As long as you’re fine with living with him for a little while until he moves out, then he’s fine with it too.”

Devon let out a breathy laugh, nodding in understanding.

“I mean, I’ll still have to go back to my apartment out there for a bit to get my stuff.” She looked up at Luke with a hopeful glint in her eye. “Do you think you could come with and help? It’s alright if you can’t.”

“I can come, honey. I’ll see if I can fly out with you tomorrow, but if not I can come a couple days later, so you don’t have to change yours.” A smirk spread across his face before continuing. “Or we could just wait to go together and stay here for another few days. You know, catch up a little more.”

Devon laughed and playfully rolled her eyes, nudging his shoulder.

“What a way with words you have, Hemmings. No wonder you’re a poet.”

“Speaking of poetry, I have something for you.”

Luke pressed a swift kiss to Devon’s cheek before hopping out of the trunk. He opened the door to the back seat and rifled around for a moment, then returning to face Devon. He removed his hand from behind his back, holding it out to her.

“For you.”

Devon took the item from his hand curiously. It only took a moment for her to realize what it was.

It was a book titled The Life of a Flower. The cover was a stunning photo of two orchids side by side, and Luke’s name was printed across the bottom.

His first poetry book.

“You’re the first person to get a copy,” he mumbled sheepishly, breaking Devon from her trance of staring at it. She couldn’t help the tears of pride that welled in her eyes. If seeing the actual, physical book in person was such an emotional moment for her, she couldn’t even imagine how Luke must have felt when he saw it for the first time.

“This is incredible, Luke,” she whispered, smiling despite her tears. “I’m so proud of you, bubs, so fucking proud.”

Devon dropped the blanket from her shoulders and hopped down from the trunk. Her arms found their way around his neck while his found her waist. Pride was an understatement. She had been there every step of the way, and seeing his dreams finally come to life was a wonderful sight to see.

“Thank you, Devon,” Luke whispered into her hair. “For being my biggest supporter. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

“It’s not me, Lu,” she mumbled in response, tilting her head up to look at him. “You have a gift. Your writing got you here, not me.”

“I would have given up on writing a long time ago if I didn’t have you. You give me an endless amount of inspiration that I never had before. A poet’s words are meaningless if his muse isn’t worth writing about.”

“Damn. William Shakespeare has nothing on you,” she joked although she was absolutely melting on the inside. Luke groaned playfully.

“You always ruin the moment. Anyway, look at the first pages.”

Devon removed her arms from his neck to flip through, skipping past the title page, copyright and table of contents until she found what he was talking about. She found a dedications page that only made her tear up again, reading:

“For Devon. You’ll always be my orchid.”

[captain-josslett]

Broken Melody - Part Sixteen

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen,

Summary: Grammy Award winning Emma Danvers is the first to say she has a pretty good life. But what happens when it implodes around her and it looks like things will never be the same again?

Words: 3.7k+

Warnings: Angst, Injury, Comfort, Flashbacks, Angst… Angst (basically don’t need to change this for a while... right?), Fighting.

Pairings: Emma Danvers x Lena Luthor

This Part: The sister try to start to heal from the incident.

Despite what has happened this week with my uncle (who is fighting), I managed to write something. Hope its okay. 

Thank you for reading and let me know if you wanna be tagged or any general feedback will be greatly appreciated. Please! I like knowing your thoughts.

Taglist: @finleyfray, @life-is-hella-unfair, @natasha-danvers​, @supergirl-writingz, @camslightstories, @thinking1bee, @aznblossom​

“Come in.” Lena calls out and Emma presses herself closer to her girlfriend. Not wanting to see who walks into the room. Ever since her Mom told her about the therapists visit Emma has felt a bit on edge.

“Good morning Emma. How are you?” J’onn’s voice calls out softly.

‘Fine.’ Emma thinks apprehensively as she clings to Lena’s black shirt. Her ears pick up a strange noise that fills the room. Like a tapping sound.

“Love? It’s okay. Relax.” Lena tries to soothe her tense girlfriend as she feels Emma trying to pull her even closer. Gently she rubs her hands up and down the blonde’s back.

“Emma? Can I introduce you to a very close friend of mine?” J’onn asks softfully, sensing the nerves rolling off the blonde.

Emma takes a shuddering deep breath in and out. ‘Yes.’ Slowly she unclenches her fist from Lena’s shirt and turns to where J’onn is standing. Her eyes then focus on the man next to him. A white middle aged, ginger haired man with sparkling, kind blue eyes that's situated behind brown oval glasses. She looks him up and down, his dress sense screams therapist. A navy tweed jacket with leather elbow patches, a grey suit vest, matching grey trousers with black leather shoes, a navy tie and a white shirt.  

“Emma this is Doctor Alistair Harris.” J’onn places his hand on the newcomers shoulder. “He has helped me in more ways than I can possibly describe. I trust him completely.”

Doctor Harris gives J’onn a small smile before turning to the blonde. “It’s an honour to meet you Ms Danvers.” The Doctor inclines his head forward in a bow. His voice is soft and soothing, making the blonde feel more at ease.

‘Emma. Please call me Emma.’ The blonde thinks softly. Still feeling weird doing using her thoughts to communicate.

“Then please call me Alistair.” He smiles kindly at her and Emma returns it.

Lena glances between the two. Momentarily forgetting they are communicating through Emma’s thoughts.

A whine draws Emma and Lena’s attention to the floor. “And please let me introduce Lily.”

If Emma could have squealed, she would have. Laying by Alistiar’s feet was the most gorgeous dog Emma has ever seen. A White German Shepherd with beautiful blue eyes that almost look grey.

Lily gazes up at the pair on the bed and when her eyes connected with Emma’s she gets up and curiously approaches the bed. Emma watches Lily sniffing and tilting her head at her.

“Seems she likes you.” Alistair's smiles encouragingly. “Lily here is a therapy dog. I’ve had her since she was a puppy. Got her for a decent price as the breeder thought she was the runt due to her colouring and eyes.” The Doctor strokes Lily’s head fondly. “If you want you can pet her. Just slowly reach out your hand and let her come to you.”

Emma cautiously extends her hand and Lily stares at it intently. When Emma has fully stretched out her hand Lily moves forward and sniffs it before dipping her head under Emma’s hand. Allowing Emma to pet her.

‘Her fur is so soft!’ Emma is transfixed as she runs her hands through the glorious fur.

“Lena.” J’onn gets the CEO’s attention. “Would you mind leaving Alistair and Emma to talk?”

Emma’s hand freezes for a moment, making Lily nuzzle her head up to get Emma to continue.

“Em, is that okay?” Lena asks gently. Her girlfriend turns to look at her and Lena can see the dread in her hazel green eyes. “You’ll be fine.” Lena tries to reassure the blonde as she continues to stroke Emma’s back.

Emma lifts her hands, causing Lily to whine in response. “Will you go to work?” Emma signs hesitantly.

“Yes, but I can always come back if you need me.” Lena says trying to encourage her girlfriend. Finally Emma nods and leans in for a hug. “I love you.” Lena whispers into Emma’s ear and she feels Emma squeeze her shoulder three times. Lena pulls away slightly. “Can I kiss you?” Lena asks gently and Emma nods. Their lips connect and Lena can feel Emma melt.

‘Rao I miss being able to tell you how much I love you.’ Emma thinks as her hands run through Lena’s hair.

J’onn coughs lightly, making Lena break the kiss and Emma huffs.

Lena chuckles at the noise, quickly kisses Emma's lips again and gracefully slides off the bed. Immediately missing the feeling of Emma in her arms. She promptly puts on her burgundy vest and jacket, not missing the way Emma stares at her. Lena smirks knowing how much Emma loves her suits. Grabbing her bag Lena places a loving kiss on her girlfriend’s lips. “I’ll see you later love.”

Emma sadly waves at her and watches her go. Sighing heavily at the feeling of her heart leaving with Lena. Suddenly she jumps when Lily presses her nose into her knee.

“Sorry about that. Lily can sense your distress.” Alistair softly explains and Emma strokes Lily’s head.

‘It’s okay.’ Emma turns her attention to J’onn. ‘Are you staying?’

“No, but I just wanted to say how proud I am of you.”

‘Aww! Come here!’ Emma opens her arms and J’onn stands there for a moment before approaching the blonde and hugging her. When he pulls away he nods at Doctor Harris and leaves the room in search of Eliza.

The ginger haired man places a chair beside Emma that is far enough away that he isn’t invading the blonde’s space.

Feeling a bit uneasy at being left alone with the therapist Emma gazes out of the window at the clear blue sky. For a moment she can’t remember the last time she was outside until flashes of moments with her sisters, arm in arm as they head to… Somewhere.

“Lovely day isn’t it?” Alistair comments lightly, breaking Emma out of her thoughts. Drawing her attention away from the clear blue sky and regard him instead.

‘Yea, the sky is such a rich blue today.’ The colour fills Emma’s mind as she remembers items with similar colours. The roofs in Santorini, the blue of a butterfly's wings, the stunning blue of Kara’s eyes. Red glowing eyes.

“By the sounds of it you are also an artist?” Doctor Harris snaps her out of her thoughts again. Lily also rests her head on Emma’s lap and the blonde runs her fingers through the silky fur.

‘I am in my spare time. If I wasn’t a singer I’ve been told it could be my full time job.’

Then. Emma freezes. Causing Lily to start licking Emma’s hands.

“Emma?”

The blonde blinks returning back into the room. ‘I guess, it probably will be. If I can’t get my voice back I mean.’ Emma’s head dips as grief overcomes her.

“This is a cliche question and I swear I won’t always ask this. But how do you feel about that?”

‘Devastated. Music has been my whole life. It makes me feel whole. Complete.’ Emma takes a deep breath. ‘The feeling I get before going on a stage, the applause. Knowing I’m giving my all and connecting with hundreds of people. I can’t describe it.’

