#i think there should be like a volunteer group that just rocks up like ‘hey we���ll make your retention pond bomb as fuck and still functional

[solarpunkani]

Late night wishful thinking but like

I think planting funky things around retention ponds should be more normalized!!

Like okay I get it retention ponds are meant to hold the runoff water from parking lots and drive throughs and the like so they aren’t exactly the cleanest water around. But like!!! Maybe this is different in other areas, but the only plants I ever see grow around retention ponds are cattails!! Which, like, are fine and great and dandy lets go cattails, but like

Where’s the whimsy?? Where are the flowers?? If I’ve got to see retention ponds whenever I go to a store or drive down the highway or pick up food for my mom, at least bring in some flowers!!

And it’ll benefit so much! A wider variety of plants can make it a more welcoming home to wildlife! Maybe the plants will filter some of the runoff stuff and the water can then be nicer for even more wildlife! Maybe the flowers can be a nice food source for butterflies and bees on their journeys and day trips!! And humans like seeing things be pretty!

Maybe its easier said than done! Maybe most places already do this and its just my city or state that doesn’t really I’d be willing to believe that! But lets get some color in these goddamn retention ponds!!

Swamp milkweed! Aquatic milkweed! Pickerelweed! Water lilies! Irises! Cardinalflower! Fuck it, put some goddamn duckweed in there!! Get some color in those things or so help me!!

[chaoticbardlady99]

Sheep Thrills (Astarion x GN! Reader)

Synopsis: You and Astarion are often up to nothing good on your rest days. Shortly after the tiefling party, the group decides to hunt down Auntie Ethel in an attempt to rid the Sword Coast of the Hag.

When the group decides to send two people to scout a head- You and Astarion are far too keen to volunteer your time. You have your own research to conduct.

CW: Nothing really besides references to sex(?), just kind of fun and cute

Words: 1.6k

Photo belongs to idk who so please reach out if it’s yours!

Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated! I am just terrible at responding 🙃

The sun holds itself proudly up in the sky and there is a nice breeze in the air. You and Astarion are perched up on one of the higher rock formations that peers down on the Sheep munching at the grass along the river. You have been staring at them for far too long, but the two of you are convinced that something is not right with these sheep.

You had both been absolutely fascinated with the damn things ever since you walked by them to get to Kagha’s note. When you and Astarion graciously agreed to look for the Hag’s house- all of your companions were suspicious.

They should be.

You found the Hag’s home and quickly began trying to unravel the secrets of the swamp instead of going back to camp. You’ve been out here for at least three more hours than you told them you would be.

It’s been a semi-uncomfortable, fun, and muggy three hours- you’ve called Astarion a primadonna a couple times and he’s called you a stubborn bull a few more, but overall it’s going very well after you take a sip of water and he gets a few blissful moments from your wrist. Unquenchable thirst and stake outs never mix.

Something has to be up. The sheep sound unnatural. You both think the sheep will reveal whatever their secret is eventually, but they will not budge.

You’ve offered them snacks, pets, kind words, a generous amount of “BAAs” in return- Astarion even jumped around the corner and scared one of the damn things and yet you are both just as stumped as you had been 3 hours ago.

Unfortunately for these poor sheep, you are a very stubborn Warlock with a nose for shenanigans and have befriended a rogue who encourages (and enables) your thirst for chaos. Neither one of you is willing to walk away until an answer presents itself.

“Maybe- hey get that look off your face-,” You whisper and gently push him as he gives you an unamused look, “I think I figured it out!”

“Your last guess was that the sheep were all going mad from Giardia, my Sweet,” he smirks, “I don’t think Giardia is the direct cause for their baaa-ing sound being so bizarre.”

You feel your face burn up from the pet name and you look away, clearing your throat.

“Yes, I admit that I goofed your Magistrateliness- I said a silly, unforgivable thing,” you say with crocodile tears, “but I think we are overcomplicating this whole thing.”

Astarion raises one his eyebrows at you, “is that so? Please enlighten me, my Dear fearless Knight.”

You roll your eyes so hard you think they may fall out- you are the least knightley person you know. Astarion snorts at your cross eyedness when you finally look at him again with your theatrical unamused smile. Your tadpole wriggles behind your eyes before a fleeting warmth goes through your body and you see your own face through Astarion’s eyes.

Silly and beautiful.

Happiness.

You pinch yourself- willing the tadpole to stop intruding on Astarion’s thoughts and feelings. Although those sentiments make you very very happy- you will not push the matter. Astarion can take it at his pace- he’s been under a shitty, abusive vampire lord for 200 years and he deserves the respect. You only slept together a few days ago anyway- you can be patient.

“Why don’t we just shoot one of the sheep?” You ponder, “if it’s a spell, it will break and then we’ll know they aren’t really sheep. If they are sheep, then we have sheep for dinner!”

Astarion snorts, “really? You’d eat the potentially Giardia ridden sheep? I wish I could say I expected more from you, Darling.”

You glare at him and his cheeky grin. You look away with a pout and feel a cold pair of lips kiss your cheek. Your heart beat picks up.

“I’m only teasing, Darling,” he whispers into your ear, “I maybe only expected slightly better of you.”

“You- Mister Magistrate- are very very mean.”

“I never said I was nice,” he says with a shit eating grin, “well- I’m nice where it counts at least.”

It takes you a second and then you realize what he is saying. He certainly isn’t wrong, but it doesn’t make the blush running up your face any less embarrassing or the way you feel yourself clench around nothing at the thought.

Astarion looks far too pleased with himself and your body’s giddiness in response. You try to change the subject before your words give you away as much as your body already has.

“Do you want to shoot the sheep or should I?”

He scoffs, “I can’t believe that’s even a question. I’m obviously going to be shooting the mangy, river diseased sheep.”

“I should have never said the Giardia thing,” you mutter under your breath.

“No,” he grins, “you really shouldn’t have.”

You watch as he gets his crossbow set up, his delicate hands work assuredly. You follow the flexing of his arms as they work to get the bolt in and get lost in the valleys of concentration on his face. It’s stupid how beautiful he is.

The sound of the arrow whizzing through the air, the loud guttural shriek from the sheep, and the putrid smell of bog water fills your senses all at once.

“Shit.”

You look down and see exactly what Astarion is referring to- the sheep are Redcaps. Of course they are Redcaps! How did you not think of that!? Their beady eyes are looking high and low- one is actually crying over it’s fallen companion which makes you feel like a bit of a dick.

“Aw man,” you whisper, “now I feel like a jerk. We didn’t even give them a fair chance.”

“Life isn’t fair, my Dear,” Astarion whispers matter-of-factly, “which is why we should spend less time empathizing with the things and more time getting out of here.”

You both sneak around to find a pathway that will allow you to waltz away from your mishap before you are overrun by Redcaps. Astarion taps your knee and gestures to a path that will allow you both to get away undetected. You are so grateful you learned how to sneak around like a rogue in your urchin years because oh boy- it was not an easy path to navigate in a full squat.

You both begin running as soon as you are out of the Fey creatures’ vision and you begin to laugh as you come to a halt. It’s a wild laugh filled with adrenaline. It feels so good to be alive.

Astarion stops ahead of you and tries to gesture to be quiet, but it was too late- Wyll was already standing there and looking at both of you like he’s your disappointed mother.

“Three hours!?” Wyll exclaims, “it took you three hours to find one Hag’s house!? The Swamp isn’t even that big!”

“Actually,” you state with fake confidence, “we found out quite a lot of helpful information today.”

“For example,” Astarion quips, “the sheep are infected with Giardia.”

“So help me Gods Astarion!,” you say with a huff before turning back to Wyll, “the Sheep are red caps.”

Wyll was significantly less annoyed after you revealed that information and grumbled about how that is actually helpful information before storming off. You turn to Astarion with a cheeky smile on your face.

“Ha- shows him!” You say with pride, “did you hear that? HELPFUL!”

Astarion rolls his eyes at you, but you can tell he is equally as thrilled as you are.

“I’m still saddened by how little he trusts us to get anything done,” Astarion says with feign hurt, “whatever will I do if our local Knight in Shining Armor is so irritated with me that he won’t come to my aid?”

You know the question is hypothetical, rhetorical even, but you leap up onto the nearest boulder and look upon him- your right hand in a fist over your chest.

“Magistrate- Administer of Bog Laws and entertainer of Sheep Thrills- I pledge my sword to thee! Ye shall never know neglect at the hands of a Knight ever again!”

“Hmmm, but I feel rather neglected by you, my Dear.”

You frown and feel worry fill your body. You hop off the rock and walk over quickly. Astarion looks surprised to see how seriously you have taken his words.

“What did I do? Or I suppose what do I need to d-“

Astarion cups your face with his hands and interrupts your rambling with a chaste kiss. He pulls back and throws his head back in laughter at your flustered expression.

“I-“ you clear your throat, “I must apologize- I did not realize such services were wanted! I shall erectify my mistake starting now!”

“Erectify?” Astarion snorts, “don’t you mean rectify?”

“Oh no,” you smile mischievously, “I know exactly what I said.”

“You are the biggest weirdo I have ever met,” Astarion states affectionately, “you do know that, don’t you?”

“Good! It means I’m not replaceable.”

“Oh Darling, you are anything but,” Astarion presses a soft kiss to your forehead, “you will come to my bed tonight, won’t you?”

“Of course- shall I come to you in the cover of the night,” you tease, “or should I attempt an insane series of parkour moves to avoid being seen?”

“Oh good Gods,” Astarion shakes his head, the smile on his face betraying his attempt at exasperation, “how about this instead-”

You raise your eyebrow at him with confusion and Astarion gestures for you to walk forward. As the two of you turn to camp, you suppress the urge to squeal like a schoolgirl when he intertwines your hand in his as you walk back together.

[lorata]

so the exam week is currently starting over here -advanced biology is the first one for me ;)- so to calm my nerves, could i learn about how your dear victors would cope if they had chosen an academic path?

i do not have the most academically minded bunch, to put it diplomatically, but here goes

answers under the cut for length

Ronan: business or law, probably, something douchey but everyone forgives him because he's just that charming. however he'd be a little bit adam parrish in that his entire backstory is a total fiction and nobody realizes none of them know who he really is

Adessa: biology, genetics, behavioural psychology, i don't even know, she'd want to do everything and probably does multiple degrees. she'd be an absolute terror and "um, actually" everyone so they'd hate her but they'd also fight to be in her highly coveted and exclusive study group sessions

Odin: he'd do very well, obviously, either something obnoxious like classics (affectionate) or coming out of left field with natural science. doesn't really need to study but takes meticulous and beautiful notes

Misha: she drops out of high school in every modern AU i've put her in, so this one is tough! i can only imagine her as a campus cryptid who sneaks into classes without actually enrolling because she's interested in the content and no one knows who she is but they're all afraid to ask. she doesn't do assignments because she's not a student but once in a while she'll turn in something startlingly sharp

Claudius: music, obviously, like if he had to. i think he'd be one of those people who had a rotten time in the early years but liked doing his degree once he got there. assuming he gets recognition & accommodation for the dyslexia i think he'd manage all right

Devon: i think he'd do a degree in social work and he'd be very good at the people aspect and the practicum and all that but the adhd used to have him staring into space and missing things in class as a bb so i think the actual sit-in-chair part of coursework is always his least favourite. the centre is, for better or worse, very active and hands-on; university, not so much. studying has him lying flat on his back with his book laid over his face groaning aloud into the air. he'd need to find a cute boy and play 'one kiss for every fact i remember'

Petra: legitimately I don't know WHAT she'd do for a degree but I know that studying does not come easy to her (undiagnosed learning disability) and she pushes herself to near exhaustion to get top of the class if there are stakes involved (e.g. a scholarship, or Selene). she studies with Dash and works herself to the brink but she does it! and then eventually someone notices and says hey maybe you should get tested, and she resists because what are you implying! but she does, and what do you mean it's not this hard for everyone, what do you mean it could be easier, and she has a full out crying fit right there in the office. and then she still has to work hard but it's not AS hard, you know what i mean?

Brutus: struggled with this one because again, blue collar boy, BUT i genuinely think he'd like sports medicine! he'd need glasses and a dyslexia diagnosis but he'd throw himself at studying the same as at a cliff wall: silently, with grim determination, one step at a time

Emory: another one who in modern AUs like ... runs a bakery giving skills training to at-risk kids and volunteers at the local community centre all with a high school diploma, so my brain squints trying to imagine her in academia. maybe child psychology for teen therapy/counselling? like the others she'd need help with the learning disability but she is very stubborn when she wants to do a thing. flashcards work very well for her bc she can activate memory

Alec: the kind of student who studies super hard and still comes second to the one who rocks up the day of the exam without studying at all, and he tries very hard not to be annoyed about it, but he is, and he knows it's a character flaw, but oh well. med school is hard but he loves every minute of it

Creed: doesn't actually know how to study. he just ... comes to class, understands the material and does well? is that bad? people always make studying sound super complicated, but oh well. 100% poli sci / communications major

Lyme: i can't decide if she'd be on the kinesiology / sports medicine side or over on the social work / child psychologist side (i've written AUs with her doing both), it really depends. either way she's pretty focused and doesn't socialize much until people from class drag her out because they're afraid her brain is going to explode

Enobaria: i'm imagining 5 hour energy + 4 loko + redbull study sessions that leave everyone amazed she's still alive and a little bit afraid, honestly, but she needs the buzz to get her through it because the content is fun but the actual studying is so boring. i think it would help her to record lectures and listen to them while running but it would take her a while to realize it because her whole childhood is people trying to get her to sit down and do her homework ~properly

Nero: definitely social work but with a minor in like ... philosophy? poetry? something like that anyway. i want to say he's pretty quiet in class but does very well on exams and it startles his classmates the first time, but the profs tell him he needs to participate in discussions if he wants a good grade and he's like ............. y tho, but he does after

not sure for my less-developed characters but hopefully this is fun!

[elvish-sky]

Totally and Completely in Love {Legolas x Reader}

A.N: I’m extremely proud of this. I’ve worked on it for two weeks and just really love it. I think it’s actually my favorite thing I’ve ever written, so it would mean so much to me if you guys let me know what you think of it.

Requested by Anon on Tumblr: Hey! Can I request a Legolas x (human)reader where the reader is on the quest with the fellowship and she gets a really bad fever along the way (my idea was she passes out and Legolas carries her and takes care of her - but that's just an idea, you can make it any way you wish!) and while she's in fever shaking and high temperature she accidentally admits her feelings for Legolas not even knowing what she says cause she's so very ill. With lots of fluff along the way - fluff in your fics is just amazing 🥺 OH AND plus Aragorn who's shipping them the whole time like he always does! I was thinking about this for a long time and I just had to request it! Thank you so so so sooo muchh ❤️❤️❤️ Lots of love!

Word Count: 4, 318 ....oops. My bad.

Pairing: Legolas x Reader

Summary: You catch a cold and Legolas takes care of you.

Warnings: Swears, sickness/fever

****

Totally and Completely in Love

You dove under the water, probing with your hands until you hit what you thought was an ankle. Yanking it, you felt the person attached stumble and join you under the water. You came up for air, laughing to see Merry spluttering as he recovered from his sudden dunking.

Leaving Rivendell some days previously, you had been excited for the journey and adventure you were about to embark on. Now, though, you were starting to feel a little worse for wear. After spotting the small waterfall and pool it flowed into, you and the hobbits had begged Aragorn to stop early for the day, desperate to wash up. After a lot of begging, he had finally agreed, and here you were.

Aragorn had wanted to get a more thorough grasp of the terrain if you were to be camping here, and Legolas and Gimli had volunteered to join him. Aragorn had rolled his eyes, knowing that he would spend a lot of time breaking up arguments and friendly competitions between the two, but they left. (You fondly recalled the time when, after a long day of walking, the two had started a competition to find the most firewood. It had ended with them having a tug-of-war with a large log while the rest of the group rolled around laughing at them, which doubled when Aragorn chopped the log in half, causing them each to fall back on their asses.) While they scouted, Sam got a fire going, and Boromir and Gandalf did who knows what, you and the other three hobbits had decided to go wash your clothes. Merry and Pippin had quickly started a fight, however, and upon seeing them in the pool with the mist spraying into the air, creating rainbows, you had stripped down to your underthings and joined them, determined to win, while Frodo looked on and called out advice from a nearby rock. It was freezing, uncomfortably so, but it was worth it to be able to feel even a little bit clean again.

“Nice one, Y/N!” he cried out now, nodding his approval as you dunked Pippin. You ignored the fact that as a human, you had a size advantage over the small hobbits, and proceeded to do a victory lap in the water.

Swimming around, you admired the natural beauty that you had somehow stumbled upon. Small cliffs rose around you, about the height of a small oak tree, sheltering the little lagoon. The waterfall cascaded down the rocks into the pool of shimmering blue water, which filtered out between a small gap in the rocks, forming a river. The green leaves of the trees were reflected in the water, giving it a teal tint, and the sun made the grains in the rocks sparkle. All of this gave the small area a truly ethereal look.

You were suddenly startled from your reverie by two hobbit-sized shapes crashing into you from above. While you had been admiring the scenery, Merry and Pippin had climbed onto the rocks to ambush you. Forcing your head underwater, they giggled as you came back up, gasping. Their amusement quickly turned to fear as you turned to them with a devilish glint in your eyes. You tackled them and smirked as their faces turned to twin looks of outrage. “What was that for?”

“You guys jumped me! I did what I had to do.” You leaned back in the water, very pleased with yourself as you heard a stifled chuckle from the nearby rocks.

“Oh, you think that’s funny, do you, Frodo?” Pippin was advancing on him now, looking comically angry. Merry grabbed him and whispered something in his ear that you couldn’t quite hear. Pippin nodded, his face turning serious.

“We should go back to the campsite, see if there’s any food.” Merry was now climbing onto the shore and tucking his shirt into his wet trousers.

“You just want to steal some of Sam’s stew before everyone else!” Pippin elbowed him. “And what if I do?” Merry set off running towards the campsite, Pippin following him with a curse and a shout of, “Now he’ll eat it all and there’ll be none left for me!”

You made your way onto the shore a bit more sedately. Once out of the water, you began shivering and hastened to get redressed. Frodo had looked away, blushing, when you climbed out of the water, and you teased him. “C’mon Frodo, everything important is covered!”

This was true, you had kept your wrappings over your chest on, as well as your other undergarments. “Still,” the hobbit kept his eyes averted as you tugged your tunic over your head, lacing it as you spoke, “it’s not proper.” You shook your head at him in pretend exasperation. “I’m decent, let us go see if Merry really did eat all the stew.”

Sitting around the fire with your companions, you would have been quite content had you still not been so cold. Sam’s stew had warmed you for a little while, but now you were hunched over in your still-damp clothes, shivering. “Are you all right, Y/N?” Legolas looked down at you from his perch on the log next to you, concern in his eyes. “Yes,” you nodded, teeth chattering. “Just cold.”

“Well, maybe Legolas could warm you up?” Aragorn winked at you.

“No!” you cried, and then leaned over and punched Aragorn’s arm.

“Ow! What was that for?” he exclaimed, but you just sat back, pleased with yourself, yet still shivering.

Legolas looked uncertain for a second, then wrapped his arm around your shoulders, bringing you close to his warmth. You unconsciously pressed closer against him, drawn to the heat emanating from his body. As you did, he stiffened. He then jumped up, leaving you sitting there, confused as he made his way over to his pack. Grabbing something, he came back over and held it out to you.

“You’re freezing because your clothing is soaked!” He informed you and the group of this. “Yes, Legolas, I know. I’m the one wearing the soaked clothes.” You attempted to say this deadpan, but it was ruined by the clicking sound of your teeth chattering.

“Well, I was thinking- I don’t have pants that’ll fit you, but you can wear my tunic.” He blushed. “It might be a little large, but at least it’s dry.”

“Oh, no Legolas, I’m fine, really.” You didn’t want him to notice how you were nervously playing with your hair, something you always did when embarrassed.

“Really, Y/N. Take it.” He shook it at you, and, sighing, you stood and grabbed it out of his hand. “Thank you, Legolas.” You made your way to the edge of the campsite, grabbing a new set of wrappings for your breasts before disappearing into the forest to change.

Behind a tree, you lifted the damp tunic over your head and rewrapped your chest with practiced ease. You then pulled Legolas’ soft tunic on. It was rather large on you, falling a little lower on your legs than yours usually did. It hit your waist at a nice angle, however, accentuating it nicely. The real issue was the neckline. It had no laces and was much deeper than you usually wore, exposing a lot more skin than you were used to. After unsuccessfully trying to close the v-neck in some way, you gave up and just prayed no one would look too closely.

Walking back into the campsite, you draped your wet tunic over your pack, hoping it would dry overnight.

“I feel much warmer now, thank you.” You sat back down on the log next to Legolas. His eyes drifted across your body, taking in the sight of you in his clothes. “It looks good on you.” He blushed, and you tucked a piece of loose hair behind your ear, feeling rather pleased by the compliment.

“Hey, lovebirds!” came a shout from across the fire. Boromir was sitting with Merry and Pippin and was unwrapping something encased in leaves. You quickly scooched apart from Legolas, fidgeting, and craned your neck to see what Boromir had.

“What is that?” Legolas was just as curious, and just as embarrassed.

“While you were all off doing stuff earlier, I went and gathered some berries!” Boromir finished unwrapping them and held them up triumphantly. You could see strawberries and blueberries spilling out onto the leaves, and licked your lips in anticipation. After taking a few, Boromir passed the pouch around the fire, and everyone took a couple. You bit into a strawberry, savoring the sweetness.

“These are delicious, thank you, Boromir.” Aragorn was trying to speak around a mouthful of blueberries, which just caused the blue juice to run down his chin. Soon, you were all giggling at each other devouring the fruit, not caring if any got on your faces. Even Gandalf had a streak of blue running into his long grey beard, a fact that amused Pippin greatly. Finished, you leaned back with a sigh, patting your stomach with satisfaction.

“Thank you, Boromir. Truly, they were a wonderful treat.”

“Happy to, Y/N!” And indeed he did look pleased to see everyone enjoying something he had done for them.

You made your way down to the waterfall, this time accompanied by the whole Fellowship except Gandalf, who had stayed behind to tend the fire. You all splashed water on your faces to clean them of the sticky berry residue. You were careful to just get your face wet, not wanting to dampen Legolas’ tunic, but even with just your face you still got really cold again. Shivering, you turned and walked back to the campsite, admiring the stars shining above the foliage.

Reaching the campsite, you walked over to your bedroll and dragged it closer to the fire. Not so close that people would be worried, but close enough that you could hopefully soak up the meager warmth as the flames dwindled into embers overnight. You climbed in under your blanket and curled up in a ball to preserve as much body heat as possible. Lulled by the crackling of the fire and the soft murmurs of your friends getting ready for the night, you drifted off to sleep, grateful that you weren’t on the watch list that night.

“Y/N. Wake up, it’s time to go.” You were shaken awake the next morning by Legolas, who smiled at you fondly before moving on to help pack up. Stretching, you sat up and immediately recoiled. Your head hurt. And you were cold. And also somehow hot. And you felt a tad bit woozy. But you were fine, you didn’t want to hold up the journey, so you gathered the courage and emerged from your bedding, rolling it up and packing it away as you hissed in discomfort.

Walking across the campsite, your arm was grabbed by Aragorn, who pulled you off to the side. “Are you ok? You look out of sorts.” It was true, you were shaking a little bit with chills, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Oh, I’m completely fine, Aragorn. Don’t worry about me!” You faked a smile in an attempt to prove that you were, as you said, fine. Pulling your arm out of his grasp, you shouldered your pack and set off behind Boromir.

As the day went on, you felt fainter and fainter. One second you would feel like you were a furnace, the next you thought you’d never be warm again. It was taking all your energy to focus on simply putting one foot in front of the other, but you kept going, determined not to be the cause of any delays.

After you had stopped for lunch, Legolas drifted to the back of the group to walk with you. Noticing your shakiness earlier, he had decided to check on you.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” His gaze met yours, and the touching concern in his eyes almost made you stumble, although to be fair anything could have made you stumble, you were so tired at this point.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that? Seriously, Legolas, I’m fi-” Your body finally gave up on you, and you passed out. The elf was not expecting this and tried to catch you as you fell, succeeding only in slowing you down so that you hit the ground gently, cradled in his arms. Feeling your forehead, he sucked in a breath of shock.

“She’s burning up.” He informed the rest of the Fellowship, who were all gathered around the two of you like a bunch of concerned mother hens.

“We cannot stop yet.” Aragorn looked worried.

“I will carry Y/N until we camp for the night.” Boromir volunteered. Had you been conscious, you would have protested being carried at all. You wouldn’t have cared who you were carried by. But someone else did.

“No, Boromir. I’ll carry her.” With this Legolas scooped you into his arms, startling Boromir with his determination. Aragorn just smirked. “Let us continue, then.” And they set off, you in Legolas’ arms, head resting against his chest.

Legolas heard Pippin softly asking Aragorn questions as they moved. “I don’t understand, why did Y/N catch a cold but we did not?”

“Hobbits are hardier folk than us humans. You can withstand much harsher conditions. It is why I did not join you in the water, and I have elvish blood, so it would not have been as bad for me as it is for Y/N.” The elf secretly did not know much about humans and their sicknesses, so he found this explanation rather helpful.

Legolas kept looking down at you, marveling at how, even sick, you looked so peaceful. You wore a faint smile as if you were having a pleasant dream.

“Legolas?” You whispered, squirming in his arms. He jolted at the sound of his name coming out of your mouth.

“Y/N? Are you awake?” He brushed your hair out of your face and saw that your eyes were still closed. He figured it was just you having a dream about the Fellowship, his name just happened to be the one you mentioned. Then you spoke again.

“I love you, Legolas.” He stopped in shock as you shifted in his arms again.

“You love me too? That’s good.” You sighed, wiggling your nose in that cute way Legolas liked, head still resting against his chest.

The elf, meanwhile, was standing there. Dumbstruck, with you fast asleep in his arms, he stood there until an unsuspecting Gimli crashed into him from behind.

“Lad! Yeh don’t just stop in the middle of the path! Keep moving!”

Legolas was still too shocked to come up with a retort, so he silently stepped to the side, letting the dwarf pass. Aragorn was next but paused to get Legolas to keep walking. “Legolas. What is wrong? Do you grow weary of carrying Y/N?”

“No!” The elf turned away from Aragorn, fearing that the man would insist on taking you.

Aragorn backed up a step, hands in the air. “Very well then. If you are not tired, why are you so on edge?”

“Y/N was talking in her sleep.”

“So? What does that have to do with yo- Legolas, why are you blushing?!” The ranger looked very amused by the flushed elf. “What, exactly, did she say?”

“She, um, well- she said she loved me.” Legolas was trying very hard not to meet Aragorn’s eyes.

Meanwhile, Aragorn had a shit-eating grin on his face. “Well, that is wonderful news! Now the two of you can stop the ridiculous flirting and pining.”

“Aragorn- you do not think she could have meant it?” Legolas was now looking at his friend, and Aragorn could see the beginnings of hope in his eyes.

“Of course she meant it! She was having a dream, about you, and told you she loved you. How could it be any clearer?”

“Well, that’s just it. It was a dream. It probably did not mean anything.” As Legolas spoke, Aragorn saw him convince himself that it was not true. “Legolas.” The blond turned his head and looked Aragorn in the eyes.

“I believe that Y/N means what she said in that dream. I have seen it in the way she acts with you. If you do not, then I cannot convince you. But I will say- ask her about it when she wakes up. Just mention the dream.”

With that Aragorn sped up, leaving a conflicted, confused, and still blushing Legolas walking slowly at the back of the group.

“I think you should tell her,” came a voice from down near his elbow. Legolas’ gaze drifted down to focus on Merry, who had somehow appeared next to him while he was lost in thought. “Tell her what?” The elf tried to deny everything, but Merry wasn’t having it.

“Tell her that you love her!” The hobbit looked so earnest that Legolas couldn’t help but listen to him. Merry continued, “I know if I loved someone, I’d want them to know. Not even because we could lose our lives at any moment, just because I think they deserve it. It’s like in the old stories Mr. Bilbo used to tell. She deserves to know you love her, Legolas. Tell her before it’s too late.”

Struck by the serious set of the hobbit’s face, and emotions in his eyes, Legolas nodded. “All right then. I guess I’ll ask her tonight.” He looked nervous, but then his eyes drifted down to look upon your sleeping form, cradled in his arms, and his face softened.

“Don’t let Boromir or Gimli see you looking at her like that, though- they’ll think you’ve gone soft!” And with that, Merry bounded back up to walk with Pippin.

Legolas was again by himself (well, not entirely, you were still there, but that might not count because you were unconscious), left to mull over his thoughts. He had been bluffing with Merry, he was most certainly not going to ask you about your feelings for him that night, but reflecting on the hobbit’s words something struck him. You were all on a perilous quest, it would be better for you to know now. And he could just ask you about your dream, inquire after your sleep. He didn’t have to confess to anything unless you did- which he was sure wasn’t going to happen, who could love him? But it did sound like a decent plan, so he decided to go through with it.

Just as that thought of resolve crossed his brain, you stirred. Opening your eyes, you gazed blearily at the world around you until your gaze came to rest on the face above you.

Blinking, it came into focus. “Legolas? What- why are you carrying me? What happened?”

“You fainted, Y/N. We think you have a fever, you must have caught a cold from swimming yesterday.” He was still walking as he spoke.

“Ok. Well, thank you for carrying me. I can walk now.”

When he didn’t, you asked again. “I’m fine, Legolas. Really, put me down.”

He still refused to do so.

“Put me down, Legolas!”

Finally, he answered. “I will not. I will carry you until we camp tonight.”

Overhearing him, Aragorn called out back to you. “Well, it’s a good thing we just found a place to camp!”

“Frodo, would you mind grabbing me Y/N’s pack from Aragorn and just spreading out her bedroll so she can rest?” Legolas was walking over to a spot he thought you would like as he spoke. Frodo came over with your bedroll, laying it out on a nice, flat area of ground. As pleased as you were, you still had to protest.

“I do not need rest, Legolas. What I need is for you to put me down!”

Sensing that perhaps it was just best to do as you said, the elf gently eased you to your feet. The second you were standing, you started to feel dizzy, and the chills came back. You fell back into Legolas’ waiting arms, too tired to stand.

“Okay, fine, maybe I do need to rest.” You yawned as he lowered you onto your bedroll, tucking the blankets in around you. “But I don’t want to be here, away from everyone. Carry me over to sit around the fire.” You made a regal face as Legolas picked you back up. The fire was crackling in the center of the small clearing, and everyone else was gathered around as Sam served supper.

“So demanding,” he muttered under his breath, jokingly. “Oh!” You were playfully offended.

He set you down, wrapping your blanket around your shoulders before settling next to you. Sam passed you a bowl of stew, and you inhaled the scent of it.

“Rabbit and potato tonight?” You could always guess what was in it.

“How do you guess right every time?” Pippin was amazed.

“I guess I just have a refined, expert sense of smell,” you declared and dug into the delicious stew.

Sighing, you placed your bowl on the ground, empty, and leaned into Legolas’ side. He stiffened, surprised, before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and drawing you closer to him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better, thank you. Still tired, but I’m not as cold.”

He nodded and looked back at your companions around the fire. Who, in fact, were all staring at the two of you. Again. You scooched away from the elf, realized just how cold it was away from his arms, and promptly moved back closer to him, burying your face in his chest to titters from the group around you.

“Oh, shut up.” You didn’t care, Legolas was warm and you were cold, it was as simple as that. Nothing else. Or at least, that was what you were telling yourself.

Later that night, after you had wobbled back over to your bedroll with the help of Merry and Pippin each propping you up on one side, you lay there, unable to sleep. You didn’t understand why- you were very tired, you just couldn’t sleep. Your tossing and turning must have caught the attention of the person, or rather, elf, on watch, as he came over and sat down next to you.

“Are you okay?” He looked worried.

“Fine. I just can't seem to fall asleep.” You sat up, now at eye level with the blond archer.

“Ah. Well, unfortunately, I do not know how to get you to sleep, but I can keep you company if that is all right.” You nodded, and the two of you sat there, looking up at the stars glowing in the sky, framed like a portrait by the foliage of the trees surrounding the clearing.

After a while, he spoke again. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”

You nodded.

“What were you dreaming about earlier?”

You tucked your hair behind your ear, embarrassed as you recalled the dream from earlier where you and Legolas had fallen in love. Deciding that denial was the best course of action here, you spoke. “I did not dream.”

“Y/N. You were talking in your sleep.”

Uh oh.

“What did I say?”

Now he was blushing. You internally prepared yourself for whatever embarrassing thing he was about to say, ready to deny your feelings.

“You, um… well, you said you loved me.”

You wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Legolas. It was just a silly, dream, it meant nothing, I don’t feel that way about you at all…” Babbling, your eyes went back to his face, unprepared for the depth of disappointment in his eyes and the sadness written there.

“You truly do not feel like that?”

After seeing his face, feeling the emotion conveyed in his voice, a small flame of hope lit in your chest. Taking a deep breath, you decided to be brave.

You took his hand, entwining your fingers with his as you took a deep breath. “I lied, Legolas. I love you.”

You saw the shock on his face. “It’s ok if you don’t feel the same, we can never speak of it again. We can go back to normal, this doesn’t have to be a big deal.” Your babbling was cut off by the elf.

“Y/N. I love you. Totally and completely, with every fiber of my being, I love you.”

Shyly, you reached your hand out and brushed his cheek.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“That’s good.”

He laughed. “You said that after I told you in your dream!”

“I did?”

He nodded. “Now, let’s see if you can get some sleep. It’s late.”

He moved so that you were between his legs, head resting on his chest as he leaned up against a rock. You snuggled in close, and he began rubbing circles on your shoulder. He began to softly hum, a tune you did not recognize but liked just the same. Lulled by his soft voice and the motions of his hands, you drifted into a deep, wonderful sleep.

Legolas sat there, you in his arms, marveling at the turn of events. A movement from Aragorn’s bedroll startled him, but he made sure not to wake you up. The ranger sat up, facing him.

“I told you so.” Aragorn winked at him, looking mightily pleased with himself.

“Well, now that you’re awake, you might as well begin your shift of watch!” Legolas looked triumphant and watched as the ranger sighed and rose, moving over to sit on a boulder that overlooked the whole camp.

“Get some sleep, Legolas,” Aragorn advised.

Careful to not wake you, Legolas moved so that he was lying next to you, arm wrapped around your waist and chin resting just above your head. He sighed and felt himself slowly drift off to join you, his beloved, in the land of sleep.

Everything tag 💞: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @hey-its-nonny

Legolas tag: @sheriffgerard @bitter-sweet-farmgirl

[cocobeanncteez]

ATEEZ Yeosang: Soulmate (oneshot)

Genre: Angst, fluff, idol au, soulmate au.

Pairing: Soulmate!Yeosang x Reader (fem) / Yeosang x idol!reader

Warnings: none.

In this world, everyone has a soulmate. Most people give up on trying to find their soulmate, while some travel the world just to find that one special person.

Each person has different indicators that a person is their soulmate; in your case, every mark your soulmate gets on his skin appears on yours, like a burn scar, bruise, or a cut. You didn't have the same moles, freckles, or birthmarks, and if he drew something on his skin, it wouldn't appear on yours; basically, anything that changes an area of the skin that can't be easily or instantly undone, will show up on your skin. Luckily, you couldn't feel the pain from it, you could only see it.

"Y/N, you're next," your group's makeup artist said to you, making you get up from the sofa. You sat on the chair, allowing her to work on your face while you listened to some music. After everyone in your group got ready, you went on stage. You were the leader of your group, so you had to talk before the performance.

-

Ateez had just finished performing and were currently watching your group from the TV in their waiting room while they had some refreshments.

Yeosang wasn't paying much attention as he was really tired... that was until he noticed the burn scar on your finger while you talked: it was the exact same burn scar as his that he got two days ago while helping Wooyoung cook. He got up from the chair, moving closer to the TV to check if it was really the same. He mentally cursed when you gave the mic to another member, cause now he couldn't see your hands anymore.

"What's wrong, Yeosang?" Hongjoong asked.

"Hyung, she has the same scar as me," he replied, showing the scar on his finger, shocking some of the members. "I'm not sure if it's exactly the same."

"Wait, wait, wait," Wooyoung took out his phone; he had already found his soulmate, so he was sure this was a sign. He immediately searched for images on Twitter. When he found a picture of a bruise that you had on your knee, he showed it to Yeosang. "Didn't you have the same bruise last month?"

Yeosang's eyes widened. "No way... this can't be true."

"You don't look very happy for someone who just found out who their soulmate is," Yunho commented.

"That's cause I'm not," Yeosang said through gritted teeth. "I hate this whole soulmate bullshit. I'd rather genuinely fall in love with someone than have the universe choose that someone for me."

None of the guys questioned Yeosang, knowing it was not the best time to talk to him about it; however, they really hoped he would change his mind soon.

-

After your group's performance ended, you all started filming for your behind the scenes content. Today, you all had a challenge to do: your six-member group was split into two teams, and one member from each team had to visit five other groups/soloists in the building to play a round of rock, paper, scissors, and the team who gets the least wins would face a penalty that would be shown on the next vlive. You and one of your members, Aeji, decided to volunteer for it.

After finishing the first four groups, you went to Ateez's waiting room which was at the end of the corridor. Aeji knocked on the door and Ateez's manager opened it. She explained what you both were here for, and he agreed to let you film with them.

You entered the room, bowing to the eight men.  "Hi! I'm Y/N and this is Aeji, we have a small challenge to do here. Could one of you play rock, paper, scissors with us?" You noticed how some of the boys glanced at Yeosang who was staring at your hands. As soon as you made eye-contact with Kang Yeosang, you felt something unexplainable in your heart, making you gasp in shock. Your vision became blurry and your head started spinning, making you clutch your head with your arms in hope of getting the spinning to stop.

"Y/N?! Y/N, are you all right?" you heard Aeji ask, but her voice seemed so far away.

Your head started spinning even faster, causing you to faint.