The recent tour plays in Emma’s mind. The chanting crowd, the buzz when Emma hits the high notes. Her belts that feel like they ripple the very air around her. The warmth at seeing Lena and her sisters in the crowd...

“So the trauma of losing your voice, as well as the events that caused it. Sounds tough.”

‘Yea. Though I still don’t remember everything fully. I mean, it couldn’t have been that bad.’ Emma shrugs and sighs. She looks down at Lily who is watching her closely. Emma’s heart jolts at how adorable the dog is.

“You were in a coma for five days and J’onn told me you would have died if not for your girlfriend’s serum.”

Emma’s eyes quickly flick up to the Doctors and she tilts her head, her eyes squinting slightly. ‘What serum?’

“Miss Luthor didn’t tell you?” Alistair asks hesitantly.

‘Lena. Her name is Lena.” Emma immediately thinks before shaking her head and frowns. ‘But whatever she did saved my life?’

“Yes.”

Emma goes through her interactions to everyone but not remembering anyone telling her about a serum. A pang of worry fills her chest. ‘Why would they need to use a serum?’ Emma thinks to herself.

Lily rubs the side of her face into Emma’s thigh to get her attention and Emma automatically starts stroking her.

“Can I ask you about your sisters?”

Emma pictures Alex and Kara smiling at her. But another image replaces it where their smiles fade  and they glare at her. Their eyes glow red. Their words are cutting and deep.

“Emma? Lily would like to get on the bed to comfort you. Is that okay?” Alistair’s voice sounds distant but Emma nods.

She feels the bed dip and a weight on her lap and chest. Emma subconsciously lifts her arms and hugs Lily. Feeling her soft fur against her arms.

Slowly Emma starts to come around.

‘Sorry.’ Emma thinks softly as she releases Lily who moves down the bed to rest her head in the blonde’s lap. Emma gently runs her fingers through Lily’s fur as she blinks to focus on the room around her.

“It’s okay Emma.” Alistair says gently. “It actually gave me some useful insight, so please don’t feel embarrassed.” He writes a few notes in a folder Emma has just noticed. The Doctor glances back up. “Don’t worry, no one but me will see this folder. Plus you have a codename so if, for some reason, this gets misplaced, no one will know it is you.”

Emma nods and continues to stroke Lily’s head.

‘Will you go and see Alex and Kara?’

“No.” Emma frowns at the ginger haired man. “It would be unethical of me to see the three of you. However, I have two very capable colleagues who are with your sisters right now.”

Emma tilts her head at him. Remembering the conversation she had with her Mom and Lena about her sisters getting help too.

“When J’onn called me last night and told me about your case, I immediately contacted two of my colleagues to come help. Knowing all three of you will need support.”

Impressed Emma nods and relaxes. Hoping Alex and Kara are doing okay with their therapists and she will be able to see them soon.

“So, what was it like growing up with an alien?”

-- -- --

Alex continues to do push ups even though the sweat is dripping onto the hard floor below her. Anger, guilt and frustration spurs her on.

“You know your form could do with a bit of work.” A male voice comments near the forcefield, making Alex pause and glare up at the voice. A muscular asian man dressed in all black, similar to the DEO uniform, is standing with his arms behind his back. Like he is standing at ease.

“Oh yea? And what are you going to do about it.” Alex bites back in annoyance.

“Try imagining squeezing a walnut between your shoulder blades as you lower into the push up.”

Alex rolls her eyes but does what the mystery man suggests.

“Better.” He comments.

Alex sits up quickly. “I’m sorry but who are you?”

“Name’s Doctor Raiden Kato. J’onn called my boss to come help you.” Raiden motions to the eldery black woman quietly talking to Kara, who is hanging onto her every word.

“I don’t need any help!” Alex snaps as she quickly stands.

“I beg to differ.”

Alex marches to the other end of the cell.

“Your release depends on your corporation.” Raiden walks around the forcefield towards the redhead.

Alex turns abruptly to face the muscular man. “J’onn wouldn’t do that! I’m fine!”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Raiden goes over to the desk and picks up a chair. Placing it by Alex he sits on it, staring expectantly at the redhead.

Alex crosses her arms and scowls right back at him.

Across the cell Kara watches her stubborn sister and shakes her head.

“Kara?”

The blonde turns back to the aging black woman, Doctor Esther Jackson. A seemingly kind lady but as Kara has already found out Doctor Jackson doesn’t take any nonsense.

“Sorry Doctor Jackson.”

“You were telling me about Emma.” The Doctor gently reminds the blonde of what she was saying.

“Yea.” Kara goes to fiddle with her glasses but she forgot she doesn’t have them on. Her hand flops uselessly to her side. “I just- I don’t know how to get past my feelings of guilt. Music has always been her whole world. When we were growing up she was constantly singing or humming.” Kara sighs heavily as her eyes mist over.

“But, as you say, you were not in control of your actions during the attack, correct?”

“I should have been stronger.” Kara glares down at her hands. The tools used to destroy her sister’s life.

Alex hears Kara’s words and looks over at her. She stares at her sisters slumped, defeated form.

“If-” Kaiden starts talking again but Alex keeps her eyes on her sister. “I get you some things you can break. Release some of that anger. Will that help you talk?”

Alex considers this. She slowly turns to stare coldly at the new thorn in her side.

“Do what you want. I don’t care.” Alex snaps. Anyone else would have flinched at her tone but not the man in front of her.

“Great.” He stands, placing the chair back behind the desk before marching over to Doctor Jackson. Alex recognises the walk of a soldier.

‘He has been through his own battles.’ She quickly averts her eyes when Kaiden glances over at her as he talks to the other Doctor.

Soon the pair leave and the sisters are left alone again.

“Alex?” Kara approaches the barrier and watches her sister pace. “Why are you refusing to talk? J’onn brought them in to help us.”

But Alex doesn’t respond. Instead she lays on the floor and starts doing crunches. Kara sighs heavily but stays near her sister. Resting her head on the divide.

Alex tries to ignore her. Tries to keep her mind empty. Tries to...

-- -- --

“Oh no! They bleed!” A three year old Alex yells while pressing her hand over the doll’s stomach. “Band Aid!”

The three year old continues to fight to save her patient. Shouting out orders to her fluffy toyed colleagues.

The little red head sighs and peers up at the wall. “Time of death: before lunch.”

A snort from her father makes Alex’s head snap up at him. Her Mom shoves her hand into his shoulder as he records their daughter.

“I not save her.” Alex says sadly.

“Aw Lexie.” Eliza kneels down, cupping her daughter’s face. “You did your very best.”

Alex nods solemnly and hugs her Mom.

“Lexie.” Her Mom pulls back to study her baby daughter and her father kneels beside her, still recording on the big camcorder. “We have some very exciting news to tell you.

“We going to Disneyland?!” Alex claps excitedly.

“No, it’s even more wonderful than that.” Her Mom beams at her.

Alex frowns and sticks her lips out as she tries to think what could be better than Disneyland. Her face lights up when she thinks about something even better.

“We getting a puppy?!” Alex screeches and jumps up and down.

“Something even better!” Her father smiles widely at her.

“Lexie.” Her Mom holds her right hand and her father holds her left. “Mommy has a baby in her tummy.”

Alex tilts her head and gapes at her Mom’s stomach.

“You’re going to be a big sister!” Her father smiles lovingly at her.

“Big sister?” Alex looks at both of them before gaping back down at her Mom’s stomach again. “Baby?” She gently presses a hand there.

“Yes Lexie! You’re going to be a big sister.”

“No feel?” Alex frowns up at her. One of her Mom’s friends has a baby in her tummy and Alex could feel it wriggling.

“Not yet. The baby is the size of a peanut at the moment.” Her father explains.

“Peanut?” Alex smiles back up at them.

“Yes, like a peanut.”

“Peanut.” Alex looks back down at her Mommy’s tummy. Feelings of love immediately fill the little redhead. “I protect you.”

-- -- --

Alex howls in fury at the memory. She jumps to her feet and starts punching the walls. Over and over. Not hearing Karas yells for her to stop.

Flashes of memories play in her mind. Of her Mom’s stomach getting bigger and bigger. The wonder Alex experienced when she felt Emma wiggle and kick for the first time. How her parents dropped her off at a friends house while they went to the hospital. Her Father waking her up early in the morning to say she was a sister to a baby girl.

The moment Alex nervously walked through the hospital, clutching her father’s hand as she was still half asleep. The door to the hospital room opening and her Mom holding a small bundle in her arms.

-- -- --

“Lexie.” Her Mom smiles at her. “Do you want to meet your baby sister?”

Alex nods enthusiastically and her Father lifts her up on the bed. More love fills Alex’s whole being as she stares down in wonder at the cooing baby. Her tiny hand gripping her Mom’s finger.

“Can I?” Alex places her hand near her Mom’s. Who smiles and places the baby’s hand over Alex’s small fingers. “Wow!” Alex’s eyes go wide at the grip of her baby sister. “When will Peanut come home?”

“Alex, Peanut won’t be her name.” Her father laughs as he records his girls.

“Why not?!” Alex asks loudly while staring in disbelief at her father.

“We can call her peanut as a nickname. But don’t you think she needs a proper name?” Her Mom asks softly.

Alex frowns as she thinks of a name. Then her baby sister opens her eyes and Alex smiles at her. “Hi. I’m Alex! I’m your big sister and I gonna protect you and play with you and be the bestest sister.”

Her parents smile at how adorable she’s being.

“We were thinking Bethany or Gracie?”

Alex pulls a face. “She don’t look like a Bethany or Gracie.”

“Okay. What do you think she looks like?”

Alex gazes deeply into her baby sister’s eyes. “An Emma.”

Her parents peer down at the baby.

“Emma.” Her Mom smiles as she tastes the word on her tongue.