"Fuck!" Aeji kneeled down, putting your head on her lap while Ateez's staff got some water for you. They sprinkled some water on your face, but you didn't respond. "Oh god, what suddenly happened? She was fine minutes ago," Aeji mumbled to herself, but everyone heard her.

"Yeosang, do something," Wooyoung said. "Maybe she'll respond to you."

Aeji glanced at them in confusion.

"I'm not doing shit," Yeosang said. "You know I don't like this whole soul—"

"I'm sorry, but what are you guys talking about?" Aeji questioned.

"Y/N is Yeosang's soulmate," San stated, making the older man glare at him for exposing him.

Aeji's eyes widened. "Oh, is that so? Well, then do something, please. I don't know what made her faint."

"Well, from what I know, she passed out cause she has seen and been in the same area as Yeosang, but never realized he is her soulmate. The intensity of not knowing but being so close probably caused her to pass out," Hongjoong explained.

You could hear everything, but you just weren't able to open your eyes.

"Hyung, touch her cheek or something," Jongho suggested.

Yeosang hesitated for a few seconds before he sighed, kneeling beside you. He placed his hand on your cheek, gently cupping it, stroking your skin with his thumb. Even though he hated the whole soulmate thing, he couldn't deny that you were absolutely stunning; he had never seen anyone as beautiful as you.

Your eyes slowly opened, immediately landing on Yeosang's beautiful brown ones. Time seemed to have frozen at that moment, and your heart filled with happiness. It was obvious to you that he was your soulmate; you were thrilled about it as you always wanted to find your soulmate, and you always found Yeosang unique whenever you saw him at shows.

"I-I have to go," Yeosang murmured before standing up and leaving the room, leaving you confused. Why didn't he look happy?

-

"Kang Yeosang from Ateez is my soulmate," you told your members. They all were happy for you, except Aeji.

"Y/N, I don't think Yeosang is as thrilled as you," Aeji mumbled. "Jongho told me that Yeosang hates the whole soulmate thing."

"Oh, my brother hated all that too, but after he found his soulmate, he loved it," one of your members said with a small smile.

"Then let's hope Yeosang is the same, hmm?" Aeji said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. You really hoped everything would go well.

-

"Um, hey, can we talk privately?" you asked Yeosang, standing outside Ateez's waiting room. He rolled his eyes, but followed you to the rooftop of the building.

You gave him a small smile. "So, uh—"

"Look, Y/N," he started in a cold tone. "I don't care if we're soulmates according to the universe or whatever shit it is. Neither do I want a soulmate, nor do I need one. I'd rather find someone who genuinely loves me for who I am, not because of some hideous so-called soulmate bond." You just kept quiet, unsure of what to say while your heart ached terribly. 

"So just move on, yeah?" he continued, staring at the clouds moving in the blue sky. "I'm sure you'll find someone who will genuinely love you." He glanced at you before leaving you all alone on the rooftop with a shattered heart.

You always wanted to find your soulmate. You wanted to experience being madly in love with the person you're fated to be with till death. But how could you do any of that when your soulmate doesn't even want you? You wondered how it was so easy for him to break your heart. Was your bond really that weak?

You sighed, blinking away the tears from your eyes. You can't and won't force your soulmate to love you back, so you should probably take his advice and try to move on.

-

"Wow, Yeosang, didn't know you were getting some action," San said with a smirk, confusing the man who had just finished showering.

"What are you saying?"

"No need to act oblivious, we all can see it," Wooyoung said.

"I pity our makeup artist," Seonghwa commented.

Yeosang raised an eyebrow.  "What the hell are you guys talking about?"

Hongjoong rolled his eyes. "The hickey on your neck, obviously."

Yeosang's eyebrows furrowed. He checked his reflection in the mirror, eyes widening at the big hickey on his neck and one below his collarbone.

"It's on Y/N," Yeosang said through gritted teeth, feeling extremely annoyed and hurt. His heart ached terribly. He wanted to see you right now, but it was nearly impossible. Both his and your group's promotions ended two weeks ago, and there was no way he could meet you anywhere outside due to paparazzi. He didn't even have your number.

"You look... pissed," Jongho stated.

"Well, yeah, my soulmate is fucking another man," Yeosang spat before sitting on the large couch in the living room of the dorm, running his hand through his hair in frustration.

Yunho raised an eyebrow. "Do you expect her to wait for you when you literally told her to move on?" he asked in disbelief. "And now that she has, you're pissed? That's unfair."

Yeosang sighed, remembering every word he told you. He knew Yunho was right.

"I know, but... I just can't do this anymore. The bond is torturing me. A-And," his voice cracked as tears swelled up in his eyes. "I love her. I really love her, soulmate or not."

Wooyoung sat beside Yeosang, wrapping his arms around him, letting his bestfriend cry on his shoulder. Everyone could only hope it wasn't too late for Yeosang.

-

"Yeosang... it's been a week. You need to come out of your room," Seonghwa murmured, kneeling beside Yeosang's bed.

"I don't feel like doing that, hyung."

Seonghwa sighed. "We have to practice for the award show tomorrow. Our manager won't let you miss practice for the third time."

Yeosang groaned, putting his blanket over his head. "Can't I miss it? Can't our company say I'm sick?"

"Absolutely not," Ateez's manager said, entering the room. "You might win a big award tomorrow. And there's a large audience, you could draw a lot of attention. Besides, Y/N's group will be there." Yeosang instantly removed the blanket from his head at the mention of your name.

"She'll be there?"

"Yeah, the final lineup got confirmed an hour ago."

-

Yeosang leaned in close to Jongho. "When is our break?" he whispered in Jongho's ear.

Jongho groaned. "Hyung, this is the eighth time you've asked me that in less than half an hour."

Yeosang glanced at where your group was seated; unfortunately, one of your members was covering you, so he couldn't see you. He sighed, shifting his eyes back on the group that was currently performing while he tried his best to wait patiently.

As soon as all artists were given a break, he rushed to your group's waiting room. He found only half of your members there.

"Hello," he bowed. "Where is Y/N?"

"She's in the bathroom on the second floor."

Yeosang rushed there as fast as he could, ignoring the stares he was getting from other artists and staff.

"Y/N!" he yelled once he saw you leaving the bathroom, causing you to turn around.

Yeosang now stood right in front of you, panting from the run. Your heart raced at the sight of how ethereal your soulmate looked tonight, especially in his black suit and newly dyed black hair. He was absolutely stunning.

"Can we talk, please?" Yeosang asked anxiously, hope clear in his beautiful eyes.

You couldn't say no, even though you should've. You simply nodded your head, letting him drag you to the emergency staircase in the building.

You leaned back against the wall, waiting for him to say whatever he wanted to. You noticed how he was fidgeting with his fingers while he leaned against the railing of the staircase.

"Are you okay?" you asked in concern. Your soulmate sighed, taking a few steps towards you.

"Can I hold your hand?" he questioned. When you nodded, he took your hands in his, gently rubbing circles on the back of it while he tried to calm down by taking deep breaths.

"I love you, Y/N," he confessed. "I just... can't stand the thought of you being with anyone else. It kills me to even think of it. I know I was a jerk before and I know you've moved on, but I—"

You cupped Yeosang's cheek before capturing his lips with your own, surprising him; he couldn't believe you were kissing him after everything he said. He kissed you back, his heart beating rapidly like yours. The soulmate bond between the two of you strengthened, causing a euphoric feeling.

You pulled away with a smile that grew wider when you saw how stunned and happy Yeosang was.

"I tried to move on," you explained. "But I couldn't. Not when my heart, my soul, belongs to you. I love you, Kang Yeosang."

Yeosang chuckled happily, leaning in to kiss you passionately. His heart swelled with happiness and he mentally thanked the universe for bringing the two of you together as soulmates.

[yniswaifu]

1. Aran

The match between black jackals and schweiden adlers was about to start. You see the two teams, a cluster of black and white jerseys on the opposites, and play with the ID card hanging around your neck. The stadium was starting to fill out, but it's okay. You were near the vip section since you weren't there as a spectator, rather working for one of the sponsors. Being in the public relations department sure helped in getting the best spots, as you could see the entire court from where you stood. Also, there were lesser people around, something you were grateful for.

The announcers began their announcement, and Hinata's name came up in the beginning. He was doing his debut with this game, and you smiled to yourself. He deserved to be in such a great team. Your eyes then sweep from player to player in both the teams, before landing on ushijima.

Hot dang.

Not gonna lie, he was attractive. His tall figure flexed when he did warm ups, making the jersey tightened around the biceps. You blinked, eyes zeroing on them. Yep, they fine.

But that wasn't why you were his fan. At least that's what you always tell yourself that you totally liked him for his skills. Unfortunately, the truth couldn't be hidden from the voice beside you as it suddenly stated, "not gonna lie, he got a good physique."

The tone was a playful one, but it still didn't make you any less embarrassed. Specially when it came from an equally attractive man who is also selected to lead the Japan's volleyball team in the olympics.

"m-mr Aran." you stutter in his presence. He had shades on, maybe trying to escape the paparazzi's eyes and his face was neutral.

Why is he talking to you? AND WHY DID HE HAVE TO CATCH YOU OGLING OVER MUSCLES.

Aran smiled at you, feeling a bit flustered himself. He isn't the teasing type, and he would definitely not tease someone he met for the first time.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you." he says, palms up in surrender.

You laugh nervously, turning back to the match. The first whistle blows, and the game begins.

"are you supporting the adlers?" he asks after minutes of silence.

You shake your head, focused on the game. "no. I'm with msby."

Aran's eyebrows furrow in amusement. He wanted to ask you something, and you knew what. It would seem like you're supporting the adlers because of ushijima, but in fact you weren't.

So before he could ask you further, you decided to clear the misconception. "sure, I like ushijima. He's a great player. But I've worked for the other team, and I know how much they rock. Moreover it's Hinata's first game with them. They have to win."

Again, Aran is a little surprised. You seemed into the match, your body moving on reflex with the flow of the game. Your little whispers of encouragement for the black clad team was...cute.

Then he notices the card hanging around your neck. It was only for the official members, like volunteers or sponsors. So he wondered which part did you belong to. Moreover the place where you both stood – wasn't allowed to the public. It was for players and the management team.

"are you a volunteer?" Aran took up the courage to ask you.

You glanced at him, before smiling. "no. I'm part of the PR team for one of the sponsors of the tournament. So I have a pass to be here."

He nods at your words, and a sudden roar around the stadium takes both his and your attention to the super spike ushijima just pulled.

"your crush scored against the team you're rooting for. How do you feel?" he asks you, smirking at the flustered expression on your face.

You laugh a little, shaking your head. "he's not my crush. He's just a player I really admire."

"right...that's why you were giving him googly eyes."

You grow stiff at the words. First of all, you seriously felt anxious standing near Aran. He was not only a great player, but he's also very handsome and he doesn't have any reason to talk to you. Not that you minded, since you are used to interacting with popular players. But none of them have ever used such a...teasing tone with you before.

And here he is, trying to be friendly with a no one like you (at least that's what you think).

"you know." you suddenly say, your nervousness diminishing a little. "I was an intern in the MSBY black jackals PR team."

Why did you say that? You wish you had the answer. Best guess is you don't want another word about ushijima and his muscles out of this man's mouth. And how you were staring at them.

"oh? So that's why you're supporting them." Aran chimes in a thoughtful manner, eyes on the game. Atsumu had just served sakusa, and a sense of pride filled his chest looking at his junior.

"yeah. That's part of it. Another part is because they are amazing at what they do. I've seen it first hand. Not that adlers are bad or anything..." you finish in a mumble. You certainly didn't want to seem biased.

Aran gave out a laugh at your words, highly amused by now. You were awkward and nervous, that much was obvious, but it was funny to see you masking it. He didn't know why he came to stand beside you, he just saw a lone figure who probably didn't look like they cared for what's around them, and decided to stand there when he saw your zoned out expression. It looked funny. Following your line of vision, he sees ushijima warming up. You must have thought no one was around so you didn't bother hiding your expression, and Aran caught you. And he doesn't regret it one bit.

"you were an intern. Which means you didn't have a lot of interaction with the boys huh?" he asks.

"no, not really. I did talk to them a couple of times, when we had to promote the players. The most I've worked with is hinata, as he was new. So I'm familiar with him more than the others."

"cool. You know Atsumu? He was my teammate in school as well." he states, smirking.

You give him a tight smile. "yeah I know. Everyone knows."

Aran's smile drops. Right. Atsumu was popular. Who also had a Wikipedia page for himself. So did Aran. Of course people will know.

Clearing his throat, he doesn't say anything, but stares at you. You had a very simple aura about you. And he kinda dig that. You looked at the players taking a break before the second half of the game, which your team was leading, by the way. The only reason Aran had come was because Atsumu insisted he does. And because Osamu had his stall perched outside the stadium – something he had to check out. Seeing the twins grow up made him feel like a mother watching her children grow up.

Aran suddenly had the urge to ask for your number. But he wasn't sure. You didn't seem the type to share contacts just because the other person is popular or attractive. Moreover he had been getting this feeling that you didn't want to talk to him. And even if not a lot of words were shared between you two – he quite enjoyed this conversation. Too bad you didn't feel the same. According to him.

But oh whatever. You won't know unless you try eh? YOLO.

That's what Aran thought when he decided to ask you. "what's your name? I'm sorry I didn't ask earlier."

You turn to him, eyes widening. Did the Aran ojiro ask your freaking name?

Butterflies, calm down. It's not the time.

"y/n." you say, trying to be as calm as possible.

"y/n." he repeats, your name rolling off like Hershey chocolate syrup from his tongue. Wait what?

"it's a pretty name." he smiles.

It took everything in you to not jump in excitement. Is Aran flirting with you? You don't know whether you should panic or fangirl. It's almost like, fight or flight.

"thanks." you reply, tucking your hair behind the ear. Aran is still smiling, his eyes creasing into crescent moons.

Silence. Awkward silence.

You don't know what else to say. No one prepared you for this type of situation. And the same could be said for the man in front of you. No one told him he is meeting a potential soulmate today.

Breaking the tension first, you check your watch and tell Aran, "uh, I gotta go. The match is coming to an end, and I have to get ready for the press conference."

Aran almost, almost frowns in disappointment. "don't you want to see who wins?" truthfully, he didn't want you to go just yet.

At that you couldn't help but giggle. Are you sure it's the same guy who is the ace for his team and who is going to lead Japan's team?

"mr Aran, I'll know anyway. It's going to be announced throughout the stadium. And in the conference." you say, turning to the score board. "moreover, msby is leading. They are gonna win this." you finish, determination in your voice.

With the conviction you said those words, Aran wished he could get them for himself personally. He wished you could only cheer for him. Because if you did, there's no way he'd even think of losing.

"right. My bad. See you around?" he says, hoping for a positive response.

You thought about it for a moment. Is this right? You are no fool, you completely understand what's going on here. The question is, why.

Aran seemed to notice your hesitation. "it's okay, if you don't want to. No pressure." he says, giving you a smile that didn't really look like a smile.

Way to go y/n, you heartbreaker.

You suddenly had an idea. Quickly taking out your phone, you opened your instagram and shot a text to Aran. "that should do..." you whisper.

Aran looks at you confused. What were you doing?

Smiling, you wave him a goodbye and run off towards the direction of a group of media people.

What just happened?

Aran blinks at your retreating figure when his phone buzzes. It was Osamu. He smiles, and then his eyes go towards the notification. Someone had texted him on instagram. And that someone was you.

"hey. Let's talk!"

He stares at your text for a good minute before bursting out laughing. A couple of people looked at him laughing at something on his phone, but he didn't care. The text gave such a dorky vibe he couldn't help it.

He sent you a laughing emoji, and shoved his phone back into his pocket before walking away, the smile not leaving his face.

Maybe he did meet his soulmate already.

***

It has been exactly four months since you and Aran started talking on Instagram. Yet, Aran hasn't asked for your number. He just didn't get the courage to. He is almost convinced it was love at first sight with you, because since the day he saw you and spoke to you, till now, when he's laughing at the memes you had spammed him with, his head hasn't been felt this light. Even Atsumu had commented during their practice for the olympics, that he was seeing sparkles around him. Of course, that got the setter a smack on the head, but Aran knew it was because of you.

What was he supposed to do. He was falling for you, and he was falling hard.

Looking at the conversation y'all shared one last time, Aran decide enough is enough. He was going to ask for your number.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitation settling faster than it can be allowed. But will you give him your number? Talking on social media is different, and talking through your personal number is different. It was more...intimate.

Sighing, he throws his phone on the bed, taking his head in his hands. The game was in a few days, and he had to do something about you because you're all he's thinking about.

Suddenly his phone rings and he looks at the caller. Aran has never looked so done than he's doing now.

"what is it?" he answers the call.

"is this how you greet your favourite twin?" Atsumu replies from the other side in mock offended tone.

"I'm not coming to the bar, if that's the reason why you called."

"h-how did you know?" Atsumu asks, almost yelling in the phone.

"because that's like, the only reason you'd call me at this time?"

"..."

"fair enough" the blonde states after a minute of silence.

Just then Aran had a thought. It wouldn't hurt to ask right?

"remember a couple of months back, say, earlier this year, someone had interned for your team." Aran says.

"hmm? A lot of people interned Aran san, who are you talking about?" Atsumu asks, confused.

Aran gave him your name, running down a brief description of how you look, and added the fact that you had spoken to hinata because he was new as well.

"hmm...y/n...I think I remember her." Atsumu says.

Aran's eyes lit up. "so d–"

"are you interested in her?" came the question from the other line.

Shit.

Regret fills Aran not a second after that question. He never considered the fact that he was asking the last person he should ask, specially for a girl's number. This ain't gonna end well.

"...yeah." he answers, a defeated sigh escaping his lips.

Another minute of silence. Cue the dramatic reaction in 3...2...

"ARAN SAN DID YOU FINALLY MEET THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE!?"

It was so loud that Atsumu's voice echoed even when Aran had literally walked away from the phone after setting it down on the bedside table. Why isn't he surprised?

There were some more loud incoherent response, that he didn't bother listening to. He ultimately picked up the phone when a series of 'hellos' flooded through the phone.

"yeah, I'm here." he says, cutting the question off.

"gosh, seriously? How? Why? When? WHAT!?" Atsumu asks, flooding the call with questions again.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Aran narrates the incident briefly. Atsumu screams again.

"I can't believe you found a girl for yourself! That too someone I know!"

Aran smiles as your picture comes to his mind. "yeah. I can't believe it myself."

"so when are you asking her out?"

The smile dropped. "I don't have her number." he mumbled.

"say what?"

"I...don't have her number. I was meaning to ask you if you have it or not." he says, this time more clearly.

"you...why don't you have her number again?" Atsumu asks, perplexed.

"because I felt she'd stop talking to me. She isn't exactly the most open person around."

"hmm. That's kinda true, I'll admit." the Miya says, "even when she was an intern here, she mostly stuck to herself and her work. But she was friendly."

Aran nods to no one in particular. "so? Do you have it?"

"I gotta check. Like you said, she was closer to hinata. If I don't have it then he might have it." Atsumu says before continuing. "wait a minute. What do I get from this?"

Aran's eyebrow raises in confusion. "an awesome sister-in-law?" he states like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Atsumu laughs. "very nice. But I'm serious."

"I'm serious too." Aran says in heartbeat. Did Atsumu think he wasn't serious about you? Rude.

"woah. Okay. But if I get the number, you gotta come to the bar with me." the voice from the other side says.

"cool."

He could at least do this if he gets your number right?

Atsumu cuts the call with a cheer. A few minutes in, Aran's phone pings, and there it was – your number.

I didn't have it. Got it from shoyo. Atsumu wrote.

Thanks man.

You better be there. I'll be waiting.

A'ight.

Feeling giddy, Aran saves the number and sends out a silent prayer that you haven't changed the number.

hey. Is this y/n? Aran texts you, legs bouncing as he sits on his bed.

A second later. who is this?

Aran

Suddenly the phone rings. Panic sets in Aran. He didn't expect you to call.

Picking up the phone, he kept silent, waiting for you to speak.

"how did you get my number?" was the first thing you said.

"I asked Atsumu. Who asked Hinata."

You made a noise, kinda like in disbelief. Then you start laughing. "why didn't you ask me?"

Aran looked guilty. "I...didn't think you would give me your number."

"ah..." you trail off. You couldn't deny it. You were a skeptical person. "I didn't think Hinata would still have my number though..."

"maybe he still thinks you're his friend."

Friend? Sure, Hinata was a friendly person. But being 'friends' with the staff wasn't exactly ideal for players.

"maybe." you say softly.

"ah, I wanted to ask you something." Aran says, after a minute of silence.

Your heart picks up. Was he going to drop the L-bomb? You couldn't deny the affection brewing in you, specially after talking to him for a couple of months now, and knowing how sweet he is.

"w-what did you want to ask?" you ask, stuttering a little.

"will you be there on the day of the game?"

You had the urge to roll your eyes and pass a snarky comment. If there was something that amused you like heck, it was this habit of Aran where he would ask the most obvious questions. Like meeting a someone in the movie theater and asking "whatchu doing here?"

"yes. We are one of the sponsors." you answer, moving aside the urge. This sweet man doesn't deserve that sass.

"oh great. So...will you meet me before the game? I gotta tell you something."

Your eyes widen. Millions questions run in your mind and all point to one direction – something that you don't want to believe is true.

"okay." you answer, your voice coming out a little strained.

"really? Cool! I'll see you then. Goodnight." Aran beams before cutting the call.

You blink at the black screen of your phone. Did he really call you for this? Men are so confusing.

***

Aran was nervous. The room was brimming with men dressed in the red team uniform, and his eyes was floating between the teammates. It lingered a longer on ushijima, and he mind went back to the time when you had commented on ushijima's birthday post with lots of hearts. The jealousy he felt, sheesh.

Then he turns to sakusa. According to you, he was the only one you never spoke to even once. He mostly kept to himself, but every fellow intern with you swooned over the mysterious man. He had grimaced at that. Did y/n too swooned? Guess we'll never know.

Finally, his eyes land on Atsumu who was talking to bokuto. He was the only one who knew about you, and Aran worried that he will open his big mouth, but the blonde proved to be more faithful than that. But it still didn't stop him from hammering Aran with questions about you.

Aran's eyes flickered to his phone every other minute, waiting for the text from you, saying you were here. You had told him you'll text him, so he was waiting for the go.

"you have been staring at the phone since forever." a chirpy voice brings him out of the daydream.

He turns to see Hinata, smiling up at him. "are you waiting for something?"

Before Aran could answer, his phone pings and the screen turns on, displaying your name (that had multiple hearts beside it) and the text saying you were waiting for him outside in the corridor.

Both he and Hinata stared at the phone, at your text. Suddenly the tangerine goes, "is y/n your girlfriend Aran san!?"

And boy, was he loud.

Every pair of eyes in the room turned to their flustered looking captain, who just stood there speechless. Atsumu, who was mirroring Aran, jumped to defend him.

"h-hey now. Let's leave him alone. I'm sure it's nothing–"

"ah, I see y/n standing there though. Hi y/n!"

Atsumu turns to see bokuto and Hinata at the entrance, waving at someone. Too late.

Slowly everyone poured out of the room, looking at the one who apparently stole their leader's heart.

You.

And you? Yeah, you are definitely representing a new born calf with your shaky legs. No matter how many people you have met through your job – a group of hunks, who are also national players mind you, and at least a head taller than you, staring at you like you're some sort of star, doesn't help.

It looked like a herd of huskies looking at a small mouse.

You wanted to run away.

Hinata walks up to you, clapping your shoulder lightly. "long time no see y/n!" he greets you, smile wide.

You give him a nervous smile. "hey shoyo kun..."

"so you're dating Aran san?" bokuto pipes in from behind Hinata.

Your eyes almost pop out of your sockets? What in the world...

"no I'm not." you say, firmly but politely.

His eyebrows scrunched in a frown. "then why did he have hearts beside your name?" he murmurs to himself.

You didn't quite catch that. So you ask, "pardon?"

"nothing. It's nothing." you finally hear the voice of the person because of who you came all the way here. And even put in a little effort with the makeup.

Aran walks up to you three with long strides, his expression almost panicky. He stands beside you and sighs. "guys. Please. Let her breathe."

Both hinata and bokuto look at each other before exchanging a knowing smirk and step back a few steps. Something you were grateful for. It was getting too much.

Aran smiled at you softly before introducing you to everyone. A series of 'hi' and 'hello' circled around in response. Hinata, bokuto and Atsumu knew who you were already. Atsumu even went beyond and did a dramatic bow before taking your hands in his and tried to place a kiss but Aran's loud clearing of throat and your panicked face stopped him.

But nothing prepared you for ushijima's turn. He just stood in front of you, his eyes unblinking and his face without expression. You almost mistook him for an android, when he gives you a small smile. "hello."

It was a polite smile, something people do out of curtsy but that didn't stop you from internally squealing because OH MY GOODNESS USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI JUST SMILED AT ME.

Aran saw how your palms were in a fist. You were trying not to fangirl, he noticed. It made him a little sad to be honest. If only he would get the same reaction from you.

"hello." you say, trying to focus. "all the best for the game. All of you."

Everyone thanked you before they all went inside the room, leaving you alone with Aran. They could see how eager he was to be with you in some privacy.

Aran turns to you and smiles again, but that quite didn't reach his eyes. You frowned at that.

"are you nervous for the game?" you ask him.

Aran shakes his head. "a little. But I know we'll be fine."

"then what's got you looking so forlorn?"

Aran chuckles at your choice of words. He knew you liked reading classics, and that's where you got most of your vocabulary from. "it's nothing. I'm happy to see you. Sorry for the chaos in the beginning." he points towards the door.

You smile. "it's okay. I was a little surprised when I saw bokuto san and shoyo."

"yeah..."

Aran looked distracted. His hands were clasped together and he looked everywhere but you. You tilted your head, wondering what's gotten into him.

"mr Aran, are you okay?" you ask, your voice carrying concern, something that felt like music to the man in front of you.

He stares at you. You squirm a little under the intense gaze, and as much as you wanted to stare back and get lost in those eyes, you had to be sure this is going towards where you think it's going.

Suddenly Aran steps closer, his chest hitting your chin. You look up at him and before you could understand what's happening, he cups your hands in his large hands and place a deep, but soft kiss on your lips.

At that moment, your first instinct was to check whether there were other people in the area.

His lips were soft. You always thought they were. They looked so soft that you had asked him what he used for his lips and actually went and bought the same chapstick. They were also thick, something you were a little envious of.

But oh well, those same luscious lips are smooching the heck outta you.

You grabbed his forearms that held your face delicately. Aran parted his lips more, and you bit on his bottom lip, earning a soft groan from him.

As for Aran, yeah. You can say he was ready to drop on one knee and ask your hand for marriage. He was THAT crazy about you. And the kiss just took the cherry on the cake.

Aran parted from you, both of your eyes in a daze, before he snapped back to reality. His eyes widened at your hooded eyes and parted lips. He tried to remove his hands from you but your grip on him stopped him.

"you really need to check your surrounding before doing something like that." you state moments later. Your eyes looked more clear now, and you were staring at him with some unknown emotion.

Aran gulped and looked around, finding the place empty except for the two of you.

"I'm so sor–"

"sorry doesn't cut it." you cut him off. You weren't even smiling. Are you mad at him?

Aran doesn't know why he suddenly kissed you. He just wanted to. You looked beautiful. You are beautiful. And Aran wanted to kiss you.

Suddenly your face breaks into a small smile. "I don't need your apology. I want you to ask me out so I can say yes."

He just looks at you, stunned. So...his feelings are reciprocated?

Aran wanted nothing more than to just hug you and jump around in joy. Even shout out his love for you. But if he did that it will cause trouble. So he's gonna reserve that for when the two of you are alone.

Placing his forehead on yours, he asks in a whisper. "will you be mine y/n? I'll treat you like a queen."

"only if you get me a selfie with ushijima and his autograph."

Aran laughs, his head too high in the clouds to even feel jealous. He knows you don't mean it. He knows you are his. And he is yours.

"but it's you I'll be cheering the most for. Get em' captain." you finish the sentence.

Aran nods, your foreheads still against each other. He wanted to cry. But no, not yet. He's going to win this game for you. And hug you in front of everyone. And then cry in your arms. And then–

"you should go inside. It's almost time." your voice snaps him back from the fantasy.

He looks at you, now standing a little apart from him. Your hands were beside you, and you were giving him the googly eyes now.

Taking your hands in his, he kisses your knuckles. "I love you." he says, and walks off, leaving you a hot mess.

Well, this is interesting, you think, smiling in anticipation for what's to come.

Best boy Aran deserves a good scenario too. And I hope it lives up to his expectations. 😬

I got three more scenarios coming up for my three favourite boys – Osamu, Suna, and husband Kita. I'm not sure when I'll update it but it's coming soon. Stay tuned.

[sagemusesoutloud]

Anti-Romantic, Part 1

(credit to the original owner of the image)

Character | Jaehyun x reader Genre | nonidol!au, Mutual Pining, Slowburn, Fluff WordCount | 3.6 K Author'sNote | lmaoooo the fact that I intended this to be a oneshot type of thing oops. Wellllll, I tried. Most likely to be a two part series, but we'll see.

This is part of a series I intend to call "If Songs were Fics" and this particular one was loosely inspired by TXT's Anti-Romantic bc I'm obsessed. I hope you enjoy reading as much I enjoyed writing it!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

I don't know who loves me

And I don't care, It's a waste anyways

A romantic feeling, Kinda scares me

“Any plans for you birthday next week?”

Jaehyun shakes his head at you, “no, not yet, don’t you have that date with that barista?”

“I’m not sure, he’s been acting weird over text lately. Might not be worth it,” you shrug your shoulders. “Besides, it’s your birthday! You only get one of those a year, we should plan something.”

You were on your way to the gym, a ritual you and Jaehyun had ever since you both found out you worked for the same company. You had been childhood friends, but ended up losing touch since you went to separate universities.

It was a nice surprise to see a friendly face on the first day of orientation and throughout the duration of your training for the next six weeks. Although you were both from different departments, you enjoyed taking your lunch breaks together and sharing small gossip about your old class-mates.

“ugh, don’t remind me,” he let’s out a long sigh, “every year, it seems like my family won’t stop pestering me about starting a family.”

“What’s so wrong about that?”

“Nothing, just not for me. Or at least not yet. I don’t think I’m the type to settle down,” he shrugs again as if it were no big deal.

You gasp, “how could you say that? I’ve seen your insta account. It’s got your cousin’s kids all over it!” You stop to take a good look at him as he holds the door of the gym open for you. “Back in school too, you used to tutor those elementary kids for volunteering hours. Even when you didn’t need them. You’ve always liked kids.”

“That’s different…”

“Right. Totally different things. Got it,” you roll your eyes. This wasn’t the first time he mentioned not wanting to settle down. At first, you had thought it was because he liked ‘keeping his options open’ like back in high-school. Or, not that you knew for sure, but if the rumors were true then it meant he slept his way around. Apparently, he never slept with someone twice and despite the cold shoulder the other party would get, all you had ever heard were praises. Not that you paid that much attention or anything.

You and Jaehyun had the same circle of friends, but despite that, he had never made any advances towards you. You’d be lying if that didn’t bother you at least once or twice. You just assumed that he didn’t want to make the friendship awkward or mess with the friend dynamics of your group. Which was why your crush on him in junior high ended as soon as you got to high-school.

You ended up going on dates with other people, but nothing that kept your interest. Nothing that compared to how you felt around him. Not that he seemed to think the same, so you tried your best to stay the good friend you always have been. You didn’t want to push something he clearly didn’t want; not that it didn’t hurt any less. Throughout the years it’s become bearable, at least. Almost like a painful habit.

You check in and head to the locker rooms to change. His nonchalance about the subject had always puzzled you. You’d seen first hand how all the female coworkers seemed to sway their hips as they walked by him, how some would pop a blouse button more than usual when around him, and you swore no one else was getting that much help throughout training more than him. He was handsome and a gentleman, that much was painfully obvious.

You meet him outside by the water fountain, “ready for warm-up?” he guides your way to the treadmills.

“When’s the last time you dated?”

You would have laughed if you weren’t so shocked to see him trip from the corner of your eye. “why the sudden curiosity?” He finally responds.

“Not sudden, I’d always wondered.” You defended. “You’re good looking and you’re very…I mean, you live on your own and have your own car. You have good relations with your family AND you’re good with kids. So, what is it?” You hadn’t realized how troubling you thought it all was. But now that you started digging you couldn’t stop.

“I just—” you pause, “it doesn’t make sense.”

You hear him chuckle, “you might wanna slow down before you pull something.” You look down and realize that your pace had gone from a relaxed jog to a borderline run during your rant. Maybe this wasn’t the best time to psychoanalyze your only friend in the city.

“Well, I just don’t know how to let people in. It’s just that.” He finally responds. “I love kids, but I don’t know or think I’d be a good partner.” He slows down before stopping, ending the conversation. He waves you off with an easy smile as you stay running.

Huh, maybe you pushed him too far. Your eyes can’t help but follow him around the gym.

Sweet and bitter chocolate, The taste at the end is always the same

Like the saddest movies, Only tears in my eyes

Your hands were sweaty the entire morning, anticipating your lunch time. It was his birthday today, and while you hadn’t made any concrete plans you ended up agreeing to go over to his place after work. Your gym bag was ready with snacks and comfy clothes to stay over. You remembered him saying he was excited to watch that new Marvel movie that had recently come out so you had bought it online to stream it at his place as a surprise. But what had you nervous was the small heart shaped box sitting in your purse. You didn’t know what possessed you to buy it but you had immediately thought of Jae when you passed by it at the mall. You remember vaguely mentioning that it was a special occasion to the sales lady (as in, his birthday), but she must have thought it was your significant other rather than friend because she changed the box to the red velvet shaped one while giving you a wink. In her defense, you could have protested but…why didn’t you?

You hear a knock on your door, “hey little miss sunshine.” Ah, Nakamoto, this couldn’t be good news. He was only sickly sweet to you when he needed a favor.

“What do you want?” you deadpan. He only laughs as he makes himself comfortable in your office. “Well, nothing in particular. Can’t stop by and see how you’re doing?” he feigns hurt.

“Right—the last time you ‘came by’ you left me working over-time through the weekend,” You sigh, “so what is it this time? Missed meeting? Late proposal?” To be fair, your supervisor WAS overworked sometimes. And since you were the only worker under him, it was normal for him to sometimes share some of the load with you.

He smiles at you, “nope. Just have a proposal for you. I know you’ve been working hard these past few months and I’ve been really impressed by your work ethic.” He stands and moves closer to your desk, “And I thought some sort of reward was in order, as well as celebration.” Ok, now you’re confused. You were ok with the reward part, it usually came in the form of a gift card to your favorite coffee shop, but celebration?

“Why would we celebrate? Did I miss something?”

“Not yet, but I did recommend you to the partner position with me. And I wanted to be the first to tell you that the boss approved it earlier today. So, what do ya say? Dinner on me?” he extends his hand out to you and wiggles his eyebrows playfully.

Oh.

Shit! You were hoping this would happen eventually, moving up from the entry-level position you had. But you had never thought it would be this fast. “Oh my gosh, are you serious?” You give him your hand and he shakes it in mock salute.

“Of course, some people will come by to move your computer to the office next to mine. You start Monday!” he winks, “So, wanna go to that new rooftop restaurant? This is a once in a life-time ticket, so you best say yes.”

But your dinner with Jae…He’ll understand, right? He has to. It’s not like he seemed that excited about it anyway. And you could always spend the day together tomorrow, too. It would be pretty rude to turn down Yuta after he pulled some strings for you…

You smile at him, “Thank you Mr. Nakamoto, I won’t let you down as a partner. Yeah, dinner sounds great. Wanna meet there?”

You sit down on the small table, now nervous for other reasons.

Jae sits opposite of you, a small smile on his face. “Hey you,” he greets.

“hey…” you start, “I hate to change plans so suddenly, but…” crap, you feel really shitty. But you really were between a rock and a hard place.

“everything ok?”

“yeah, no. I actually just got promoted,” you start.

“You did? That’s awesome! So fast, too. Wow—but shouldn’t you be more enthusiastic about it?” he chuckles.

“I am, just—my old supervisor wanted to go to dinner to celebrate. And I don’t think I could say no after helping me out like that.”

“I mean, did you want to skip it or?” Now he’s confused.

“Well, he wanted to go out tonight since I start Monday and today’s Friday…I don’t think I can come over tonight,” you explain.

Realization crosses his features before he gives a small smile. “Don’t worry about it, you’re fine. And he’s treating you! You don’t know when the next time he offers might be,” he continues, “we can celebrate another day anyway.”

“Are you sure?” now you feel like shit.

“Of course I’m sure.”

For the rest of the lunch, a thick silence settles before he excuses himself back to work.

Jaehyun knew this was coming. Nothing ever went his way; it’s why he kept everyone at a distance from his heart. But he was weak when it came to you. This game of push and pull was bound to keep happening, and it only brought him that all familiar foul taste in his mouth.

I know, that sweet love song, Those words of promise

When you turn around, It's just an unfamiliar someone

It was why he decided to go else-where for university, instead of joining you and some of your friends to the one closest to home. He chose to go across the globe—far, far away from the curse of you.

It had started on a windy day, back when you were 4 and new to the town he grew up in. Jaehyun didn’t want to leave his mother’s arms, he didn’t like the thought of being with strangers until later in the day even if his mom promised that she would be back. A little girl with jean overalls like his came up to him and his mom, “why are you crying?”

“I am not!” he sniffed. He didn’t need to make new friends like his mom was trying to tell him. All he needed was to go back home. You took out something from your pocket and showed it to him, “look, my mom said I could give one to my first friend. She said it was sharing. Want one?”

In her little palm, were two kiss chocolates. “You’re not my friend,” he grumbled, “I don’t know your name.” At that, you giggled, “I’m Y/N!” you took his hand and placed a chocolate there, “there, now we’re officially friends.”

“See, Jae? You can spend some time with Y/N and have fun. Before you know it, I’ll be back,” she promised.