“It’s perfect.” Her father smiles as well. “Hello Emma.”

-- -- --

“Alex! Alex! Please! Snap out of it!” Kara yells at her sister as she forcefully punches the wall over and over making her knuckles crack and bleed.

Knowing she isn’t getting through to Alex Kara rushes over to the other end of the cells and takes in a deep breath. “SOMEONE HELP!” She shouts loudly at the closed door.

Soon a DEO agent steps into the room.

“Please get help!” Kara pleads with them. They glance at the director and nod before rushing back into the corridor.

Kara zooms back over to her sister, hating the barrier with a passion and continues to try and snap Alex out of her torment.

Finally Eliza, J’onn and Doctor Kato sprint through the doors. Raiden motions for Eliza and J’onn to stay back as he slowly approaches the distressed woman.

“Alex.” He calmly calls out to her. “Alex.”

Shaking his head he turns to J’onn. “She can’t hear me. Lower the shield.”

“Kato-” J’onn starts but Raiden interrupts him.

“I need to be in there.”

J’onn nods and goes to the control panel.

Kara prepares herself. Ready to get to her sister. Dismay fills her when only Alex’s side of the forcefield lowers enough for Doctor Kato to approach the redhead before going back up.

“Alex.” Raiden calmly calls out as he cautiously steps towards her.

Suddenly Alex swings her fist at him. Kara holds her breath but watches in amazement as Kaiden deflects it.

“It was not your fault Alex.” Kaiden says cooly as he blocks another punch.

Alex responds by growling in frustration and kicking out. Grunting as Kaiden uses her momentum to send her to the floor.

Alex snarls as she leaps up to her feet. “It was!” She flings her fist at his face but he quickly side steps. “I swore I’d protect her!” The redhead tries to punch him again but he dodges that one too, causing Alex to scream in frustration. “I failed!” She flings her fist at Kaiden again but he catches it easily and holds onto it. “I destroyed her.”

Alex’s face distorts with emotion as she closes her eyes in grief.

“Alex.” Raiden says authoritatively, making Alex open her eyes and stare at him. “Now I’m going to say this to you straight. Stop wallowing in your self pity. Your family needs you, so get your head out of your ass and do something about it.” Raiden releases Alex’s fist and marches over to the forcefield.

A stunned Alex watches him leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Good work today.” He calls behind his shoulder.

“Well, that was a bit unconventional.” Eliza huffs slightly.

J’onn nods as he observes the two sisters. He turns to look at Eliza. “With your permission, I would like to lower the divide.”

Eliza agrees and watches as J’onn approaches the panel.

“J’onn?” Kara asks hesitantly. Not quite believing what she heard. The blonde can’t help but bounce slightly at the thought of hugging her sister.

Suddenly the cursed divide flickers and disappears. Immediately Kara rushes over to Alex and flings her arms around her.

“Ow!” Alex yelps out.

“Sorry! Too hard! Sorry!” Kara jumps back in a panic at hurting her sister.

“It’s okay, come here.” Alex motions her arms for another hug and Kara falls into them.

Both of the sisters' eyes mist over as they hold onto each other. Alex looks up and blinks rapidly to try and prevent herself from crying. While Kara buries her head in Alex’s neck and lets out a little whimper.

Eliza and J’onn observe the pair. Hoping that soon Emma will be able to see Kara and Alex and the sisters will be whole again.

(Part Seventeen)

[sincerelynamkook]

Hennessy (01)

Latina Y/N x Jungkook

Genre: Angst, Fluff 

Warnings: alcohol/drunken behavior (drink responsibly friends), mentions of smoking, sexual tension 

Word Count: 2.6k

Playlist: “Yo Perreo Sola” by Bad Bunny // “Frikitona” by Plan B // “Te Extrano” by Xtreme // “Imitadora” by Romeo Santos”

Series Masterlist

“You ready?” I roll my eyes with a pout instead of verbally answering my best friend’s question. I’m still lowkey butthurt she not only forced me to get up from my umpteenth day in bed, but also forced me to get dressed and put on makeup. I’m barely into my 30th day of getting over a breakup, I had plans to dive deep into the pits of my depression and despair for another month or two. 

“Stop being a brat and get over it. It’s not like you were in love with the guy.” Britt sasses back.

“Maybe so. But I really gave that fucker 6 months of my life thinking he would eventually be the one only for him to go out and cheat on me...let me be depressed, damn bro.” 

“Dude, c'mon. Tony said this would be the party of the year and you know how Latinos love to throw a party.” She grabs my hand and drags me up the driveway to the front door. I could hear the loud blast of Merengue music all the way from where we parked down the street. Serves us right for being 2 hours late to this damn party. But we were running on Latino time. 

“Bitch did you forget I’m Latina?” I ask her. Of course I know what Latin parties are like. 

“Really? You sure ain’t acting like the bad bitch Latina I know you are.” 

“I-...whatever.” I mumble, not having a retort. 

She giggles and opens the front door, coming fact to face with Jimin who has the brightest smile on his face. “Finally bitches! I’ve been waiting for y’all for over an hour.” 

Music, laughter, singing, mixed with conversations from every direction bombard my ears. Jimin drags Britt and me to the back of the house, bee-lining straight to the kitchen counter that's covered in alcoholic beverages. He goes around to stand next to Tony who’s behind the counter, dressed in an all black fit, gold chain around his neck, nose pierced with a stud and a septum, and small black rectangular framed glasses perched on his nose. 

“What, you on your Bad Bunny phase or something?” I ask him as Jimin hands me a cranberry vodka, knowing it’s my favorite drink. 

With a smile, he sticks his tongue out and places his pinky fingers near his glasses doing the iconic Bad Bunny pose, “You already know babyyyy,” he says garnering a laugh from me. “I made sure to stock up on cranberry and vodka for you babe. Britt warned me so we on that ‘Bring Y/N back to life’ gang shit tonight.”

“Oh god,” I grimace. When Britt and Tony get together on their “missions” there is no hope for us. “Well you got food around here? I ain’t getting shitfaced on an empty stomach.”

“This ain’t the first time at the rodeo, Y/N.” Hoseok says as he appears behind Tony with a platter of appetizers on a plate for me. “We take care of our favorite girls around here, Y/N, c'mon now, especially when you're my girlfriend’s best friend” he winks at Britt and she giggles. Gross. 

“My hero.” I respond sarcastically, inspecting the chips and guac. With a raise of a brow I ask, “This better be some legit guac boys, not that store bought kind y’all got that one time at Costco.”

“Omg get over it! I didn’t realize it was expired!” Jin yells from behind me. He gives Britt a kiss on the cheek before pinching my arm. I stick my tongue out before giving him a genuine smile. “I wasn’t even the one who bought it. It was Jimin!” 

Jimin giggles, “Well that’s what y’all get for sending me grocery shopping when I’m hungover.”

“I was sick for days! I almost died!” I yell back. Not gona lie, this guac is hella good. “Dude, who made this guac. It’s legit, I’ll give you that.”

“I asked my sister to make some for us. She also made some tamales for you and Britt, you know she loves y'all more than me.” Tony says as he pours me another drink. Tears start to well in my eyes, food being the only thing that weakens my tough exterior. 

“Tony...tell your sister to divorce Jackson and marry me. I’ll treat her better!” I exclaim making the group laugh. 

“Y’all lets move this party to the den.” Hoseok says, grabbing Britt’s hand and leading us to the next room, away from the bigger crowd. 

We each take our usual seats. Being a tight knit group since our college days, we have our traditions, one being movie night at Tony’s every weekend, thus leading us to have our own unofficial assigned seats. 

The music can still be heard from the den, albeit not as loud as it was in the main rooms. 

“So we getting Y/N shitfaced tonight right?” Jimin asks with a smirk in my direction. 

“Hell yeah. I can’t believe you skipped out on movie nights this whole month.” Jin responds with a shake of his head. “I thought we were family.”

I roll my eyes at his dramatics. “Whatever. Y’all know how I get when I’m in my moods.”

Hoseok stands and comes around the couch to hug me from behind. “I know you’re not a hugger but accept this quick hug and let go of your sadness friend.”

 I giggle and hold back my witty remark, knowing his heart is in the right place. “Thanks Hobi. Give me a few more drinks and I’ll be begging for your hugs.”

He jumps at that and runs to the kitchen yelling, “You don’t have to tell me twice!!” Brittany gets up and follows him, muttering something about going to make sure he doesn’t get dragged into dancing. 

“But in all seriousness, Y/N, are you okay?” Jin asks next to me. 

“Not gona lie, I’m hurt because y’all know how I feel about cheating. But it is what it is right?” I exhale and gulp down my third cup of cranberry vodka. 

“You’ll be okay babe, c'mon lets go get more drinks.” Jimin takes my hands and drags me out the den, just as Yoongi and Joonie were walking into the den. 

“Hey fuckers. I brought the Henny!” Yoongi announces with a smirk. At the sound of Henny I turn around and walk back into the den, grabbing the Hennessy bottle from Yoongi’s grasp and opening it to pour myself some shots. 

“Oh so that’s what we doing huh?” He smirks and I just wink at him raising my shot glass at him. 

“The night is young my friend.” I say as I raise up my second shot in a toast. Joon takes the bottle from me and pours me another one, clinking his own glass with mine. 

“Let’s get this bread!” he says to which I grimace and retort back, “Grandpa, don’t ever say that again.” He chuckles with a roll of his eyes and downs his shot. 

The heat from the alcohol going down my throat and coursing throughout my body has me removing my jacket. Jin whistles saying “aight mami, you sure you're getting over a break up?”

Giggling, I look over at him to see him checking me out. I’m donned in black ripped skinny jeans, black platform Jadon docs, and a green satin tank top; meaning my tattoo covered arm is out on display. “Boy please, be quiet before you get me in trouble with Tree. Where is she anyway?”