“Yeah, Jae! Come play blocks with me, and then we can try the coloring.” You held his hand as you led him deeper into the classroom. Just like that, Jae began to feel a little warmth in his chest. He didn’t mind that his favorite thing to do was play tag outside or that he wasn’t really good at coloring inside lines yet. But that didn’t matter to him. As long as he had this one friend around, he was content.

Sorry I'm an anti-romantic, I want to run far away

My heart that already chases after you, Blazes up as a small flame

Looking back at it now, it was a little funny. All it took to let you in back then was a simple chocolate kiss and your little sticky hand in his leading the way. You were always larger than life to him, sometimes he forgot that you were just as human as him.

As you two continued to grow, nothing seemed to change your friendship. But he knew that the depth of his feelings wasn’t mutual. It was in the way that you brought a lot different people together and decided to call it your family. Another of your friends, Jungwoo, liked to joke that you collected introverts for fun. To Jaehyun, it was more likely that you just didn’t see the fun in leaving people out. You were charming and passionate. Traits he wished he had. Your empathetic nature and gentle disposition were all that Jaehyun needed, even if he wasn’t the only recipient.

Once you guys started to hit puberty, things started to feel rocky. Jaehyun couldn’t help but physically distance himself from you, his ears were always red-hot. You had always been pretty to Jaehyun, but you were starting to become really beautiful. And if the boy’s locker rooms’ talk were anything to go by, then other people were definitely starting to realize “what a great catch” you were.

It really pissed him off. Who were they to say things as if all you were was a piece of meat? It disgusted him. But what disgusted him more was the fact that sometimes, he couldn’t help but also feel the way your body felt in his when you hugged in greeting. He hated the way his body reacted to everything you did.

He first messed around with a senior girl back when he was a sophomore, Sooyoung. She was leaving and he couldn’t take it anymore. Your boyfriend was a piece of trash and he was tired of hearing the way he would share what Jae considered to be intimate moments that had no business being public. But you seemed so happy… that next game, Jae stole the ball from him and scored on his own. Even if it cost him a three hour lecture from the coach, he would do it again. Fuck being a team, that guy was an asshole.

What he hadn’t planned on was liking messing around. He would never admit it, but the reason he couldn’t commit was because he couldn’t get rid of that small grain of hope that glowed in his chest every time you stared at him longer than would be deemed normal. It wasn’t often, but he knew he wasn’t seeing things. So, he succumbed to the cycle of push-and-pull that you guys had going on.

Jaehyun wasn’t blind, he knew that your work definitely spoke of your professionalism, but he’s also seen the way Nakamoto stared after you. Of the way his hand would often touch your waist when walking together. Even now, as he hears you apologize through the phone again as you get ready for your “date” with him he can’t help this heart feel heavy with anger. Anger at himself, for letting you slip away once more. He usually hopes for nothing but the best for you, but this time, he wishes you had an awful dinner.

Sorry I'm an anti-romantic, I don't believe in romance

I'm afraid that after burning my whole heart, It will only leave behind ashes

Throughout the entire dinner, you can’t seem to get Jae out of your mind. It keeps you from enjoying the delicious food, keeps you from keeping your usual banter with Nakamoto.

You’re about to call it a night and thank Nakamoto for inviting you out when he beats you to it, “damn, I was hoping this might be a good break from the usual overtime we do, but something tells me your mind has been elsewhere,” he offers good naturedly, “I know it’s valentine’s, so maybe this is why we feel so awkward, right?”.

You grimace a bit at that, “ah—I’m sorry. I really am grateful for the way you look after me in the company and I’m also thankful for this lovely dinner,” you stop a bit, afraid you might offend him, “I agreed to come out tonight, so no need to feel awkward.” You offer a smile.

“Alright then. I guess you already have your sights on someone?” he prods. Should you be honest? There was no rule against dating outside your department, and you were pretty sure your new boss’s wife also worked within the company. “…I do. But I’m pretty sure they don’t feel the same way. It’s been so long since we’ve known each other. Surely if something were to have happened, it would have by now.” You were loosening up, definitely the wine’s fault.

Nakamoto sighs at that, “damn, and here I thought I could woo you after this,” he winks jokingly but you laugh him off. You knew he didn’t care for you that way. “I really hope you’re talking about the guy you always eat lunch with. I swear everyone thought you guys were married when you were released from training.”

“What?! No, I—we’ve been friends since we were children—”

“Aha! So it was him then,” he smirks. “Good.”

You groan, “Please, no.”

“What, it’s not him? You sure about that?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny that statement,” you groan. Why were you discussing your love life? You push the wine away and take a sip of your water.

“Hmm. That’s too bad. Could have sworn that guy was after you.” He stands up. “But fine, I’ll stop prodding.”

You sigh in relief—“for now.” You groan. “What do you even mean by that? You don’t even know him. Or me, or at least personally at least.”

“Mmm, I don’t have to. Some things you just know. Like how he wishes I was six feet under every time we run across him at work,” he sobers up at that. “He seemed like a cool dude, but his glare isn’t too friendly. I don’t know how you fell for that.”

You scoff, “just because someone has a resting bitch face doesn’t mean they’re a bad person.”

You both make your way to the underground parking. “You’re right, it just makes them unapproachable. Is that why you won’t confess?” His genuine tone rubs you the wrong way, you don’t need be given false hope.

“Stop it, you said you would drop it,” you frown, “Anyways, thank you for the food boss—”

“—not your boss anymore. Just call me Yuta, we’re partners now.”

“Aren’t you two years older than me?”

“And?”

You shrug at that, “well, thanks Yuta. For the food, not for the interrogation.” He chuckles at that, nodding while pulling out his car keys. “see you Monday!” he waves you off.

You sigh as you get home. It wasn’t as late as you thought it was, only a few minutes past nine. You really wanted to see him. Would he be busy?

You fish out your phone and dial his number before chickening out.

“Hello?”

“Jae! It’s me. Are you busy right now?” your heartbeat is pounding so loud, you’re scared he could hear it on the other end. “Right now?” you hear shuffling on the other end, “no, I was just reading that book Jungwoo sent me. Might have dozed off a bit into it but don’t tell him I said that,” he chuckles.

“Why, is everything ok? It’s still early, did you end dinner that fast?”

“Oh, Yuta and I called it a night pretty early. Too many couples were out and about and it got a bit awkward,” you explained.

“Yuta?”

“Ah, yes. Yuta Nakamoto, but now that we’re associates, he said it would be better to address him less formally.” You waive him off, “actually, I was wondering—if it’s not too late, can I still come over? If not, that’s cool. We can still hang out tomorrow, but your birthday is today and I thought—”

He laughs at your rambles, “of course you can come over, you know you don’t have to ask. How many times have I told you that?”

“Ok, ok. Just checking,” you still had your comfy change of clothes in your car, so you opt to save those for tomorrow and change into something causal for tonight.

“Do you want me to go get you? We can get ice cream on the way, hopefully they don’t close early.”

“Sounds like a plan then,” curse your heart for melting at everything he says.

“Alright, give me 15 and I’ll be there.” He hangs up.

You look at your bag, resting on your sofa and you sigh. The entire night, it’s almost as if you could feel the weight of his gift weighing it down. Yuta is known for being very observant, it’s why he was so good at his job. Closing deals and making contracts in advertisement. Would he be right about this? You know you desperately wish he was, but is it worth risking your best friend?

EndNote | Woooow, that was a longass ride. Let me know if you liked it or if there are other typos I missed! Or just to let me know what you thought, that would be much appreciated. I'm thinking of finishing it by Sunday 6/13, so hopefully the next part is up by then. Until then!

Here's Part 2!

[secondhand-trash]

Friday I’m In Love

commissioned by @xaki

A/N: no, the fic has nothing to do with the song it just so happens that it fits in the most literal sense lmao much thanks to xaki who gave me my first commission and my friend for helping me out when my brain was going all sorts of illogical directions uwu

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x f!reader

Description: You saw Kuroo Tetsurou once every week, where you tried your best to not let the fact that he was your high school crush distract you too much.

Warning: unprotected sex, spanking, dirty talk, slight degradation

Word count: 5052

-

You saw Kuroo Tetsurou once every week, during the single Wednesday morning lecture you shared.

You had allowed yourself the luxury of stealing a few glances his way during that one occasion, but never do more than just looking from afar.

Actually, it was ironic that you had gotten to the point of limiting yourself from even looking at him when there was a time you would see him nearly every day.

Getting into the same high school was a pure coincidence, but you had also noticed early on that no matter where he was, your gaze was following his figure before you even realised it. Who could blame you, really. Who wouldn’t want to spare even just a few more seconds looking at the boy who was taller than the rest of his peers even in his first year, only growing more and more breathtaking as he ditched the boyishness and slowly gained the edge on his face and the hint of maturity in his eyes.

You were far from being the only one that harboured a bit of a schoolgirl crush on the eventual volleyball club captain. In the few years where you shared the same class, you had witnessed him being called out of the classroom by blushing pupils more times than you could count. It always brought a bitter taste to your mouth but what could you do about it? At least they had the guts to confess. 

You liked to believe that it was not a cowardly move for you to hide your affections all throughout your high school years. It was just that as early as you had noticed your budding feelings, you also realised that you two belong with two seperate groups of people with very different interests, and the chances that he would opt for you was slimmer than slim. So you never did much to try and win him over, maintaining a friendly distance where you only interact in class and nothing outside of it. 

At least it could be a nice memory to look back on when you were way past the age to be conflicted over things like this.

You were just as shocked as any other person when you learned that he did not go the pro-athlete route everyone thought he would go, nearly as shocked when you walked into your first lecture of the semester to see him sitting right at the very front.

He seemed to have noticed you too, giving you a slight nod after his eyes widened. You returned the polite gesture, before heading straight to the very back of the lecture hall without a hint of hesitation.

You could deal with one more semester of friendly distance. Couldn’t be that hard, right?

-

It was Wednesday morning again, and you sinked into the seat at the very back of the lecture hall you tactfully occupied with a yawn.

It was from pure bad luck that you managed to register the one 8:30 lecture available in the course. Everywhere around you, people were either half asleep or laid down on the table at the very least. From the corner of your eye, you even spotted someone catching up on the latest episodes of the new tv series that just aired with subtitles on.

You sighed, leaning your jaw on your palm. You wanted to say that this was a bit too much even for a lecture but who were you to judge when your soul was starting to escape your body to somewhere more interesting than the lecture hall anyway.

The amount of people who were actually paying attention to the lecture could probably be counted with one hand, let along the ones that seemed to be genuinely enjoying it. You thought to yourself, your glances floating to the boy who blocked even more of your view with his roaster head on top of his existing height.

He was probably the only one who still had the strength to chuckle when the lecturer tried to liven up the dying atmosphere with unfunny gags.

“...for the upcoming event, students who volunteered as committee members would receive bonus marks based on their performance,” you perked up at the distant call of ‘bonus score’ from far away, “the form will be placed by the door, Please fill in your name before you leave if you are interested.”

Your mind was occupied by numbers and calculations of your gpa for the rest of your class, even as you lined up mindlessly behind your other classmates after the lecture was dismissed. Another thing about morning lessons was that the amount of effort you were willing to put in was also diminished by the limits on your mind and soul, meaning that any chance at a higher grade was worth trying. You had decided that free labour in exchange for that good grade was a decent enough bargain.

“Hey.”

You snapped out of your trance when it was your turn at the form only to feel your heart skipping a beat when you looked up to see the familiar handsome face you stared at as your recharge every morning.

You blinked, trying hard to maintain a calm front even though your mind went haywired at the rare direct interaction you had with Kuroo.

“Do you need the pen?” he asked, holding out the thin ball pen he was gripping in his hand to you.

“Oh,” your eyes widened, putting on a polite smile as you took it from him, “oh yes. Um, thank you.”

It was only a while later when you put down your name right below his that it finally hit you that you two had signed up for the same event. It took even longer for you to realise that the strange tingle you felt at the back of your hand was from his fingertips brushing past yours as he let go of the pen, but by then he was gone and it would be a few days later when you saw him again.

-

You now see Kuroo Tetsurou two times every week. Once during the dreadful morning lecture on Wednesday and on Friday evening where you were stuck in the committee meeting together.

But unlike the stolen glances on Wednesday, you were forced to acknowledge Kuroo as more than just a distant being you were merely acquaintances with in those few hours.

It was very inconvenient for you, considering how each time you felt smaller and smaller under his concentrated gaze as he listened to your input on whatever topic of discussion it was. In fact, you felt rather resentful that you couldn’t quite stand as firm as you did on your stance that you wanted to keep what was clear to be a admiration from being known under your own free will instead of a lack of self-assurance.

You had no choice but to be reminded that he was smart and brilliant on top of just being good-looking. He always knew what to say when the rest of the room was stuck, moving the agenda forward with each valuable input. He was easy to work with, reliable and always efficient.You found that you genuinely liked working with him, crush or not. He listened intently to what other people had to say and never said anything less than constructive.

Worst of all, you were starting to have the illusion that he had started paying more attention to you too. When you looked around the room as you were about to speak up each time, you would always lock your eyes with him at some point, even before you started talking like he already anticipated that you would have something to say.

Maybe it was a mistake, you thought to yourself as you stared outside the pitch black windows of the bus that was rocking steadily, feeling your mind drifting away after using up all your energy in the meeting, maybe those few bonus marks were not worth all this inner conflict.

“Hi, um,” you looked to the side, your mind going blank like you just got caught doing something guilty when you saw the exact person you were thinking about standing by. You cursed the uncontrollable heat that raised on your face, “can I sit here?”

It wasn’t like you could say no. “Sure,” you said as you picked up your bag to clear out the seat for him, flashing a cordial smile of someone who did not have a reason to be nervous when you could already feel the beating in your chest speeding up, “of course.”

“Thanks,” he said with a relieved sigh, throwing himself on the empty chair with a soft thump. You tried to pretend that you did not secretly really care about how close he was to you now, looking back out of the window again. Kuroo looked at you, pondering if he should say something first.

“So…”

“Hm?” you turned around to face him at the dragged out note of his voice.

“Have you gone back to Nekoma after graduation?”

You sighed and gave a light shake of your head, "No. Just surviving college is hard enough, who has time to think about going back?”

You tried to dismiss the knot in your stomach when he replied with a light chuckle and the corner of your lips curling up against your will when he leaned back. “Makes sense," he said, running his hand through his unruly hair before swiftly carrying on to ask you about what you were up to now.

It would have been easier if it was awkward or uncomfortable but sadly, Kuroo was also very easy to talk to and by the time you regained your senses, you were already at the door of your apartment with him walking you there the whole way after getting off the bus at the same stop.

Next Friday, he came up to you with a grinning face when you packed up your stuff after the meeting. “We go the same direction, right?” he had said, walking next to you casually as you headed out the meeting room. He started the conversation before you could say anything, and like last time, he walked you back to your apartment, claiming that he lived nearby anyways.

You saw him twice every week. Once during the morning lecture that was starting to feel less painful to endure and the Friday committee meeting, where he naturally walked you home without fail each week. At some point, he started saving you the seat next to him before each meeting and there was less and less of a reason for you to not take it when he was already leaving with you anyways. All of the above had reminded you once again why you were so hellbent on staying away from him in the first place.

He was far too easy to like, even more so now that you were somewhat friends by the end of the series of meetings.

-

The voice of your instructor was distant as you stared at the clock, the sound of Kuroo’s pencil tapping against the table keeping you in touch with what was going on. It was the last meeting you had to attend and quite frankly there was nothing interesting going on at this point. You glanced to the side, before pulling out your phone that has been buzzing in your pocket since the meeting started.

You tried to conceal the irritation rising in your chest as you looked at the glowing screen underneath the table. Your old friends had been bombing you with questions ever since they learnt that after years of looking on, you somehow had a leaping development with your crush on accident after graduation. It was a mistake on your part, given how the topic of their heated discussion was sitting right next to you. 

“(y/l/n)?”

The sudden mention of your name startled you, and you threw your phone down almost a bit too hard. “Yes?”

“Can you help hand these out?”

You let out a relieved sigh that you were not being called out for not paying attention as you stood up, pushing the conversation that was no doubt still ongoing in your group chat to the back of your head. “Of course.”

Kuroo watched as you got out, taking the stack of minutes from the instructor. After today, he would go back to only seeing you when you walked into the morning lecture hall. He felt the nerves building in his stomach, wondering if he should bear his teeth and threw his shot in changing that.

‘So you’re just going to do nothing?’

The screen of your phone that was laying on the table lit up as the speech bubble appeared. His curiosity got the better of him when the next message popped in before he could look away.

‘You have liked Kuroo for years and you’re just going to let this chance slip?’

He froze in place when he read his own name. You liked him? His eyes flicked to you, his heart in his throat at the realisation that he had just learnt something he was not supposed to know. 

But despite the slight guilt of overstepping his boundaries, it took all the fiber in his body to stop himself from grinning ear to ear when you returned to your seat next to him.

“What?” you asked with an amused quirk of your eyebrows at how stiffly he was sitting.

“Nothing,” Kuroo replied, feeling the muscle around his mouth going sore as he bit the inside of his cheeks, “nothing.”

The ride home felt so much longer with him next to you, knowing that this was to be the last. He did not say anything even as you got off, only walking in silence like he was deep in thought. You wondered what it was that made him so quiet today, he was usually the more chatty one out of you two.

Kuroo felt the tension building up in his head as you got closer and closer to your door. 

“Can I tell you something?”

You snapped around, your hand on the handle of your doorknob when he suddenly spoke up for the first time since you left the meeting that day. “Yeah?”

“My place is at the opposite side of the neighbourhood.”

“What?” your voice came out as a whisper. Your breath hitch at the back of your throat when he took one step closer to you before leaning down. His face was right in front of yours, his defined features dangerously close to you.

“I said,” you could feel his breath fanning on your face as he spoke and the pounding in your ear was thundering as you held your breath, “I’m only here because I want to be around you.”

Kuroo watched intently as your eyes widened, your jaw clenching as you gulped. His gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, almost like he was waiting for you to show him any hint of rejection before he made the irreversible move. 

When your hand slowly crept onto his shoulder and stayed there, he latched onto you. You were taken back by his force, his tongue evading your mouth at your moment of lowered alert. His kiss was demanding, stealing away the oxygen in your lungs bit by bit as he held you close. 

You were panting when he pulled away after his initial outburst, your pupils dilated as your lips swollen up. You paused, before gathering the courage that had surged in your chest.

“Do you want to come in?”

Kuroo did not waste another second when the door clicked, his hand getting rougher now that you were within the privacy of your home. Your arms hung around his neck as you desperately held yourself up, your toes barely touching the floor as he demandingly kissed down the side of your neck. He lost patience at your struggling, lifting you up with his arm under your hips before pulling you down onto him with a stumbling step to the cramped couch.

“Help me strip.” He whispered in your ear, adjusting your position on his lap as he brought your hand to the opened collar of his shirt. You gulped when he gave an encouraging knead on your upper thigh, far too consumed by the want of seeing more of him to feel bashful by his bold request.