“She had to work tonight. She’s gonna come after her shift which should be soon.” He says checking the time on his phone. 

Another shot is placed in my hand by Jimin, “bottoms up bitch!”

I down my shot just as I hear the sounds of “Yo Perreo Sola” by Bad Bunny start to play. “Oh shit! This my song!!!” I yell, clearly feeling the effect of the alcohol contents fueling my body. I grab Jimin’s hand and drag him over to the crowd dancing in the large living room. 

Jimin positions himself behind me, holding my waist as we start to dance to the song. We grind up on each other, perreando like the song describes, screaming the chorus together with the crowd. I turn around to face him and push him backwards, ready to perrear sola. The other girls around me start to hype me up and start to grind against me. We put on quite the show but the crowd goes even wilder when the song switches to “Frikitona” by Plan B. Jin dances up next to me with Tree on his arm and hands me two more shots, “double fist time babyyy” he yells over the crowd. I take the shots all the while I’m dancing, I don’t even notice when the two empty glasses are replaced with new full ones by Jimin, knowing it's him with the pink hair on his head, but I down those two. I vaguely notice Hoseok and Brittany dancing not too far from me, practically making love on the dance floor. Wouldn’t surprise me if they disappeared upstairs real soon. The reggaetón bops keep going and Jimin and I keep dancing amidst the crowd. Whoever picked this mix deserves a reward because it got all the throwbacks. I smile big when I hear Don Omar’s “Dile.”

I’m sweating, pushing my hair back from my face every few seconds, regretting not bringing a scrunchie with me to put it in a bun. The reggaetón mix fades off into a bachata mix with “Te Extrano” by Xtreme being the first song to play. Not wanting to go back into my feels, I decide to take this time to grab water and sober a bit. Now that I’ve stopped dancing I realize just how drunk I really am. I lean against the counter and grab a cool water bottle from the cooler, snickering when I see Yoongi making out with some girl across the kitchen. 

The bachata mix turns sensual, as “Sobredosis” by Romeo Santos starts to play. I sway softly in my spot against the counter, singing along to the song as I try hard to sober up. 

I hear Tony yell a “Look who finally made it” and the crowd starts to shout their greetings at whoever just walked in. I turn around to see what the commotion is all about and see Jungkook walking in holding two bottles of Hennessy, one in each hand.

“What the fuck” I whisper softly, but not soft enough when I hear Taehyung reply, “yeah, he’s back.”

“Whoa when did you get here TaeTae? And when you say ‘he’s back’ you mean cause of summer break right?” I ask without turning back around to look at him, my attention at one man and one man only. 

“I got here a while ago with Janet, we were outside smoking though.” Ahh that makes sense. “And no, he’s back for good. He graduated last week.” He says with a smirk in my direction. 

My eyes go wide, muttering a soft, “fuck.” I turn around to face the kitchen, hands in my hair in exasperation. How did he graduate already? He’s like three years younger than me! I close my eyes and focus on doing the math only to realize that he in fact was graduating college this year. Shit. 

Tae pats my back, “what’s got your panties in a twist love? It’s not like you fucked the guy on his 21st birthday and never spoke to him again even though he’s one of your best friend’s, Yoongi’s to be exact, younger brother.”

I open my eyes and face Tae. He yells an exaggerated ‘OW!” when I twist his nipple. 

“Kim Taehyung what the fuck?! I told you never to mention that again.” I exhale and make the decision to continue my “getting shitfaced” mission. Pouring a line of shots, I start to take them one after the other until Tae decides to take the last 3 himself earning a “fuck you” from me. 

I lean against the counter, facing the living room only to see Jungkook walking towards me. I roll my eyes at him when I see his smirk directed at me. He walks up next to me and opens the bottle of Hennessy, not saying a word. Taehyung chuckles and leaves with a “have fun lovebirds.” Jungkook pours two shots and hands me one. But he doesn’t just give it to me like any decent person would, no way, he has the audacity to bring the shot glass to my lips , softly nudging my lips open with it to make me drink. Not one to back down from a challenge, I hold his hand holding the shot glass against me and throw my head back to down it. His big brown eyes, those that were so full of innocence, are now full of lust and focused on my lips. I don’t miss the way they subtly move down to look at my neck when I swallow the alcohol, or the way his hand still near my lips slightly twitches when my tongue flicks out to lick my bottom lip, making sure I take every drop of alcohol he gave me. 

He leans closer to me, his scent which now surrounds me making me even drunker. My hands go up to his chest instinctively, as if I had the willpower to actually shove him away. I could feel his heart beating faster against my hands, his pecks feeling tight...woah when did that happen? 

I feel, rather than see, his face lean closer to my ear where he softly whispers, “wana show me what else you can swallow?” His deep melodic voice has me closing my eyes and gulping in a millisecond, feeling a rush of wetness pool at my core.  

I open my eyes, reminding myself who I’m talking to and laugh the nerves away. I shove him back, needing some room to breathe and he chuckles at my antics. 

The playlist starts to play “Imitadora” by Romeo Santos and I can feel a change in the atmosphere. Jungkook takes a step closer to me, arm going around me to softly push me against him. He leans close to my ear again to whisper “dance with me” but I’m too high off his scent and to the beat of his heart that’s vibrating against where my hands rest on his chest to answer. He takes it as a yes and walks us backwards to the center of the makeshift dance floor. 

I bring myself back to the present and raise an eyebrow at him, “You sure you can keep up Korean boy?” I feel his chest softly vibrate from his chuckle.

“I have a few tricks up my sleeve preciosa” he answers with a smirk as he twirls me around. I swoon at his honey like voice calling me “preciosa,” with the subtle hint of his accent. But I feel my pussy clench when he dances bachata like a Latin born man. 

My heart feels like it’s about to burst out of my chest when he starts singing the chorus of the song in perfect Spanish close to my ear. Hitting every note like if he was Romeo Santos. 

He must've heard my swift intake of breath by the way he smiles. A smile I feel on my neck as he leans even closer to me to drop a kiss at my nape, sealing it with a lick. 

The song comes to an end, quickly transitioning to a more up tempo bachata song. Jungkook drops another kiss on my neck and whispers “wana see what other tricks I got?”

[onechicagorpf]

Equal Justice Under Law

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader (Prosecutor)

Requested? Yes -  Are you still accepting requests? If you are can you do one where the reader is a prosecutor and working a case alongside intelligence. She gets in trouble and jay is the one to save her?

Warnings: Mentions of sexual abuse and murder. Swearing, the usual cuss words.

A/N: Okay so this is HELLA long. I really meant for all my requests to be blurbs (i.e. short fics) so please note that future requests will probably be much shorter than this! I just got carried away on this one! 😅

Also I realise the anon asked for the reader to be working alongside Intelligence, but in mine she’s kinda taking over after the police case is done, which is what happens in the episodes of Chicago Justice most of the time so that’s what I had it my head - hope y’all still like it! I also tried to switch it up this time and write in past tense, which I realise is sooo not my thing because I kept instinctively writing stuff in present tense and then having to go back and change it lol Let me know if you have a preference one way or another because I’m very curious as to how people feel about this! 

Up next? 3 more  Jay x Reader requests to fill!

PS: Send me asks/messages/leave a note if you liked this and want to see more!

You sighed, dropping your face in your hands. Some days, you wished you hadn’t taken up the job as the Cook County Assistant State's Attorney. The late nights and high stress situations sucked, but more than that your job had a way of bringing to light the worst things about humanity.

Looking down at your desk, you ran your fingers across the scattered pictures. Amelia Langstrom, age 16. Pamela Park, age 18. Lacey McDonald, age 19. Julia Sanderson, age 15. Maggie Thane, age 16. Every photo of the girls, smiling at the camera, came with another one. This other photo wasn’t as well-lit, as happy, as pretty. It was an emotionless, clinical photo taken of their naked bodies, covered with injuries and bruises and cuts, surrounded by leaves or trash depending on where they were dumped.

It was an awful, awful thing. 5 young girls, all missing for over a week before their bodies were found. All with signs of sexual assault, yet no DNA left behind to trace back to the killer. All of this, by itself, would be enough to turn your stomach over. Which it did, but above that, watching your boyfriend come home every night with his head down, shoulders sagging, looking completely distressed as he and his team were no closer to finding the perpetrator of these crimes…it was terrible.

“You guys will get him. I know you will, Jay.” You said, brushing his dark brown hair out of his eyes as the two of you laid in bed together. Your boyfriend’s green eyes, usually bright and full of life, were dark and distant in a way you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“How many more girls does he have to kill before we find him?” Jay whispered, not even looking at you, as his frown - one that seemed to have made itself at home in his forehead over the last two weeks - deepened.

It was a week later when Anna Valdez, your second chair, knocked on your door. Her face was dark, and her lips were tight.

“Another girl?” You asked, your voice cracking.

Anna shook her head. “Intelligence got the guy.” She replied, still looking troubled.

You frowned, tilting your head at her. She paused, crossing her arms across her chest, trying to shrink herself. Like as if she didn’t want to say the next words. You stood up, now beginning to fear what was coming.

“What is it?”

Anna swallowed. “They’re saying he confessed.”

***

“Jay - ”

“You don’t believe me?! Seriously?!” Jay’s eyes were wide with outrage on the other side of your desk.

“It’s not about whether I believe you! It’s about - ” You lowered your voice, remembering that there were many, many people who were working right outside your office. “ - it’s about the fact that Voight is saying this guy confessed. Hank Voight. He’s not exactly a shrinking violet. And all this on top of the fact that - ”

Jay opened his mouth to cut in, but you silenced him with a raised hand and bulldozed onward.