His gaze burned on your skin as he stared at you, not moving away even for a second while you tear apart the row of buttons to reveal more and more of his toned body. You felt like your fingers were not listening to your commands, a clumsy stiffness in your joints as he unhooked each button. The subconscious way you darted your tongue out to wet your lips at the rise and fall of his chest did not go unnoticed under his attentive stare, his much larger hands guiding you to palm his tend over the firm material of his jeans as your finger grazed past the cold metal of the zipper.

Kuroo’s stomach tensed up when you pulled down the fly, pushing your hips against his legs as you pushed away the heavy jeans. He held you down as he sat up, drinking in your soft moan with an open mouthed kiss. Your hand ran down from his shoulder to the firm pecs adoring his abdomen, each mound rippling under the tip of your fingers. His circled one arm around your waist while the other fumbled to pull his aching cock out of its refines. You felt the vibration of his chest as he groaned into your mouth when you allowed your hand to wander down his body, cupping his balls as he fisted his own length.

You let out a shaky sigh when he slid his palm down the elastic band of your panties, groping the soft flesh of your ass as he peeled off the thin piece of cotton with a push down the small of your back to have you arching for him.  He chuckled when he felt the wetness that was seeping through the fabric, earning a glare from you that looked more like a kitten pretending to be defensive out of embarrassment than truly threatening to him with your heated face and slightly swollen lips from his earlier nibbling when you pulled away. A thin strand of silver connected your lips, looking all the more erotic now that you were both half bare and exposed to each other’s hungry eyes.

Your finger dug into the muscle of his arms when he lifted you up from his lap with ease, much thanks to the firm grasp of your thighs in his warm palms. Your lips fell agape but no sound came out when you felt the hardness prodding at your entrance. He looked shamelessly at where your bodies met, not bothering to hide the grin on his face when he felt the pain of your nails against his arm as he brushed his tip along your slit. You whined at the friction that was barely there, not able to sink down with him holding you back but your legs were starting to go weak with each push of his length against your clit. He took his time, spreading the leaking pre-cum across your folds and watching the mixture of your arousal slowly coated his cock.

“Kuroo…” you called out for him, hoping that it would be enough for him to give you what you wanted.

“Aw... What’s with this formality?” his arm flexed under your touch as he tilted his head to the side, lowering you down just a little, “What should you call me when I’m about to fuck your brains out, hm?”

You bite onto the inside of your cheeks when you felt him barely dipping in, his tip just positioned at your pussy.

“Tetsurou-” 

his own name felt foreign as it rolled off the tip of your tongue and he let out an approving hum. “Good girl,” he purred, placing a chaste kiss on your trembling lips. 

His grip on your legs tightened as he leaned closer to you, pushing his cock just a little deeper. Your brows locked together as he stretched out your entrance, clawing at his arm for more. You thought he was finally going to show some mercy on you, but the beating in your heart skipped a beat when you felt his hot breath fanning across your lips instead.

“You’re in love with me, aren’t you?”

Your eyes snapped open, his handsome face right in front of yours. “Wha- mph!”

You yelped at the sudden drop of your hips onto his lap, your nails scratching down his arm as he hilted inside of you with one motion. Your head threw back at the waves of shocking pleasure that sparked down your spine, your juicings running down the base of your thighs as your walls tried to accustomed to his thickness and length.

“What is it? Did you just say yes?” his laugh was wolfish as he took in your expression, a mixture of infuriated and primal desire.

“You-” he did not give you the time to bite back, thrusting up with a lift of your hips and turning whatever you wanted to say into nothing but incoherent moans.

Your body did not feel like it was under your control as he guided you to grind on his cock, the slaps of your soft flesh against his thighs taking over your senses. Your toes curled at how deep he could reach inside you each time he pulled you up and bottomed out of you. His hands were fondling your ass roughly as he bounced you on his cock, reducing you to nothing but a panting mess laying weakly on his chest.

“How does it feel to have the man of your dreams stretching out your tight cunt, hm?” he emphasised each word with a thrust, grinning ear to ear when you made a frugal attempt at slapping his arm you were holding onto. You buried your face into his chest, your muffled moans coming out as hot breath on his skin. He looked down from above you, watching as your ass jiggled under each thrust and your spine arching from the pleasure. 

A loud smack echoed in the room and he groaned at the feeling of your walls clenching around him at the slap of his palm against your ass cheek. He gave the flesh a firm knead, rubbing at the area that had heated up from the spank before pulling his hand away to give the other side the same treatment. You felt the numbness on your skin as your skin burned, the pain making every hair on your back stood up. 

“You like it when I get rough with you? You are squeezing down on my cock so hard,” his voice came as gravel from his chest. Your mind was in a frenzy, not even thinking straight as you nodded feverishly. “You’re such a slut for me, it’s really inflating my ego,” his filthy words made your stomach tighten as he continued, “bet this is what you have been thinking about whenever you check me out.”

You felt your face burning up. He knew all along?

Your surprise came out in the form of a squeal when he stood up, still holding you up. Your panting got more rapid as your only leverage from falling was the frantic clawing at his arm, having nothing but his strength to trust as he bounced you on his cock while marching down the hallway.

He hissed at the sharp pain on his back when your hands scratched down, kicking the door open with a hasty shove at the door with his heel before throwing you down the mattress. He did not waste another second as he perched on top of you, hooking your legs around his waist before rolling his hips to completely take over the pace of his cock pistoning at the spongy spot that made your mind foggy with nothing but his name and the overwhelming feeling of being towered over in your head.

The squelching got louder and louder as he ruthlessly snapped against you. You felt the knot in your stomach tightened up as he leaned down, sucking on the sweet spot at the side of your neck. His hand roamed all over your body, kneading your tits that bounced under his force. 

He could not get over the fact that you were actually here, folded beneath him right now, and that it was his name you were moaning out. 

“I’m-” your legs clasped around him as every muscle on your limbs tensed up, “I’m close-”

“Yeah? Tell me what you want,” he growled in your ear, his thrusts starting to get sloppy as your walls spasmed around his cock, “what does my girl want?”

You had imagined what it would be like if Kuroo Tetsurou ever set his eyes on you, if he had wanted you the same way you had absentmindedly started wanting him despite your best efforts to convince yourself that you knew that would not happen. But nothing could stop the heat that exploded in your chest and spread all through your body at how natural it came out of his mouth.

His girl. You were his girl now.

You let out a choked mewl when he switched from erratic plowing to slowly dragging his cock along your walls. The sudden drop from your near high seeped into your senses, tingling down from your core all the way to the tip of your toes. 

“Tetsu-” your back arched off the mattress when he pulled out all the way only to halt in you with a sudden thrust, “want you to make me cum- ah!”

The shocks that sparked through your body when he set his sight on making you fall apart underneath him with his vigorous thrusts had your toe pointing stiffly and curling under the pleasure. The fist in the pit of your stomach curled and unfolded as he gripped your chin roughly, turning your head to look right into his eyes.

“Fuck, you wanna cum?” he hissed, feeling the shivers on his own back as he got closer and closer to his own high, “Then look at me, look at me as you cum on my cock-”

You felt your body shuddering as waves of pleasure crashed over you. His eyes were all you could focus on as you succumbed to the weakening of your limbs, the pounding in your ear gradually returned to a regular pace with Kuroo’s languish strokes allowing you to ride out your high. 

You were sure you could never forget how the defined arch of his brows knitted together as he pulled out of you, his head throwing back just a little with his lips slightly parted. A sinful moan leaking out as spurts of white painted across your lower stomach. 

Your vision was hazed over with a veil of fog as you blinked, collecting your breaths before focusing on the roof of your room that suddenly felt so unfamiliar. The claminess on your skin and the smell of sweat slowly took over. You felt the weight on your chest, breathing out a heavy exhale.

You really did just have sex with your crush, huh?

As if noticing your train of thought, Kuroo leaned over and placed a quick kiss on your jaw, his grin reaching his eyes as he stared at you. Much unlike his earlier dominance, the lazy curl of each syllable on his lips sounded more so like he was trying to play cute.

"Wait here,” he said, adding another peck on your lips, “I’ll grab you a towel.”

“The bathroom is the one right outside…” you muttered, feeling the dent on the mattress sprung back as he climbed off of you.

Your tensed muscles slowly relaxed as he moved you to lean against his broad chest, his hand gently caressing your skin as he dabbed the wet towel on you. His lips ghosted along your ear as he cleaned up the marks and trails left from your earlier passions, trying hard to conceal his satisfaction when you whined as he brushed past the bruises on your thighs.

“You should start getting used to it from now on, plenty more chances for us to- ouch, ouch.. ok, I’m sorry…”

The corner of your lips lifted up, burying your face into his chest as you tried to get comfortable, “I was right, you are way more attractive without opening your mouth.”

“Awe, don’t say that,” he pouted but the wolfish grin on his face told you he was not apologetic at all.

Kuroo watched as you slowly leaned onto him more and more, until your eyelids closed up with a flutter. If you had stayed awake for just a little longer, you would know that he could not be any more careful when he tucked you under the blanket before slipping in next to you. On this rare occasion where he would not get caught, he allowed himself to stare at your serene expression as he dozed off to sleep with a content smile on his face.

You did not need to know that his grade for the one course you shared was high enough already and he signed up for the committee purely because you were signing up too. He certainly would not let you know that he had always noticed your lingering gaze on him or that he secretly enjoyed it, even back when he saw you more than twice a week. That and the fact that he was overjoyed when he saw you appearing from the door of the lecture hall that Wednesday morning, followed by the ever growing frustration that he couldn’t find an excuse to talk to you when you were literally in the same class.

Whatever. Kuroo thought to himself as he gently threw his arm over your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he inhaled your sweet scent. At least he didn’t have to go all the way from your apartment complex back to his place every Friday anymore.

[stargaze-sunflower]

Lena and Louie hanging out. They hive me a lot of haos sibilings vibes

“Okay, hear me out,” Louie said, leaning forward from where he was sitting crossed legged on a rock, looking up at Lena with mischievous eyes. “For no particular reason – just, you know, theoretically – would you be able to like, summon gold? With your magic.”

Lena let out a laugh that was more just a huff of air, turning to give him a deadpan look, pointedly gesturing behind her.

“We’re kinda supposed to be on lookout duty here, Green,” Lena said dryly, staring down at her best friend’s brother, who was making no actual effort to cover up that he didn’t want to be there. “But theoretically, no. I can’t.”

She turned back to look down at the sprawling field of waist-high grass that was spread out below where they stood, on a cliff overlooking the valley where the rest of the McDuck clan was currently getting into who knew what kinds of trouble. The others had gone into a cave opposite where Lena and Louie were standing about an hour ago, and Louie had long since given up keeping watch in favor of sitting and asking the occasional odd question. He couldn’t quite hide his anxiety about the well-being of his family, no matter much he pretended to be perfectly relaxed.

“Have you ever tried?” Louie asked, letting his chin fall into his hand as he lazily swept his eyes across the field below.

“I’ve had a lot going on in my life, and making gold out of thin air was never on my list of priorities,” Lena said, finally giving in to exhaustion and boredom as she sat on the ground, her back against a tree. “And I don’t need to try it to know it’s impossible. You can’t make something from nothing.”

“But you can make nothing from something?”

“I dunno,” Lena said, shrugging. “I think that’s just called ‘destroying things’.”

Louie just hummed in response to that, and they fell back into a temporary silence as they looked out at the landscape. The only reason they even needed a look out on this adventure was because there were rumors of a large group of bandits in the area, and Scrooge hadn’t wanted to get stuck in the caves with them. Once it became clear that someone would have to stay behind to keep an eye on things, Louie had immediately volunteered, and somehow Lena had ended up there as well.

Sighing, she turned away from the field and rested her head on her knees, rolling her eyes when Louie raised an eyebrow.

“Even I get tired of staring at nothing after a while,” Lena explained flatly.

“Especially since you can’t make something out of it,” Louie said, something teasing in his voice, and Lena cracked a smile.

“It’s your turn to be lookout anyway,” she said. “I’m on break.”

Louie snorted, glancing down at the valley before looking back at her with a mischievous grin. “I don’t listen to people who can’t make it rain gold from the sky.”

“Gold is heavy, y’know. You’d probably end up with a concussion.”

“And it would be worth it.”

Lena laughed.

“Have you actually had a concussion before?” she asked, partially curious and partially looking for a distraction from being bored out of her mind.

“More times than I’m comfortable with, honestly,” Louie said, huffing in irritation. “To be clear, I’d rather the number was zero, but that’s impossible with this family.”

“Yeah, I can’t say I’m surprised,” Lena said, hoping that she’d never have the misfortune of getting hit in the head that hard. “Your family combined has got to have had enough concussions to scare a doctor into retiring.”

“Dewey’s definitely winning,” Louie said offhandedly, obviously exasperated and concerned. “He’s proud of it, too.”

“The fact that any of you are still alive is a miracle.”

“We’re McDucks.” Louie shrugged, not quite able to hide the furrow between his brow or the tired anxiety in his eyes. “We make our living on miracles, no matter what Uncle Scrooge says about hard work.”

Lena didn’t really know what to say to that, so she just gave a comforting sort of smile and said, “I guess you really don’t listen to anyone who can’t make it rain gold.”

“Uncle Scrooge comes the closest, but he refuses to do it,” Louie said, the heaviness gone from his voice as if it had never been there. Lena knew a thing or two about dwelling on things that wouldn’t change, and figured that Louie had learned the same things that she had. Both of them were well-versed in pushing away their feelings, it seemed. Both of them practiced at making nothing out of something.

“Well, if I ever figure out how to do it,” Lena said, letting her voice get a bit softer, “you’ll be the first to know.”

Louie rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“I’m sure you will.”

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, staring out at the field below and sighing every now and then as they debated at what point they should start a search and rescue operation.

Eventually, they saw the distant figures of their family making their way out of the cave, waving at them excitedly. The issue was that the bandits had decided to make an appearance shortly after, riding in on horses and quickly surrounding the recently returned adventurers. Atop the cliff, Louie sighed, and Lena was inclined to agree.

“They really have the worst timing,” Louie said. “What are we supposed to do?”

Before either of them could come with a plan of action, Louie’s phone pinged in his pocket, and he took it out to look at it, raising an eyebrow immediately after.

“What is it?” Lena asked, torn between watching Louie and watching the chaos beneath them.

“Dewey texted me,” Louie said, a mixture of fondness and exhaustion tangling into his voice. “He wants us to cause a distraction.”

“What? Why?”

“Only he knows, I guess.”

“Okay, well, what are we supposed to do? Yell?”

“Dewey can yell louder than both of us combined. I don’t know how much that would help.”

“True enough.”

They looked around the surrounding area for a moment, casting about for anything that they could use. Louie was the one who saw it.

“Hey, Lena?” Louie asked, and Lena hummed in response, glancing over at him. “You see that cliff over there?”

She followed his line of sight until she saw it, and her brow furrowed in slight confusion. “Yeah?”

Louie turned back to her with a slow smile growing on his face. She narrowed her eyes.

“It seems pretty unstable to me,” he said, and Lena’s eyes widened.

“You’re kidding,” she said.

“Nope.”

“You’re out of your mind.”

“Probably.”

“…Let’s do it.”

Louie grinned.

The resulting landslide was as much of a distraction as it was destruction, and Dewey made sure to tell them exactly how cool he thought it had been, even as he was in bed recovering from his latest concussion.

[yuta-nakamots]

crush - n.jm

Pairing - Jaemin x Reader

Genre - High School!AU, Fluff, Angst

Warnings - None (if you feel that I should add a warning please lmk)

Summary - Na Jaemin was the boy who had protected you from bullies, let you copy his homework, shared his snacks with you, and practically doted on you like a mother. It would only make sense for you to develop a crush on him though not all loves are meant to last, especially when your overbearing feelings crush themselves.

Word Count - 5.3k

A/N - Bolded phrases are song lyrics taken from Crush by Tessa Violet.

Taglist - @ukiyoneo​ @badwithten @yasmini24 @luvlyjaemin​ @jimjamjaemin​ @loeygotospacenow

Written for the Summertime Tunes Collab hosted by @mismatchmark​ and @croissanct​. Also part of the NeoWinter Festival hosted by @czennienet​.

Song: Crush by Tessa Violet. Color - Pink.

“I swear the answer for the last question was the Mandela effect,” you exclaimed, “you know, the one where you think you remember something but it’s totally different?”

Jaemin’s infectious laugh filled the interior of the car. “No no no, I think you’re mistaken,” he wagged a finger at you without taking his eyes off the road, “the question wasn’t asking about the memory of an individual, it was asking about the memory of a group, like a large mass of witnesses to a crime.”

A cold wave of despair hit you when you realized that you utterly screwed up on the largest question on your first exam of senior year. It was such an easy question yet you carelessly answered it, just wanting to go home as soon as the bell rang. That and getting to be with Jaemin, whom you’ve been crushing on since sophomore year.

You and Jaemin actually hadn’t become friends on your own terms. The two of you first met as freshmen and had to work on a group project in history together and that’s when you got his number. You didn’t talk to him for the rest of the year though. Then in sophomore year, again, you had the luck of being with him for a project, though this time it was just the two of you and it was for chemistry instead.

“Ooh, let’s do an experiment with salt,” Jaemin suggested as you gave him a questioning look, “it’s part of my nickname.”

“What? Salt? People call you salt?” You were utterly at a loss for words.

He shook his head, “no, didn’t you know? My nickname is Nana, from Na Jaemin...like N-A? Salt? Get it?”

You let out a slight wheeze when you understood what he was getting at. “Yeah, okay, we can do one with salt as long as it’s not too complicated.”

He had chosen to do an experiment on finding what method of food preservation kept produce fresh the longest, and salt was one of them. Your classmates ended up choosing your project as the most creative since they were all amused by the way Jaemin had placed pictures of himself around the section of the presentation board relating to the effectiveness of the salt treatment.

Ever since then, whenever there was a project in any of the classes you shared with Jaemin, he’d always gravitate towards you and ask you to be his partner. Eventually, after being assigned a large physics project, the two of you were deciding whose house to do the experiment at, and after sharing addresses, both of you realized that you lived only two blocks away from each other.

Just to keep things safe, it was agreed that the experiment would be done at Jaemin’s house under the supervision of his older brother who majored in something in the science field and volunteered to look after you guys and make sure no one died. The walks to his house weren’t awkward, in fact, they were quite fun and interesting considering how talkative Jaemin was. Even after your project was completed, he’d continue walking with you since your house was on the way to his.

In junior year, the two of you drifted apart as you both found your own friend groups and started hanging out with them more but in senior year, Jaemin pulled you both back together when he called you in the morning to ask if you’d like a ride to school.

“I mean, yeah sure I guess.” You had responded as you finished packing your bag. What you expected was for him to pull up in the passenger seat of his brother’s black car, the loud J-Rock music vibrating the frame of it. What you didn’t expect was for Jaemin to be the one driving the car, his older brother nowhere in sight. “Y-you can drive?!”

“Yeah, got my license over summer.” He replied nonchalantly, taking a bite of a small sandwich wrapped in Starbucks napkins. “My brother graduated early and went to Japan for grad school so he said I can use his car once I get licensed. Pretty cool, right?”

When you finally looked at him after getting into the passenger seat, you realized just how much he was starting to change. You had noticed his voice getting lower and the way his shoulders seemed to be broader but now even his face seemed to be slightly sharper and more mature. “Hey, answer me,” he said, interrupting your trance, “just because my brother’s gone doesn’t mean you can give me those sad eyes because you had a crush on him and didn’t get the chance to tell him.”

“I do not have a crush on your brother,” you began as Jaemin drove you to school, “that’s so gross, he’s like a whole five years older than me.”

“Mmhmm, I literally heard you tell June that you liked him.”

“I didn’t, I swear.” The truth is, the day he had heard you, you were telling your friend June about your crush on Jaemin before your shared trigonometry class and he had just so happened to come into the classroom early that day and overheard the tail end of it where his name was mentioned. June had covered it up by saying that you had a crush on his older brother, which you went along with since you didn’t want Jaemin to know that it was actually him that you were talking about. Hopefully one day you’d get to tell him this story and laugh about how childish you were, but for now, you kept to yourself.

From that day on, Jaemin made sure to take you to school and back once the day was over, insisting that it only makes sense since your houses are so close to each other. It’s not like you were really complaining though because it meant more time for you to be with him.

A week before homecoming, Jaemin came to pick you up in the morning as usual, his car slick from the morning dew that was on the roads. He waved at you as you came down your driveway, unlocking the door for you. “How’s my princess doing on this fine morning?” He asks once you open the door and place your bag inside.

“Tired.” You state plainly. “Nearly slept through my alarm.”

“Would you like some coffee?” He looks down at his coffee that blends in with the black coloring of the console and seats. You make a face of disgust at him, scrunching up your nose and mocking the action of vomiting. “Alright, okay, I get it.” He laughs out as you buckle yourself in.

After you were comfortably seated in Jaemin’s car, there was a calming silence as he pulled away from the curb and navigated his way out of your neighborhood. The silence was only broken when he stopped under a fresh red light, prepared to wait for a bit. “So the homecoming dance is coming up,” you let out a short hum to acknowledge him while scrolling through social media, “do you have someone that you’re planning on going with?”

You shook your head, “I have someone in mind but I don’t know if they’d want to go with me.”

“Oh, who is it?” Jaemin asks as the light turns green, signaling for him to make the pass through the intersection.

“It’s you.” Turning to look at him, you see his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pursed together. “Would you like to go with me to the homecoming dance?” The mere seconds it took him to respond to your question felt like hours but you didn’t mind, not when he looked so handsome and relaxed in the driver’s seat, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the center console.

You make it difficult to not overthink

His hesitation was evident but eventually, he replied, “sure, I’ll go with you.”

The dress you wore was a pretty shade of pink, one that complemented your skin tone nicely and Jaemin wore a matching pink button-down shirt paired with black ripped jeans which you were sure he stole from his brother’s closet. Your friends nicely complimented your outfits and asked when the two of you would be official, at which both of you replied “it’s not like that” or “I don’t like them that way” or some other variation of it.

June looked at you knowingly from the other side of the table every time that happened, knowing how badly you hoped for his words to be only a front he was putting up and that maybe, just maybe, he thought of you as more than a friend. But the little hope you had was put to rest when Yunhee, one of the girls from his friend group, came by and pulled him away, telling him that Jeno, his best friend, wanted to take group pictures together.

Jaemin didn’t return to the table until the winner of the homecoming spirit trophy was about to be announced. He shared a look of excitement with you as both of you did a drumroll on the table before Haechan, the student body president yelled out, “the seniors, class of 2018, are the winners of this year’s homecoming spirit trophy!” Jaemin jumped out of his seat and hugged you out of joy before running off to celebrate with the rest of his friends at their table.

Again, he did not return until the lights were dimmed and the music volume was raised. “Would you like to dance, m’lady?” He asked as he held his hand out for you to take. The rest of your friends let out giggles at the gesture and cooed when you placed your hand in his and followed him to the dance floor.

He let go of your hand as the two of you faced each other and started moving to the beat of ‘Let’s Fall in Love for the Night’ while mouthing the words to each other. With every line mouthed, you felt your heart swell for Jaemin because it was as if this song were written for the two of you.

“You look absolutely beautiful tonight.” He told you as the song slowed down.

“I can say the same for you too.” Your eyes met him as you smiled at him.

His smile mirrored yours with the same playful affection. “Then why don’t you?”

You weren’t even given the chance to do so when Yunhee appeared once again, placing a hand on his shoulder and turning him in the direction of where the other nominees for homecoming court were gathering. “They’re announcing the winners, come on,” she informed him as she began pulling him away, “you look good tonight though, you too, y/n, I guess.”

Yunhee had always been playing some sick passive-aggressive game with you and you never understood why. Jaemin encouraged you to just brush it off every time it happened, but you simply couldn’t, not when it has continued for three years now. You were about to open your mouth and say something back to her but you held yourself back, not wanting to sour the mood for everyone else.

Without Jaemin dancing with you and not knowing if the rest of your friends were on the dance floor, you returned to your table just as Haechan stepped out to announce the winners of the homecoming court. June came to sit next to you, occupying Jaemin’s seat as you laughed at the way her makeup was slightly smudged from when she accidentally rubbed her eye. “I’m glad I can still make you laugh.” She said as she gave you a sad smile, already having you like an open book.

The two of you became engrossed in a conversation about how hard it was to do your hair and makeup earlier, effectively drowning out the naming and cheers for the winners of the court until one name was able to make your heart stop. “Na Jaemin.” You turned around in your seat to see as Jaemin was crowned homecoming king and went to stand alongside Yunhee, who smiled at him as she donned a similar crown, making her his queen.

June took you home that night, leaving behind her own date for you as you struggled to hold back your tears, seeing Jaemin dance with another girl. “It’s just for homecoming, he probably doesn’t even like her that much.” June reassured while rubbing your back. You wanted so badly to believe her but there was just something inside you that wouldn’t allow you to do so.

Homecoming passed quickly, though not quickly enough for your liking, and as much as you were glad to put some distance between that night, you weren’t as glad to be swamped with work again. You were supposed to be thinking about how Pavlov experimented with classical conditioning yet you were the one feeling classically conditioned to think about Jaemin.

He occupied your mind whenever you weren’t extremely focused on something. Everything you thought about brought you back to him. Even now, you debated on whether it would be a good idea or not to classically train him to like you.

I can’t focus on what needs to get done

Your phone buzzed from its spot on your desk, plucking you from your experimental daydream, only to send you on a rollercoaster as you read the notification on your screen.

nana > y/n

7:31pm: wanna go get food with me?

y/n > nana

7:31pm: right now?

nana > y/n

7:31pm: yeah

y/n > nana

7:31pm: sure, i’ll be ready in a bit

nana > y/n

7:32pm: thank god cuz i’m outside already

You figured your psychology notes could wait for a bit, especially when the reason was Jaemin. With finals coming up soon and the impending doom of graduation and college, you wanted to make the most of every moment you had with him, even if it was nights spent getting McDonald’s and eating it at an elementary school playground, seated side by side at the top of the slide while looking at the stars.

“I wonder why people say ‘shooting stars’ and ‘falling like the stars’ because they can’t do both, right?” Jaemin pondered through a mouthful of french fries.

“Stars don’t fall, silly.” You remarked, truly questioning how he had such good grades in his classes yet didn’t seem to know such trivial things.

He continued staring up at the night sky before responding. “Well if they did, I think I’d be one of them.”

You looked at him, entertaining his wonderings while sipping some Sprite. “Oh? Now, why is that?”

“Because I think I’ve fallen for you.”

Your mouth opened ever so slightly out of shock and you felt as if you were frozen when he took the drink out of your hands, placing it gently behind the two of you before putting a hand on your jaw, holding your steady as he gave you your first kiss.

When he pulled away, you were still having trouble processing what just happened and left him hanging, but in a few seconds you had one hand on his shoulder, the other on his cheek as you pulled him in to kiss him for real this time. Jaemin let out a noise of surprise though he quickly recovered and his lips began moving with the shape of yours.

You immediately felt insecure from how confident he seemed, thinking that he probably already had prior experience, so you pulled away, not wanting to embarrass yourself if he thought you were a bad kisser. Both of you pulled away, slightly out of breath.

“Was I your first kiss?” He asked. You nodded in response, looking anywhere but at him. “Good, because you were mine.” Your eyebrows raised in shock and you turned to him, only for his lips to meet yours once again.

And I’m just tryna play it cool now

The two of you stayed at the playground for what could have easily been another hour talking about your futures and kissing each other. It was then that the two of you found a common college on both of your lists of possible schools and agreed to go there if both of you got in. When Jaemin dropped you off later that night, he sent you off with one last kiss and a smile, reminding you to study for your psychology final next week.

The in-class reviews for the said exam could’ve easily been thrown out the window for you since all you did was stare at Jaemin from the other side of the room. June asked you and your friends something about mental maps but the only mental map you were creating was that of the house you’d live in with Jaemin someday.

But I could be your crush...throw you for a rush

Even during the final exam itself, you couldn’t help but glance over at him and think about how handsome he was. It was only when one of your friends sneezed and Jaemin looked over to say ‘bless you’ that you averted your eyes back to the papers in front of you, not wanting him to catch you in your daydreams.

And I’m pretending you ain’t on my mind

But with the wrapping up of your classes and all the finals being taken, it also signaled the end of the semester and the start of winter break, which Jaemin would be spending in Japan visiting his older brother. When he left, it felt like he took a piece of you with him. He was always on your mind and you practically glued to your phone, anxiously waiting for a message from him. To be fair, he did promise to update you at least once a day on all the fun things he did.

Hoping you’d text me

You were the first like and comment on all of his social media updates, unashamedly. The most recent being a video of him and his older brother having a snowball fight at the ski resort they were visiting.

In the video, Jaemin threw a snowball at his brother who let out a yell in surprise, his dyed-blue hair now covered in white. “Hey! Come back here!” He yelled as he knelt to the ground, gathering his own snowball to throw back at Jaemin.

Jaemin ran away to a small stack of snowballs, giggling as he grabbed another one and launched it again at his brother, only angering him further. “How about you respect your elders, huh?” His brother shouted as he threw his first snowball at Jaemin, which would’ve hit him square in the face if he didn’t turn around as fast as he did.

“No headshots, you bully!” He pouted, rubbing the spot the snowball hit, just to be hit twice more by his brother. “Hey, I’m injured!”

“Now you know how I feel playing PUBG with you, kid.” His brother shot back.

na.jaemin0813 - he put up a good fight but i think i won

ynn0018 - you definitely did. I miss you tho :’( come home soon pls

You checked the post again when he replied to your comment and read through some of the other comments, feeling jealous when you see that he also replied to the other girls who left messages though you quickly eased yourself when you say that he gave you the longest response with the most emojis.

na.jaemin0813 > ynn0018 - i miss you too 😘😘 i’ll be back sooner than you know it <3

Jaemin stayed true to his word, texting you every day, and making sure you weren’t too bored without him. He filmed his own short little vlogs and sent them to you throughout the day and did a longer video at the end of the day as he got ready for bed. You’d watch them whenever you got bored or thought of him and the days didn’t seem all that long without him physically there with you.

When Jaemin returned from Japan and the break ended, the two of you were the closest you’ve ever been. You did nearly everything together like eating lunch, studying for tests, even facetiming each other while doing homework though neither of you really spoke much.

Thanks to Jaemin being so overprepared and not wanting to live in his brother’s shadows, his early application to colleges motivated you to do the same and within the first month of the year, both of you had acceptance letters to the school where you could chase your dreams together and not have to risk doing a long-distance relationship. If fate and soulmates truly existed, you knew this would be it.

The third quarter of the school year goes by quickly, the rest of your friends receiving their acceptance letters after you and slowly announcing their future schools and plans after graduation. Things felt like they were falling into place, just the way they should be and you thought you could never be happier.

During spring break, you and Jaemin even took your senior portraits together at the local botanical garden, the sunset behind the flowers turning the sky a fiery shade of pink. “I want to see more of these sunsets with you,” Jaemin admits after you both decide you’re satisfied with how the pictures came out, “Japan has these same types of sunsets and I wish you were there to see them with me.”

“Let’s go then,” you tell him, excited as you imagine the sight of you and him traveling the world and watching many more beautiful sunsets, “after we graduate, let’s go to Japan, just the two of us. We can visit your brother too and he can even be our tour guide.”

You’re my permanent vacation

From then on, both of you vowed to ‘grow up’ a little more to show your parents that you could be trusted to travel on your own. One of the biggest things you set out to do was to get your license, which of course Jaemin is initially against but eventually comes to terms with and becomes your biggest supporter, letting your drive the two of you to school and home on days when traffic wasn’t too heavy. Of course, you couldn’t get your license in just a few months but you told yourself you’d get it as soon as you were able to.

At school, prom was drawing nearer which meant promposals were happening left and right. Jaemin hadn’t said anything about going to prom together yet or if he was going at all so you thought it would be nice to turn the tables and do something nice for him since he was the one always driving you places, buying you food, giving you gifts, and just, in general, being the best ‘boyfriend’ you could ask for.

You told June about your plans but she surprisingly warned you against it. “Wait, why shouldn’t I do this? I thought you wanted me to get with Jaemin?” You question, taken aback at how quickly your best friend seemed to have turned on you.

“I do, but I think maybe you should wait a bit.” She reasoned.

“He hasn’t said anything yet though, or even mentioned the word ‘prom’ to me, so I don’t think he’s planning on going.”

“He must have a reason, like what if he doesn’t-”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m trying to get him to go. Because if I ask him, then for sure he’ll say yes, right?” You interrupt.

June pauses. “Well, yeah, he’d probably say yes, but like, keep in mind that you guys aren’t even official so there’s no guarantee.”

You roll your eyes at her. “Whatever. I thought you were supposed to be my best friend and support me no matter what.”

“Y/n, no, that’s not what I meant-”

“Save it, I don’t want to hear it.”

You stuck your ground and went home that day, ready to think up a cheesy pick-up line and design a poster asking Jaemin to prom. The day after that, you put the first part of your plan into motion and created the poster, drawing out your message in big, bold lettering and coloring them pink.

‘If I were a star, I’d be a falling star because I’ve fallen for you. Prom?’

You waited until Thursday to buy a bouquet of flowers after school, telling Jaemin that you needed to pick something up from the store and he could just drop you off there. You also told him that your parents were cool with letting you drive one of their cars so you didn’t need a ride to school on Friday morning. The second of which was harder to convince him of, but you did it nonetheless.

And I’m not tryna be with you now

You came to school, rushing to store the flowers and poster in your locker so that Jaemin doesn’t see them. The adrenaline doesn’t leave your body until after the first period ends, your mind already overwhelmed from being a TA and having to deal with freshmen for an hour.

When you arrive at your psychology class, you excitedly tell June about your plans for the day and how you were going to ask Jaemin to prom after school gets out, which she makes a face at. “Okay, now tell me, what is going on with you and your aversion to me asking Jaemin to prom?”

“Look, I’m not against it,” she began, her eyes drifting off to somewhere else, “it’s just that…”

“What, June, what could it possibly be?” You spit, getting angry at how your own best friend didn’t want to see you happy.

Her eyes snapped back to your face. “You know what? If you’re so intent on doing it, fine. I won’t stop you. I told you that I support you and Jaemin together so I don’t get why you’re so upset.”

Just as you were about to fire back, Jaemin walked through the door with Jeno so you quickly changed your expression to smile at him before muttering to June “I’m going to ask him to prom and prove that whatever you’re hiding from me is wrong.”

The next two periods seemed to drag by, you just wanted the day to go faster so you could finally do what you’ve been waiting for. During lunch you went to your usual spot, shaded underneath a tree by the cafeteria, pulling out your homework as you wait for Jaemin when you suddenly hear a commotion happening on the other side of the building.

Out of curiosity, you stood up and walked over just enough to get a glimpse of what was happening in the large ring of students. There were two people. Jaemin and Yunhee. You watched as Jaemin held open his own poster asking Yunhee to prom and you see her nod her head before pulling him in for a hug.

Any hope you previously had was crushed.

You didn’t feel like doing anything productive for the rest of the day. Instead of staying under the protection of the large tree, you packed up your belongings and went to your last class of the day, waiting for lunch to end. It was a study hall anyway so you figured you might as well get a head start at being unproductive for an hour.

Scrolling through social media didn’t help your cause in the slightest. Jaemin’s promposal was everywhere. But he and Yunhee posted about it, everyone who had recorded the event posted it on their stories, comments were flying left and right and it was all too much.

When you got home that day, you turned off your phone for the first time since god knows when and set to working on all your assignments just to keep your mind off of him. Even the mention of his name seemed taboo now. Once you deemed that enough schoolwork had been done, you went about cleaning your room and pulled up a ‘summertime tunes’ playlist on youtube to keep your mind occupied though it seemed like the world was against you today when ‘Crush’ started playing.

Maybe if I’m busy it could keep me from you

You shut Jaemin out of your life, blocking his number and his social media accounts. Legally, you could not get your license yet so you settled for having your parents take you to school. In class you sat as far away from him as possible and ditched your lunch spot, instead opting to spend lunch sitting in your next class and you were glad that your teachers didn’t mind you intruding on their break and if they did, they were kind enough to allow you to stay.

Exactly one month after that mistake of a day, you went to prom with your group of friends after patching up your relationship with June, though there was no undoing your harsh words the same way there was no undoing your purchase of the pink prom dress thinking that you’d be going with Jaemin as your date.

Whenever you looked down, you were disgusted by the color, wanting to rip it off of you and never have anything to do with anything pink ever again. Your friends accused you of being a downer the whole night, but you couldn’t help it when you knew Jaemin was probably having the time of his life with Yunhee at their table, Jeno right at his side with his own date.

“Come on, cheer up a bit, you still have us.” June kindly told you.

“I know, it’s just,” you put your head in your hands, careful of your makeup, “this is not the way I dreamt of things going.”

June shook her head. “Well, some dreams are better left as dreams. Just wait, Jaemin will get his karma, I promise you.”

“It better come soon because I’m getting sick of seeing them together.” You nodded over to where he was dancing with Yunhee. You didn’t dare look at them, not wanting to see his stupidly handsome face and his dumb smile or the way she blushed at his compliments and the way her pink nails matched his pink tie.

You left the hotel ballroom that night vowing to yourself that you’d never speak to Na Jaemin again. Your friends fully supported you on this endeavor and your group became the tightest you’ve ever been even if it was only for the last month of your high school career. Graduation came and went, the special night was spent having your own mini party at one of your friends’ house after the ceremony and you might have even had a bit to drink.

Summer felt like an odd daydream of sorts though you were immensely grateful for the break since it allowed you to not have to see Jaemin’s face almost every day of the week. Both of you acted as if the other person didn’t exist and you hoped to keep it that way for a long time. Even when you saw him out of the corner of your eye at freshmen orientation on your college campus, you reminded yourself of the promise you made on prom night.

“Y/n, hey!” He called out to you, walking in your direction.

You looked over at him, giving him a slight smile before turning away and walking off to sit with some of the other people you met earlier while doing some of the icebreaker activities.