“ - On top of the fact that there just so happened to be no one else in the room with Voight when Dylan Rhodes confessed? Hmm? And it happened in a - in a cage that’s in basement of your district? No cameras, no audio, no video?” You glared at Jay, barely hiding the seething rage that was boiling under your skin. You leaned across the desk, shoulders tight, voice now raised without a care about what anyone outside was going to hear. “Not to mention he’s got cuts and bruises all over his face from ‘resisting arrest’ even though he’s a 20 year old who’s maybe 120 pounds soaking wet and there were seven of you cops, all armed with guns when you went to arrest him!” You yelled, flinging several of Dylan Rhodes’ mugshots across the table, some of them flying all the way over to hit Jay’s body and land at his feet.

There was nothing in the air but the soft whirring of the ceiling fan, and the squeaking of wheels as you dropped back into your chair, exhausted.

Jay called your name, his voice different now - softer and sweeter. You tried not to look at him, tried to let him know just how angry you were…but you weren’t angry at him. Not really. You were angry at the man he worked for. When your eyes connected back with Jay’s, you could see that he knew that. He placed his palms on your desk and leaned towards you.

“You know that I have issues with Hank sometimes, with the way he does things. You know that. But Y/N, you gotta believe me on this one. I looked in that kid’s eyes. I know he did this.” Jay whispered, and you ducked your head, letting your vision graze over the one remaining photo of Dylan Rhodes on your desk.

You just sighed. Looking back up at him, you shook your head.

“It’s not about him, Jay. I know he did it too, I can feel it. But if I’m putting him away, it needs to happen the right way.” You offered, your voice almost didactic.

Jay’s jaw clenched. “Needs to happen the right way, or not at all?” He straightened, pulling away from you. The look he was giving you was one that you could only describe as fervent disapproval. Like he hated what he was seeing in you.

You decided you were done with the argument. Leveling Jay with a cold, emotionless stare, you spoke.

“Yeah. Because there’s some of us who still believe in the law. Who choose to serve and protect in the right way.”

The words spilled out of your mouth so matter-of-factly that they became so harsh. Jay was speechless, and in the beat of silence that followed, you regretted your words.

Your door opened and you jumped, too absorbed in your tête-à-tête with Jay to even give notice to the outside world. Anna looked over you and Jay - who was staring at his feet, jaw tight - with concern in her eyes.

“What is it?” You asked Anna for the second time in a day, just as terrified as the first time.

“Defense counsel just filed a motion to suppress the confession.”

***

“Mr Howard, if you’re ready we can begin - ”

“Sorry to interrupt, your honour, but it won’t be necessary.” You announced, standing up in the courtroom. Everyone’s eyes were on you, even the court stenographer’s.

The judge raised his eyebrows.

“The People will not object to Mr Howard’s motion to suppress the defendant’s confession.” You said, and a flurry of excitement broke out in the gallery - reporters shouting questions, members of the public yelling, camera flashes going off.

“So,” Anna began, facing you as you stopped to grab a cup of water from a dispenser in the hallway. It’d taken about five whole minutes of gavel banging by the judge to settle everyone down, before she dismissed the session. “Your boyfriend and some of his coworkers are at the end of the hallway, and they keep shooting us looks but no one’s coming.”

You tipped the paper cup into your water, swallowing the ice cold water, flinching a little at the tingly sensation it left in your mouth.

“Do you want to go the other way, or do you want to go talk to them? To him?” Anna asked, softly. If anyone else had been saying it, you would’ve snapped at them to mind their own business. But it’s Anna - Anna, who from day one has been by your side, who’s practically made it her mission to be the person you count on.

You shot Anna a gentle smile, squeezing her shoulder. “I’m good. I’ll take the south exit. Meet you back at the office after lunch?” Anna nodded, trying but failing to hide the concern in her eyes.

Side-stepping her, you walked down the hallway, away from where Jay and the rest of Intelligence must be gathered. A part of you hoped, strangely, that he’d come after you, even though you knew that there was no way he wouldn’t be pissed at you. You’d been with him long enough to know how he operated. How he felt everything so intensely, how he was wired through the heart. Jay lived and died by his instincts and his emotions, and there was something to be said about the simplicity of it. The man was a soldier, and maybe in war you didn’t have the time to think about procedure and precedent, about the sharp edges of red tape and the rules and regulations in a bureaucracy. The cosmetic battles didn’t matter to him – he didn’t care what something seemed like, he cared what it was.

But you weren’t Jay. You loved him, but you were not him. You weren’t a soldier - you were a lawyer, and your battle was in the courtroom, not Afghanistan. And in the courtroom, almost just as much as what something was mattered, what it looked like mattered too.

Dylan Rhodes had to be brought to justice, yes. But it had to be done the right way, not by way of coerced or falsified confessions. Equal justice under law was what you swore to uphold, and damn Voight if he thought you couldn’t put Dylan away while doing your job the right way. And damn Jay too, then.

***

“So, how’s the case coming along?” Will Halstead asked, pouring maple syrup over his waffles.

You leaned against the red leather seats in the diner, in an example of truly terrible posture. Shrugging, you answered him: “You know I can’t really talk about that.”

Will scoffed, picking up a fork and knife. “I think you’re allowed to tell me how you’re doing.”

You raised at eyebrow at the doctor, a smile starting to creep onto your face. “But those aren’t the exact words you used, and you actually asked me something completely different - ”

Will threw his hands in the air:‌ “Okay, we get it, you’re a lawyer and I shouldn’t argue with you.” He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, and you laughed, leaning forward to swat at his arm.

“Really, though.” Will said eventually, and you just nodded. “I’m feeling good. I think I’ve got motive, and I think I can get him to snap if I put him on the stand.”

Will smiled wide. “Attagirl.”

As you sipped your coffee, you kept going over your question in your head, trying to find the best way to phrase it. But just like his brother, Will could practically read your mind.

“Jay’s…you know how he is.” Will said, in a gentle tone.

“Stubborn, adamant, refuses to think he’s wrong about anything, ever?” You shot back in a grouchy tone, and Will raised his eyebrows. “Wow, you just said the same thing three ways - you must be pretty pissed!” He commented dryly, and you glared at him. Chuckling, Will waved you off before leaning across the diner table. “Y/N, he knows he shouldn’t have pushed you the way he did. He knows that. And he’s sorry.”

“He can’t come say that to me? Send me a message, come by my office, come home? He’s still gotta crash on your couch?” You shook your head, struggling to contain the hurt in your voice.

Will shot you a sympathetic look. “You know us Halstead boys; it takes a little while before the mea culpa can come out of our mouths.”

You stirred the spoon in your coffee, watching the little bits of foam go round and round and round, before dragging your spoon across in the opposite direction. The foam still swirled around a few times before stopping. Too slow.

“My bed’s been empty for a week, Will. I miss him.”

Will didn’t say anything; the good doctor just slid over a piece of tissue, and that was when you realised you’d started crying.

***

“You’ve got this.” Anna whispered, as the defense attorney took his seat. The judge turned to you and called for you to make your closing argument.

This was usually your favourite part - getting to talk directly to the jury, showing them the facts of your case, walking them through every step of the process with all the detail in the world so that they could get to the conclusion that you knew to be true.

But today was different. You shoved your hands in your pockets to hide that they were shaking. And when you looked over your shoulder at the gallery, you couldn’t see Jay.

He’d never missed any of your closing arguments. Ever.

Until today.

“Ms Y/L/N? Can we begin?” The judge tossed a concerned look your way.

Your eyes landed on Dylan Rhodes, who was smirking at you like he’d won.

Smiling back, you calmly turned to the judge. “Let’s begin.”

Starting from Dylan’s teenage years, where he racked up countless misconduct records in high school for all sorts of problems, you traced the development of this man, this awful human being. You painted a portrait of him as needy, sad, and lonely, and connected that to his need to hurt and attack girls who were otherwise unattainable for him. As you spoke, you could see the jury process your words and go where you were taking them.

Dylan had, by this point, dropped the cocky smirk. Instead, his face was red, his jaw was clenched, and veins were popping in his neck. You knew you had him - you knew it was over.

“Members of the jury - I have just one final request to ask of you. Today, you have the opportunity to see that justice is served to a man who more than deserves it. A man - a boy, who decided that raping and killing girls was the only way he could live with himself, because that was the only way he could have these girls.” You paused, turning to look at Dylan, who was shaking with rage.

“A boy who decided to hurt girls to cover up the fact that he is so weak, and so pathetic.” You punctuated the tense air in the courtroom with words so sharp they felt like the final nail in Dylan Rhodes’ coffin.

There was a moment of bliss, you knew you’d done your job, you knew you’d brought the jury over, you knew you’d succeeded - but just as quickly as things came together, it all came crashing down.

It happened so quickly - Dylan roared, lunging over the table towards you. Everyone started screaming, and you froze in shock and in fear.

The bailiff intercepted Dylan on his way over to you and tackled him to the ground. It all seemed settled for a second, but they kept struggling on the ground, and all you saw was Dylan’s hands reaching around the bailiff’s and - and his fingers wrapping around - oh god - 

“Gun!” Anna yelled, and the release of that one syllable was followed immediately by a gunshot. And then another.

***

“You gonna talk to Y/N? She’s closing the Rhodes case today, you know?” Hailey Upton asked, lifting her feet up to place them on the dashboard of the GMC Sierra.

Jay shrugged, fiddling with the radio in his hand.

“This is the part where you use your words.” Hailey remarked in a slightly sarcastic tone, smiling and Jay just shot her a look. Reaching over, he shoved her feet off the dash petulantly, and Hailey laughed.

Moments later, she turned back, cheek pressing against the headrest of her seat. “Jay.” She said, her tone gentle but still a little pushy. It was what he needed then, and she knew it. The last few days had been tough on him - he hadn’t talked to her about it, other than updating her that he was staying over at Will’s, but his entire demeanour was off - he’d been down and depressed.

Jay shrugged again, frowning. “I don’t know what to say. I screwed up, and I know it and she knows it and - I don’t know. I’m starting to think…” Jay ducked his head, eyes scanning his fingers as they traced the outlines of his radio. “…starting to think maybe she can do better than me, you know?” When he finished, his voice was much lower, much softer than it was when he began.

“Oh, she can definitely do better than you.” Hailey grinned, her dimples showing and Jay just reached across, punching her shoulder. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Hailey chuckles, before turning to face her partner again.

“Seriously though, I’ve seen the way she looks at you - that girl is one hundred percent in love with you.”

Jay’s heart felt full hearing that, and he knew it to be true, too.

“So get your shit together, stop sleeping on your brother’s couch, go back to her and apologise for being an idiot.” Hailey advised. Before Jay could say anything, his radio went off.

“10-1, 10-1, shots fired at the Third Municipal District, hall 5! Dispatch, get Intelligence on the scene now!”

“Isn’t that where - ” Hailey started to ask, frowning. She didn’t have to finish her question, because she got her answer when Jay, who suddenly went as pale as a ghost, turned on the lights and sirens and floored it.

***

“Dylan…just - think about this, okay?”

Your hands were out in front of you, shaking.

Dylan Rhodes was about 10 feet from you, with a gun in his hand. The gallery had cleared out and the people on the jury had managed to escape to their deliberation room, separated from the courtroom with a thick wooden door. The only people who were left with you and Dylan were the judge, Anna and Mr Howard.

Your eyes flickered down to where the bailiff laid in a pool of his own blood. Dylan had fired two shots straight through the bailiff’s chest. You didn’t need to be trained in medicine like your boyfriend’s brother to know that the bailiff was dead.

You’d said hi to him once, in an elevator. He’d smiled back, and asked you how your day was.

You can’t remember what you told him.

“You’re scared now, aren’t you?” Dylan asked, and you snapped back to him. He had a deranged smile on his face.

“Dylan, please, it doesn’t have to be like this - ” You started speaking, but the judge - Judge Kinnaman - cut you off.

“Son, I swear if you don’t drop that gun now, you will never see the light of day. I will personally ensure that.” Judge Kinnaman’s voice resounded in the empty courtroom with authority. Dylan turned to him, gun following his line of sight.

“Fuck you.” Dylan punctuated his words with a squeeze of the trigger. Anna screamed, and you heard a loud thump. When you turned over your shoulder, you couldn’t see Judge Kinnaman at his seat behind the counter anymore - all you saw was blood splatter on his chair and the wood behind him.

The numbness you’d felt until this point suddenly gave way to waves upon waves of fear. It felt like a chill going down your spine - your body was cold, your mind was racing, and you were absolutely terrified.

“Dylan - Dylan, listen to me.” Jon Howard, the defense attorney, spoke softly from the defense table. “Just - just put the gun down, okay?”

Dylan’s eyes practically went red with rage. “You - you fucking…you’re useless, you’re pathetic, you know that?” Dylan swings back around, yelling at you and Anna. “He asked me to make a deal! A deal! What kind of a shitty lawyer gives up before he even tries to win, huh?!” He yelled at Jon, spit flying out of his mouth. Jon flinched, leaning back as Dylan moved closer to him.

Suddenly, a voice on loudspeaker boomed from outside the closed doors of the courtroom.

“Dylan Rhodes! This is Jay Halstead of the Chicago Police Department. We have the courtroom surrounded!”

Your knees almost buckled as you heard Jay’s voice. Relief flooded your veins, but you were still scared as you watched Dylan suddenly turn around, eyes wide.

“We do not want you or anyone in there to get hurt, okay? Just let the people in there come out, and I swear I will help you.” Jay finished, and Dylan just grabbed his head in his hands.

“No, no, no, no!” Dylan whispered to himself, tears springing out of his eyes. You turned to Anna, both of you equally terrified. Suddenly, Dylan raised his head, almost like a lion that had suddenly spotted a gazelle over the lines of grass.

Dylan surged towards you. Screaming, you flattened yourself against the witness stand, but it was to no avail - Dylan’s left hand grabbed your throat, and he pulled you to him, turning you so that you were in front of him, his left forearm like a bar going across your neck. You felt the cool metal of the gun against your temple, and you gasped.

“I have a hostage! I’m coming out, and I want everyone to stand back!” Dylan barked, before walking you to the door. You were shaking against him, tears streaming down your face at this point. The pressure of the gun against your head seemed to be drilling into you. As you reached the door, and Dylan instructed you to open it, all you could think about was that at least you’d get to see Jay before you died today.

The door opened with a loud creak, and you were stunned to see so many fully uniformed police officers with assault rifles standing right outside. Per Dylan’s instructions, they were all standing back, but still it was absolutely terrifying seeing all those guns pointed at you.

Your eyes immediately found Jay, who had his head tilted, looking down the sight on his rifle but the moment Dylan had brought you out, he picked his head up. His mouth was open slightly, his eyes were wide and wet, and he looked to be completely distraught.

Seeing him finally after days apart…it made every argument you’d ever had feel so inconsequential. You were so full of love for him and the only thing you wanted to do was run, run to him and wrap your arms around him. Unable to do any of that, you just mouthed “I love you” as you tried to hold back sobs.

“I want a car, and - and I want a - a jet fueled at O’Hare!” Dylan shouted.

Jay just shook his head. “You need to let her go first, alright?”

Dylan tightened his hold on you. “I’m not a fucking idiot!”

“We know that, okay?” Hailey spoke up, from a few feet to the right of Jay. “We don’t think you’re an idiot. We just want to make sure you don’t do anything you don’t want to do.” She said, putting her rifle down. Raising her hands, she took a couple of steps towards Dylan, who at this point had completely turned to face her.

“No - no, I don’t want you to move! Just - just stay where you are!” Dylan snapped, his voice raging. Your heart was beating so loudly that you could almost hear it in your ears. Closing your eyes, you just prayed silently.

“I know you don’t want to hurt her. So let’s just make sure - ” Hailey spoke gently, but Dylan cut her off, laughing sharply.

“You stupid bitch! You’re all stupid bitches! Damn right I want to hurt her! This bitch - ” Dylan shouted, pulling in his forearm, the immense pressure against your neck strangling you, “ - called me pathetic! I’m gonna show her how fucking pathetic she is when I get her somewhere alone and I - ”

A loud bang goes off, and you jumped. Your eyes flew open just in time to feel Dylan sag against you, and you instinctively leaned out of the way so that he fell to the ground. 

Arms wrapped around you, and your first reaction was to flinch, to scream, to turn with eyes wide, trying to claw away from whoever it is. But then you heard his voice.

“Baby! Baby - it’s me, it’s Jay!” Your boyfriend’s eyes were wide and teary. His eyebrows were furrowed deeply, and he looked like he was in pain.

Everything clicked in your head.

“Jay,” You moaned, shaking fingers clutching his vest as you engulfed yourself in him. Jay’s arms wrapped around you tightly and you soaked in his scent, his warmth, his safety. Sobbing into his neck, you refused to let go, still not really believing this to be real. Jay didn’t say anything for a while and you weren’t sure why. But then you heard him crying into your hair, and you pulled back to see him. His eyes were wet, pooling with tears, and you immediately brought your hands up to hold his face. Jay leaned down as you got on your tip toes and you kissed, wet and soft and scared. Jay’s hands cradled your face, and when the two of you eventually split to breathe, you just looked up at him, speechless, shaking your head.

“I’m so sorry,” Jay whimpered.

“It’s okay. We’re okay. Just - just come home, please,” You begged, running your thumb over his jaw.

“Of course. Of course. I’m never leaving you like that again, okay? No matter what. Y/N, I love you so much. When he came out with you - I - I almost died right where I stood.” Jay told you as his face contorted into something painful. You pressed your lips to his again, quick and chaste. Pulling back, you smiled up at him.

“I love you too, Jay.”

The rest of the day was a mess - the cops moved Dylan’s body, as well as the bailiff’s and Judge Kinnaman’s, while paramedics cleared you medically. You flung yourself at Anna when they brought her out, swearing to her that you were okay and asking repeatedly if she was fine. The two of you held on to each other, crying, as Jay kept rubbing your back. In fact, he never left your side, not even for a second. After you were done giving your statement, Jay took you home, and the two of you got undressed and sat in a warm bath together for a while. You kept thinking at times that you were fine, but then you’d remember the feeling of the gun against your head, or the way the bailiff slumped over, and you started crying again. Jay brought his arms around you, pulling you to his chest and peppering your face with kisses as he soothed you.

At night, you curled into each other. The two of you drifted asleep, in the safety and warmth of your embrace.

*** Please leave a comment/like/reblog!

[faangirl101]

Burning Heart:  Pt 1

Burning heart masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x reader, Zuko x y/n

Tags: Enemies to lovers, slow burn

Summary: Raised mostly by yourself, you made a living for your youth years as a maid in one of the richest families in Ba sing se, Beifongs. There Toph, a blind young rich girl, taught you earth bending and also became your new family. Not that you would admit that to her. Together you escape Ba sing se on the back of a flying bison with the Avatar, in a mission to take back the world from the fire nation. But on the journey you didn't plan to team up with the Fire prince himself, and you definitely did not plan to get butterflies around him. But you couldn't possibly catch feelings for a fire bender right? They ruined your life and took everything of value from you. But you couldn't lie to your burning heart. 

Warnings: swearing

The Western Air temple

The sun's streaks felt like fire licking our exposed arms. The heat evaporating  from the cracked surface under our feet  was almost as hot as the burning shame in returning empty handed on foot from the eclipse battle. “This is humiliating”, Katara mumbled with her head low. Her voice sparked a familiar annoyance within but I kept my mouth shut. Sokka looked up at her from under the wolf helmet “You mean getting thoroughly spanked by the Fire Nation or having to walk all the way to the Western Air Temple?”. Katara looked him up and down before shame forced her head down again “Both”.  Aang let his hand slide through Appas fur, as if to reassure him that it was not his fault. His forever love for Appa didn't fail to turn my frown. Aang mirrored my weak smile “Sorry guys, but appa gets tired carrying all these people”. “Or maybe it's just Toph who’s heavy”, Not even one of my snarky playful remarks seemed to get the group in a good mood. But I did get a half smirk for Toph that was good enough. “I wonder how the rest of the troops are”, Teo pushed his wheelchair with sweaty hands as he looked up to Haru. I had never met Teo before the battle, but Aang had mentioned him before. He was hella smart and outshined an entire army. But it was clearly not enough to beat the fire nation. I let my eyes wander to Haru instead. I remember the stories of him and his father in prison. A deep weighting feeling decided to settle in my stomach. My father would have never risked everything for me like Haru did for his dad. I guess I was never a family person. I pushed the hurtful thoughts away the best I could by focusing on Haru. “They’re probably on their way to a prison. Seems like my dad just got out and now he’s going back in”. The group fell quiet, and I wanted to feel empathy for Haru. I wanted to understand how much it would hurt to lose a parent after just getting one. I wanted to hug him. Instead i just put a supportive hand on his back “He got out once, we will figure it out”. I didn't know if my words made a difference but I dropped my hand anyways. “I miss Pipsqueak”, The duke, a small boy muttered. Sokka ignored his tiny friend's words “I miss not having blisters on my feet”. I leaned down to Toph's level “Question, when you get blisters, does it feel like if i got something in my eye?”. Toph grunted in response which I decided to take as a yes. Suddenly Toph made a halt stop which almost made the rest of the group fall over. She stamped down, similar to a rabbit, before her face cracked up in a smile. “Hey, We’re here! I can feel it!”, she raised both her hands forward showing us….. nothing. Ahead of us was the same ground  that we had walked on for hours on end. The only difference was a precipies splitting the ground open like a wound. “uhhhh….I think your feet need their eyes checked”, Katara stopped beside Toph with a wrinkled nose. “No! She’s right. We are here!”, Aang’s voice didn't sound in defeat as before. Sokka took one look behind his shoulder as if he missed the “giant temple” Aang had described before shrugging his shoulders. “Wooow”, Toph placed her hands next to her feet, truly taking in her surroundings “It's fantastic!”.

 The western Air temple was breathtaking. How we got down was a mystery, but well down. I had no words. It was everything Aang had described. Stone walls reached over our heads,  clinging for its life on the cliffs surrounding us. Ivy painted the entire place green. With tired feet and a heavy head I slumped down on the bench around the fountain. The comforting noise of water pooling swallowed my pouding head in ease. “It's so different from the Northern Air Temple. I wonder if there are any secret rooms”, Teos eyes were glistening like a childs. Haru had clearly stopped worrying about his dad as he took a leap forward with a smile “Let’s go check it out!”. Teo and The Duke are quick on his feet as they sprint off to explore. Aang is about to catch up with them, excitement clear in his flaring arms, before he’s cut off my Kataras grip. “You guys go. I think we need to talk about some things”, she urges the boys to continue their exploring without Aang and they don't need much convincing. “I'll race you, Duke”, Teo is already taking off. The Duke whines as the kid he is “i told you, It's The Duke!”. The three disappear behind the temple but their voice echoes for another couple of seconds. Aang's looks after the boys with desperation in his grey eyes “Why can’t I go?”. I get up on shaky legs and make my way over to them. “We need to decide what we’re gonna do now, and since you’re the Avatar, maybe you should be a part of this”, Katara sits down on a fallen stone block. “Fair enough. So, what’s the new plan?”Anyone could easily detect the evidence of annoyance in Aang's voice as he slumps down on another stone block. But Katara was right, no matter how much I hated to admit it. Sokka placed a hand under his chin, mimicking an old philosopher  “Well, if you ask me, the new plan is the old plan! You just need to master all four elements and confront the Fire Lord before the comet comes.” They way Sokka phrased it was as if it was not that hard. As if it was just a cup of tea, which clearly struck a nerve with Aang.“Oh , yeah. That’s great. No problem. I'll just do that”, Aang threw his words in irony. He started playing with a rock beside him with furrowed eyebrows. He had never looked more like a child. “Aang, no one said it’s going to be easy”, Katara’s voice clinged in empathy. It irritates me how she always complains about being the mom of the group as if she didn't take on that role by herself. But I know a mother's empathy is exactly what Aang needed right now. I easily earth bended a rock under me to lift me up on the high cliff Toph was sitting. The familiar vibrations of earth moving under me filled me with calm. I threw my legs over the edge and slumped down next to Toph's much smaller frame. “Well I am hot but I can't fire bend. Where are we supposed to get a firebending teacher?”, Sokka couldn't help but smile at his own joke. I let out my low hanging bun, ignoring how my baby hairs are slicked down my face by sweat. “You hot? You're hot when Bisons can fly”, I shot him a flirty smile which resulted in Sokka snorting playfully. Katara ignored our remarks “We could look for Jeong Jeong!”. Aang didn't hesitate to shoot her idea down “Yeah...right”. He slumps down his body over the rock without care “like we’ll ever run into Jeong Jeong again”. Me and Toph look curiously at each other “Who’s… oh”. Toph, annoyed by how the group didn't tell us anything crossed her arms “never mind. If it's important I’ll find out”.

The further the sun moved down the horisont, the more Aang started to avoid talking about a plan. He flung forward Appa on his staff, gliding smoothly over the winds. Both me and Toph clung onto the Appa, not liking being this far above the ground. Sokka was always the comic relief but even him had taken on a mom role “Aang, i think we should be making some plans about our future!”. Aang bluntly ignored his words as he landed next to the fountain, the glider still in his hand. Aang watched us land Appa next to him “Okay, we can do that while i show you the giant Pai Sho table! Oh you’re gonna love the all-day echo chamber!”. He was about to sprint away from us again, away from his responsibilities when Toph trot after words. Her demeanor turned serious, which it rarely does “i think that’ll have to wait”.  Toph shrugs as she points behind herself. Everybody quizzically tries to see what she’s talking about as Appa’s huge frame moves to the side revealing a shadow. As the late day light falls upon him there is multiply gasps within the group. In front of us is a teenager, probably around my age, a head taller or so. What captures me first is his face. His scar to be exact. A scar the size of a palm extends from  his ear and over his eye. It leaves a nasty patch of skin the color of a bonfire. It looks as if he has tried to hide the scar with strands of hair but the hair has a life of its own. It's long, uncombed and falls down his face only to reveal a couple of intense eyes. The color was the same as pooling honey dripping down a warm cup of tea. He was insanely attractive, making my heart skip a beat or two. But he was also screaming to be remembered in the back of my mind. His identity on the tip of my tongue. His honey eyes turn to me for a second but that's enough to spark a part of my memory. Brown eyes mean fire nation. Which makes my eyes quickly take in the obvious fire nation clothing hanging over his long slender body. The previous shock within the group quickly turns into anger. The boy hesitantly raises his hand and gives us a wave, which would be adorable from anybody except a fire bender “Hello”. He tries on a careful weak smile “Zuko here”. That's all it takes for me to take on a fighting position. My hand raised above my waist, fingers vibrating ready to bend the earth to swallow him up. Zuko, The fire prince himself. The gang had told me and Toph stories of his repeated attempts to kill them. His awful actions and how he took katara's necklace. Well, maybe the necklace part doesn't make me that angry. Toph copied my defense, but her motions seemed hesitant.  Zuko opens his mouth to reveal a smoother voice then i expected “Hey, i heard you guys flying around down there. So, i just thought i’d wait for you here”. Appa growled and whatever i thought the bison was going to do, it was definitely not that. He reached out his dark tongue just to lick the boy. The boy let out a eak as he protected his face from the saliva. I didn't exactly recall the first time I met Appa that clearly, but I'm pretty sure he never did that. In the corner of my eye I see Aang's conflicted eyes as he lowers his staff slightly. He trusted Appa with his life, so I understood his internalized battle. But I was unaffected, hand raised protectly. Appa’s tongue slicked up the prince's face again, Messing up his hair even further. Zuko didn't protest this time, he just wiped off the excess mucus. With one last wipe he looked up at us again “I know you must be surprised to see me here”. Sokka looked at him in rage with furrowed eyebrows “Not really, since you’ve followed us all over the world”. Zuko seemed embarrassed as he looked down his feet “Right. Well,uh….anyway…. What i wanted to tell you about is that i’ve changed, and i, uhhh, i’m good now, and well i think i should join your group, oh, and i can teach firebending to you”. I didn't know what to say. The shock seemed to resemble the rest of the group. Zuko seemed to catch on as he opened his mouth again “see i, uhhhh”.Toph didn't give him a second to explain himself further “you what now?”. I had never seen katara as angry as now “You can't possibly think that any of us would trust you, can you? I mean, how stupid do you think we are?!”. Sokka continued her rant “Yeah, all you’ve ever done is hunt us down and try to capture Aang!”. All they were saying was true, but there was a sudden doubt consuming me. It rang warning bells in the back of my head for sure, but there was something I couldn't put my finger on. This couldn't possibly be the evil boy they had described? They told me he had an almost shaved head, just a ponytail. That he hated Aang with no shame. That he would do anything to destroy the gang. The boy in front of me was nothing like that. He was shy, hesitant. Ashamed. He was ashamed over everything he had done. But he couldn't just turn good like that, that's not how it works. This must be another fire nation trick, or so I had  to convince myself. Zuko seemed hurt, in desperate need to defend himself. “I've done some good things! I mean, I could have stolen your bison in Ba Sing Se, but I set him free. That’s something!”. His words seemed true since appa licked him again (much to his surprise). I remembered how hurt Aang was when he lost Appa, is it really possible that zuko saved him? No it couldn't be, he was from the fire nation. Toph had already dropped her defense “Appa seems to like him”. The water tribe siblings turned to her in anger. “I can understand why you  wouldn’t trust me, and i know i've made some mistakes in the past”. The rest of the sparr is a blur to me. I could see lips moving but I couldn't hear a thing. My eyes were stuck on Zuko as I blocked the rest of the world out. I tried to find any mistakes in his clearly made up character but he was spot free. either he was an amazing actor, or everything he said was true. Aang did need a firebender, but the thought of a member of the fire nation, the royal one at that, made my blood boil. What broke my focus was Zuko falling down on his knees. He made himself vulnerable, head bent downwards and hands raised in surrender. “If you won’t accept me as a friend, then maybe you’ll take me as a prisoner”. The words shocked me to the core. If he was really out to kill us he would never have let down his guard like that. Katara seemed to see right through his game “No, we won’t!”. Her little flask dangling by her leg burst open as she water bended a flood against him. It wasn't hard enough to make him go flying off the cliff but it was hard enough to break his position. He fell over, protecting his face. “Get out of here, and don’t come back! And if we ever see you again, well, we’d better not see you again”. Defeated, wet from tip to toe, he moved away from us. As my friends around me started to yell to each other, about how much Zuko was lying. How they would never accept him into the gang. I followed his figure with my eyes. The slumped forward body, the dragging of the feet. I wonder which powerful fire nation person he was going to tell he failed his mission to get into our gang. Because of course it had to be a mission. He could never change… Right?

The next morning seemed slow. My head was pounding from a sleep fof worrying. It didn't help that Toph had disappeared. I knew that Toph could defend herself better than anybody, but I also knew she wouldn't go anywhere without telling me. Katara handed a bowl of breakfast to The duke “Has anyone seen Toph?”. I was surprised that she had even noticed Toph was gone. They weren't exactly close. Sokka yawned and cracked his back from the morning sleep “I haven't seen her since she stormed off yesterday”. Against my will I started to worry. Since yesterday? Had she been out the entire night? I had been grumbling so much over Zuko I hadn't even noticed. I swallowed down the lump of guilt together with a spoon of rice. Katara actually seemed worried for real “I think we should go look for her”, Sokka slumped down next to his sister “Let her have her fun with rocks, i'm in no rush to have her yelling at us again”. I ignored the anger busting up with another spoon of rice. The silence was quickly replaced by the occurrence of a large rumble. Toph comes flying down onto the ground by a pile of rocks that she created from a wall. I rushed over to her, my breakfast thrown in pieces on the ground. “Toph, what the fuck happened?”. Toph slingered across the ground “My feet got burned!”. Katara rushed forward to inspect them “Oh no, how?”. Toph annoyance from Katara's question quickly turned into shame “Well, I kind of went to see zuko last night”. It looked like Aang had been kicked in the gut “You what?”. Without another thought my legs carried me away from the scene. Their voices became a questionable noise as I took off. I only had one thing playing in my mind: Find Zuko and kill him.

[come-on-shitty-boys]

// green hearts. kuroo tetsurou //

Warnings: kuroo’s like . . .  hella mean?

Word Count: 1.45K

Notes: inspired by this fake fic by shitty.  also i finished assassination classroom last night and LISTEN I KNEW IT WAS COMING BUT THAT DIDN’T STOP ME FROM SOBBING wow my heart hurts

Usually the chime of your phone was easily ignored, but even he couldn’t help but get the tiniest bit frustrated when that small ding stole your attention away every few minutes, a cute smile on your face as you raised your phone up to snap a quick selfie.  And it would’ve been fine.  Kuroo had always stood idly by as you flirted and talked with other guys, being your shoulder to cry on whenever your heart was inevitably shattered into a hundred pieces.  He was there to help you type out responses and laugh at the boys who thought “Hey” was a good enough opening line to get your attention.  Kuroo was that friend.  The best friend who was always down to listen to your girl problems, who had a steady stock of tampons and Midol in his club room locker just in case, your meme supplier and the one person that you would have trusted with your entire being.  Yes, Kuroo was your best friend and that’s all he could ever want to be.  

Well, that’s what he always told himself anyway.

But, it was your phone alerting you of yet another Snapchat that finally drew his eyes down to your screen.  You snatched it up so quickly, clutching it to your chest as if you were doing something that you shouldn’t be.  If that wasn’t enough to raise his suspicions, the way your eyes kept darting towards him every few seconds while you tapped out a response, each glance only making you seem to shy further away from him. 

“Who’s in your DMs this time?” The remark was teasing enough, a simple question that he’s asked dozens of times, but this time your response was different.  Your normal giggle as you would sidle over to him so you could show off an Instagram profile was only replaced by a shake of your head and nervous laugh as you rubbed the nape of your neck.

“It’s no one.”

“I’m pretty sure someone is blowing up your phone.  Come on, show me!  How am I supposed to scare him o- I mean- help you talk to him, if you don’t at least give me a name?”

Kuroo scooted closer to you, but you only slid away from him, the grip on your phone tightening even as it alerted you of an incoming message.  “Kuroo, really.  It’s just some guy.”

“Well, yeah.  But, you at least have to tell me who.”  His hand reached out to gently pull your phone screen towards him.

He wishes he hadn’t.

Snapchat from Daishou Suguru 💚

Kuroo’s normal teasing smirk fell before he even had the chance to catch himself.  A hardened stone settled in his stomach and no matter how hard he tried, there was no overlooking it.  He wanted to smile, pretend to be happy for you, put on his usual smile and laugh and tease you about your new beau until the day would come when it would all come crashing down around you.  But, he couldn’t even bring himself to say a word, let alone push a fake smile.  

Really?  Of all people, you chose him?  Had Kuroo really taught you nothing about that sneaky bastard?  He was a manipulative, lying snake who was just going to throw you to the side when he got bored.  He didn’t care about you.  Not like-

Kuroo couldn’t keep that scoff away. His entire being felt heavy, head pounding at a rhythm steady with his heart.  He was sure that if he dared to open his mouth, he wouldn’t have anything good to say to you.  Kuroo felt his fists clench, nails digging into the palms of his hands as his jaw squared.  

“You’re mad,” you state.  

Of course he was mad.  He was angry and frustrated and- and, well, he didn’t really know.  He did know that he couldn’t stand the thought of Daishou Suguru being anywhere near you.  That snake holding your hand, smiling at you, kissing you?  Kuroo could have thrown up his lunch right there at the mental image of you and the one person that he hated most swapping spit.  What was even so great about him?  Daishou wasn’t anything exceptional.  He wasn’t that tall.  He didn’t have an impressive physique.  He was smart, but there were definitely better options.  Kuroo just couldn’t wrap his head around what the hell you were seeing in someone like him. 

“I really like him, Kuroo.  I know that you two have beef, but come on.  He’s really a good guy.  He’s one of the sweetest guys that I’ve ever talked to.  You’re my best friend.  Please, just let me try to be happy, even if it is with Daishou.”

He had never felt more hurt.  Hearing you utter that he was your best friend felt like someone had just taken a knife and sank it hilt deep into his chest, leaving him to bleed out on the floor.  That’s all he was to you.  That’s all he ever would be to you. Kuroo Tetsurou was simply your best friend and that’s all he would ever be.  But, as time continued to tick on by, he found himself hating that idea more and more.  He didn’t want to be your best friend.  He was already the one that you ran to when you were upset, but he wasn’t the one who would sit you in his lap and kiss the top of your head to tell you that everything would be okay.  He wasn’t the one who got to send you sweet good morning and good night texts with heart emojis and cute pet names.  

“He’s just using you, you know that right?  The second Mika says she wants him back, he’s going to forget about you,” Kuroo says, leaning his head back so he didn’t have to see the way you physically flinched at his words or the way that your whole body trembled as you shrank further into yourself, becoming smaller than a meer field mouse.  He leaned his head back so he didn’t have to see your heart shatter into a thousand different pieces from his words.  

“Y-you don’t know that.”

He rolled his eyes, a bored expression painted across those features that you knew so well.  “He doesn’t want you.  He wants a distraction.”

“Kuroo-”

“Daishou doesn’t give a shit about you, but if you don’t want to listen to me, that’s fine.  Just don’t expect me to be there when he hurts you.”

Your phone buzzed again.  Another Snapchat from Daishou to tell you to have a good rest of your school day, that he would talk to you when he was done with practice, that maybe you guys could call tonight if you were free, to remind you that he really did like you, signed with a simple green heart emoji.  But all of that didn’t matter to Kuroo.  He didn’t care what the Nohebi captain said to you, it didn’t change that undeniable overwhelming sense of envy that completely and utterly consumed him.  

The bleachers creaked as you stood and the weight shifted, each step only bringing another groan from the wooden seats.  Kuroo finally looked at you, a completely defeated shell of who you used to be.  There was no smile that would push a matching one to his own lips.  You weren’t laughing and leaning into his side.  No, you were walking away from him without another word, your phone clutched to your chest, eyes focused on the ground because you were sure that if you looked anywhere else, everything would come pouring out.  

Kuroo Tetsurou was your best friend, but he had wanted to become something more for a while now.  Watching you walk away from him without so much as a goodbye?  He was sure that he had ruined any relationship that he had ever had with you and any chances of pursuing something further.  He was so busy trying to convince you that Daishou Suguru would be your ultimate heartbreaker that he didn’t even realize that he was causing you some of the greatest pain that you had ever felt all because he was in love with you and his bitter rival just had the balls to tell you how he felt first.

The green heart was the ugliest emoji that Kuroo had ever laid eyes on, but there was nothing else that better described him.  A heart filled with twisted green flames of envy, a horrible sight really.