Sorry

Some crushes are better kept a crush.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Season 2 Summary (Volume 5: Ch 14 - 17)

🍒 Warning: Detailed spoilers from S2 🍒

Along with the update on 3 June 2021, the CN server released a “Plot Review” which contains bullet-point summaries of S2 :>

Volume 4 Summary: here

When you open your eyes again, you find that you’ve returned to the passageway in the former research centre

Although you originally think that you've re-entered the time loop, you discover a number of oddities

Feeling puzzled, you give Lucien a call, only to hear that his voice sounds as though he had lost something but found it again

“Don’t be afraid. This time, I’ll remember them with you.”

While reassuring you, Lucien rushes over

After talking to Lucien, you understand that after you were shot in the park, you died on the spot. Lucien then felt dizzy. When he opened his eyes again, you were no longer in his arms

Lucien makes a conjecture regarding your death and how you regained consciousness: the duration of your survival will be half of your previous duration of survival. Each time you die, time will leap by the same amount

“How could I not be concerned about you?”

Lucien’s attempts to save you are both reassuring and a promise he says to you amid the chaos

Just like always, he doesn’t fail your expectations, and fulfils this vow

You continuously reduce your duration of survival, which means that the Evolver who is behind this has to change the rules of nature. This exertion causes his Evol to continuously disappear

As such, through Lucien’s calculations, he uses the gravity Evol, finds a chance where he can match the other Evolver, and pulls the both of you out of the distorted time

Your safety is ensured. Lucien heads to the NW research room. Because of his ambition, and more so for your safety, he begins wresting for the control of the experiment

The dust seems to settle. But when you wake up the next day, you find that there’s a neckband on your neck. The entire city is enveloped in a thick fog, and the signal has been cut

On your phone, there’s an invitation to the Hunter Game

In this game of “hide and seek”, the ones with “Joker” cards have to catch “Humans” in order to extend the duration of their survival. The “Humans” have to look for portable oxygen concentrators in order to ensure their own survival

You’re a “Joker”, and you work with the “Human” Lucien to search for a way to survive

In order to study the fog, the two of you head to the bioscience centre. A supply point appears nearby, and a disagreement ensues because you’re both considering the other person’s safety. Lucien’s agitated emotions are contrary to your expectations

“I don’t wish for you to take risks.”

After being in a daze for a moment, Lucien calms down. He suggests that the both of you should compromise, and take this “risk” together

You deliberately expose yourself to an enemy in order to ensure Lucien’s safety. On the other hand, Lucien creates a trap made of icicles. After confirming the enemy’s position, he attacks. The tacit understanding the both of you have in this collaboration results in successful returns

Lucien makes progress in his research. He tells you that the fog comprises of an unknown substance. Such a substance should have a direct link to the Hunter Game. Unfortunately, the organiser of the game, Joker, appears and takes Lucien away...

To source for more clues, you leave the bioscience centre. Through the actions of passers-by, you’re able to obtain another batch of supplies, and you follow behind them

The place they head to turns out to be near Shaw’s antique store. It comes as a shock when you realise that half of the antique store has been burnt down

Just as you worry about Shaw, you hear his voice

“Who let you commit crimes in front of me?”

Shaw isn’t just unscathed. He seems to be using his own methods to maintain the peace and help those around him

He suggests that in order to prove the connection between the Hunter Game and the Lighthouse, he might as well lure the mastermind out

Shaw surmises that the supply points are made available in sequence, and decides to open a supply box in advance. Distributing the portable oxygen concentrators would reduce conflict, in turn ruining the game

As expected, the youth who hangs out around Joker appears. Even though he brings along external help, Shaw manages to suppress him. Unfortunately, the severely wounded youth renders both of your portable oxygen concentrators ineffective, and flees in the chaos

Shaw’s duration of survival is close to zero, but he doesn’t seem affected by the poisonous gas at all

While you’re feeling puzzled, Loveland City experiences a power cut. This causes the ad-hoc rescue points in the city to plunge into chaos

You know that Joker is doing all of this to stir people into conflict

You and Shaw head to the power station to investigate, and realise that the power lines have been tampered with by an Evolver. To restore electricity, Shaw overuses his Evol, using all his willpower to illuminate the whole of Loveland City

Shaw exhausts his energy, and the time left of your survival is almost reaching an end

“Hey, come here...”

Shaw grabs you, leaning against your shoulder. No matter what excuses he uses, you know that he’s extending your time

Shaw vanishes

[Note] A translation of Kiro’s segment is available here by @keliosyfan​! I’d highly recommend reading it before the summary~

After leaving the power station, you decide to seek help from a rescue point

Along the way, the KIROMap suddenly starts up, and you can hear Kiro’s voice from the microphone on your neckband

The both of you communicate through the neckband. It turns out that since ever the Hunter Game began, he has been trying to decode the game’s system

Following his instructions, you successfully evade danger, and meet him in an underground carpark in a shopping mall

But the person you meet is Helios

While exchanging information, Helios locks you in a utility room. You know clearly in your heart that he did this to protect you

Through the KIROMap, you are able to trace his current location, and realise that he’s behind the door, right next to you

You give him information on Joker and the youth, hoping that they can be of some assistance

On the other side of the door, Helios uses his hacker skills to seize control of the Hunter Game

Your phone suddenly notifies you that the Hunter Game has come to an end

“I announce that a new game has officially begun.”

Helios uses his own computer program to create a new “game”, overturning the “hunt and kill” rules of the Hunter Game

Right at this moment, Helios opens the door to the utility room, and tells you that Joker has barged in along with others

The both of you deal with this group of people. Helios sets a trap, causing the other party’s game system to be completely taken over by Helios’. With this, he manages to successfully crack the program for the neckbands

The other party is furious, attempting to use bombs to destroy Helios’ computer

While fleeing for your life, the bomb explodes. Helios does something strange - he covers your ears

He appears alarmed, as though extremely worried that your ears would get hurt because of this

Amid the chaos, you make a guess regarding the truth behind Kiro’s hospitalisation, how Helios appeared, and other things - his hearing is damaged

Joker’s men appear, and they request for Helios to hand over the game’s access

Helios sustains heavy injuries during the confrontation with Joker. Just as you think Joker has won, Helios suddenly turns to the youth with the Evol to transfer objects-

“I command you. Send everyone in Loveland City out of the city immediately.”

Helios was pretending to be injured in order to lower Joker’s guard, and to find a chance to command the youth to send everyone away

Helios restarts the negotiations with Joker - he will take Joker to the Lighthouse. In exchange, Joker has to bring you to a safe place, as well as disperse the fog

In order to reassure you, Helios promises that he’d contact you tomorrow

After being sent to the Meteorological Centre, you contact people from Black Swan and related experts to disperse the fog

At daybreak on the second day, he tells you to meet him on the bridge near the riverside

He gives you all the control of the game. From his tone, he seems to be heading to a dangerous place

This time, his command causes soft waves to surface in your heart

“I want you to remember everything about us.

After parting ways, he promises that he’d definitely return safely

[Note] A more detailed translation of Gavin’s chapter is available here!

After the fog disperses, the Hunter Game appears to be discontinued. However, you discover that there’s a small island called “Small Rock Reef” in which there’s still a lot of activity. People who have been caught by “Jokers” may have been sent away and trapped there

You head to the STF to report this information and to ask for assistance. While conversing with Tang Chao, you find out that Gavin volunteered to head to the Small Rock Reef on his own

At this moment, Gavin contacts the STF. From what he says, you’re given preliminary information of what’s happening underground in Small Rock Reef, and surmise that there may be leads related to the Lighthouse there. As such, you offer to go there too

Under Gavin’s “reorganisation”, order is maintained in the underground arena of Small Rock Reef. While distributing supplies and freeing evacuating people who have been trapped, Gavin brings you to a place which has a special apparatus. The both of you determine that this is the apparatus Joker uses to gather Evol energy in order to unseal the Lighthouse

You and Gavin decide to study it properly after the evacuation operation. However, people from NW barge in, and employ violent tactics during the rescue mission. After being corrected by Gavin, a temporary partnership with NW is formed to carry out the evacuation. At this moment, a warning comes from STF into your earpieces - Loveland City is once again in a crisis. The fog has reappeared, and the Hunter Game is continuing

While this is happening, the numbers on the apparatus continue to increase

“This game is far from over.”

In order to stop Joker, the both of you decide to take apart this apparatus to ruin his plan

But this act of taking apart the apparatus triggers a device which Joker prepared in advance. Poisonous gas surfaces in the underground passageway. The walls crack, causing seawater to flood in, threatening to drown everyone. At this critical juncture, Gavin uses his Evol to push everyone into an entrance where they can escape with their lives. You insist on staying behind to face the danger with him

Gavin uses this opportunity to destroy the apparatus, but the number on the device continues to increase. The two of you think that the gathering of Evol energy will only be under control if the Hunter Game is put to a complete end. As such, the both of you return to Loveland City

With the cooperation of the STF agents, Gavin borrows the power of wind to “retrieve” the thick fog which had enveloped the city. With this, the Hunter Game comes to a halt. He announces the end of the Hunter Game to the entire city

“Each of you here is a hero of this city.”

While Gavin recuperates in the hospital, you receive a call from a Black Swan researcher, and find out that an overuse of Evol could result in pathological changes. You recall what happened earlier, and the sheer amount of Evol Gavin expended. As such, you immediately head to the hospital to let him know about this, but receive a polite rejection over the phone

“Why don’t we talk about this after we’re both done with work?”

On the other side, Gavin avoids you, watching as his fingers turn transparent. His use of Evol doesn’t seem very stable, and an ominous black wind curls around his fingertips...

Even though the Hunter Game has come to an end, LFG’s acquisition of companies related to the “Small Syringes” continues to draw heated debate

Victor hasn’t contacted you, but Goldman passes on a message, telling you to give a report on a proposal in LFG

Victor’s office is empty, but tiny hints that differ from the usual enables you to find the message left behind by Victor for you

“Don’t make me wait for too long.”

Through making Victor’s documents public, you restore LFG’s reputation, and also toss aside the ungrounded information that Victor was taken away by the police, and exert pressure on NW which took Victor away

At the same time, according to the message, you head to Grandpa Chuck’s small wooden house

Victor is likely using such methods to ensure your safety. Unfortunately, NW manages to find you, and brings you away

Here, you see a handcuffed Victor

Now that you’re here, you’re able to give Victor a more comprehensive understanding of what’s happening in the outside world. Victor has also analysed that Joker, who was almost successful, would definitely take action soon

Right after he finishes speaking, there is an explosion in Prison Island

“Remember. Don’t make a fool of yourself.”

Victor starts negotiating with the commanding officer

In exchange for him crossing time and space to keep the Prison Island under control, Victor requests for NW to guarantee your safety, remove the handcuffs, turn off the surveillance cameras in the room, and ensure both of your freedom after the matter is resolved. You also mention that you’re able to read memories of the people involved in the explosion, and can obtain Joker’s location and objective

The commanding officer of NW agrees to this deal

Through reading their memories, you find that Joker was on the island to do up a detailed plan, and he seems to be searching for something. You also find that this is the island you weren’t able to access the previous time - Small Rock Reef

On the other side, Victor has begun to direct the other island

“I more or less understand the situation. Prepare to begin.”

While giving commands, Victor determines that a certain object on the island is still absorbing energy, and he immediately pauses time

Victor suggests using himself as bait to force Joker to appear. This way, NW could use this chance to arrest Joker. Victor will take the initiative, and all NW has to do is agree

Before the plan begins, Victor specially sends you away, and accepts a certain drug from NW which can heighten his Evol

The plan to arrest Joker is underway. Victor shares his actual thoughts with you

He senses that NW intends to collect the spoils of victory without lifting a finger. As such, he needs you to read Joker’s memories, and be one step quicker in finding the thing he’s searching for, and then destroy it

“We only have one chance. Got it?”

When Joker appears, Victor pauses time temporarily. You seize this chance to learn that what he’s searching for is that stone tablet which has the symbol “8″ engraved in it

You do everything you can to search for it. Despite looking like a mess from running and falling, you successfully destroy the stone tablet

The plan succeeds. However, before you and Victor can celebrate, NW goes back on its word, arresting the both of you

At another location, Gavin is wearing formal attire, and he has arrived at a small courtyard

“After I find out the truth, I’ll exchange them back with you.”

Facing an elderly person who doesn’t trust him, Gavin removes his gun and badge, giving them to the other party

He seems to have made up his mind about something

During the interval when NW is arresting Joker, the youth who hangs out with Joker escapes

He pushes open the door, and the person standing in front of him is Lucien

“Because I’m the same as all of you, and need “intelligent people”.

Volume 6 (Ch 18 - 21): here

More S2 content: here

[babypandawrites]

Allies, Pt. 8

The Deserter

Pairing: Sokka x F Reader Warnings: Burn Injury  Word Count: 3,300 Summary: As usual, things do not go as planned. Lesson learned, going to a Fire Nation festival should always be tucked into the bad idea folder. 

-Navigation- | -Allies Masterlist- | -Atla Masterlist- 

Taglist: @boomeraangin​​

Eyes wide, Y/n snatched one of the pages hanging from the notice board before the others could see it. It was a wanted poster of her. It wasn’t the first time the Fire Nation put one of these out for her, but that didn’t make it any less alarming! She balled up the page as Katara approached the notice board, and shoved it into her pocket.  Grimacing, she moved to stand next to the girl. None of them saw that, right? “This should give us a good idea of what’s around here.” Katara noted, as she looked over the board.  “See if you can find a menu, I’m starving.”  The two girls ignored Sokka, as Aang rushed up to the board. He pointed to a colorful flyer that had been hung up. “I bet we’ll find something to eat here! The Fire Days Festival. Fire Nation cultural exhibits… jugglers, benders, magicians. This’d be a great place for me to study some real firebenders!”  Looking at her friend, her eyebrows furrowed together. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Aang.”  Sokka pointed to something on another side of the board. “Yeah, you might wanna rethink that. Look at this.”  Y/n walked over to see it was a wanted poster of Aang, the boy soon joining as well. There was also one for ‘The Blue Spirit’- That being the masked person who ended up being Zuko- and a white haired man.  “Hey, a poster of me!” “A wanted poster. This is bad.”  Aang took the wanted poster off the board as Katara walked over to look at it.  “I think we better keep moving.”  “I have to learn firebending at some point, and this could be my only chance to watch a master up close.”  Katara looked at the ground, thinking for a short moment. “I guess we could check it out.” “What!? You want to walk into a Fire Nation town where they’re all fired up with all their, you know, fire?”  Crossing her arms over her chest, Y/n looked between Katara and Aang. “I’m gonna have to agree with Sokka on this one, this is a terrible idea.”  “We’ll wear disguises and if it looks like trouble, we’ll leave.” Katara suggested, as her and Aang walked over to Appa.  Sokka breathed out a sigh. “Yeah, because we always leave before we get into trouble.” 

On a hill outside of the town, Aang told Appa and Momo to hide, only one of the animals being successful in the feat. Y/n giggled watching Appa attempt to hide behind a small bush, he was truly adorable.  “Ready disguises!”  At Aang’s words, Y/n, Sokka and Katara pulled the hoods of the cloaks they wore over their heads. Aang had pulled the top of his shirt over his head in a completely ineffective disguise. He grinned at the three, as Sokka crossed his arms over his chest. Katara and Y/n laughed at the silliness of it.  “It’s like you’re a whole different person.” Sokka spoke sarcastically.  Aang started to lead the way down the hill. “Let’s go!”  The group walked down to the main square of the town, it was full of people. Several of the people enjoying the festival wore colorful masks.  “I think we need some new disguises.”  Sokka looked at his sister, somewhat annoyed. “Where are we gonna get masks like that?”  Nudging him gently in the side, Y/n nodded her head over to a stand a few feet away from them- It was selling masks.  “Get your genu-ine Fire Festival masks here!”  “That was surprisingly easy.”  Each of them had gotten masks to wear- Sokka wore one with a happy expression on it and Aang wore one with a sad expression. Looking between the two, Katara and Y/n took the masks off the boys and switched them, matching their masks with their moods. Walking further into the town square, Aang pointed ahead.  “Hey, there’s some food.”  “Finally!” Sokka rushed up to the food stand. “What do you have?”  The food merchant grabbed a small bag, steam came from it. “Flaming fire flakes! Best in town.” Sokka grabbed the bag from him. “I’ll take ‘em!” He stuffed them into his mouth, but quickly started to scream and huff, steam blowing from his mouth. He partially removed his mask to cool his tongue. “Aaaaah! Hot! Hot!”  Katara crossed her arms. “Flaming fire flakes, hot? What do you know.”  Y/n snickered. “Never would have guessed that.”  Aang looked off to the side, and started to walk away. “Hey, look at this.”  The three followed after him, stopping near a puppet stage. The audience in front of the stage was composed of children. The curtain in front of the stage drew open, and a puppet of the Fire Lord appeared. The children cheered.  “Don’t worry loyal citizens! No one can surprise the Fire Lord!”  Behind the Fire Lord puppet, a puppet of an earthbender rose up, with a rock ready to strike the other puppet. The children in the crowd cried out warnings. The Fire Lord puppet suddenly turned around and torched the earthbender puppet with a gout of flames. As the children cheered at the display, the group turned away from the performance, and followed Aang as he led them to another area.  “Aang, hold on! Where are we going?” Katara questioned as they walked.  “I don’t know, but there’s a big crowd so it must be good.”  “Knowing the Fire Nation, it’s probably an execution.”  Y/n furrowed her eyebrows together under her mask. “The Fire Nation doesn’t hold public executions..” She mumbled to herself, following after her friends to get a better look at the stage.  A firebending performer stood on the stage, manipulating flames for the crowd's delight. He extinguished the fire and produced a small flock of white birds that flew off the stage.  Aang partially took off his mask, watching the birds fly away. He turned back to the stage, a large smile plastered onto his face. “I gotta learn that trick!”  “Thank you! For my next trick I need a volunteer from the audience!” Aang’s hand shot up in the air. “Oh! Oh! Me! Me!”  Sokka looked at him. “What do you think you’re doing?”  “I want to get a closer look.”  Y/n’s arms crossed over her chest. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”  “It’s better that we don’t attract any attention to ourselves.”  The performer pointed at Katara, after she finished speaking. “How about you, little lady?”  She backed away, shaking her head. “Uh…”  “Awww, she’s shy. Leeet’s give her some encouragement, folks!”  Someone in the audience pushed Katara to the edge of the stage, where the performer grabs onto her and hauls her up.  “Awww! That could’a been me.”  The performer ushered Katara to the center of the stage, sitting her on the chair that had been brought out. “This next trick is called ‘Taming the Dragon’. You will be my captured princess!”  He used a maroon ribbon to tie her to the chair, before beginning to bend a huge fire comet from the fires that stood atop the pillars of the stage. He looped it close to Katara then moved it back away. He controlled it by a flame rope that connected to his hand.  “Don’t worry, young maiden. I will tame this fiery beast!” He continued to control the fire comet. “It’s too strong, I can’t hold it!” “We gotta help her!” There was a hint of panic in Aang’s voice.  “No, we don’t want to make a scene!” Sokka tried to stop him.  “Yeah- Aang, it’s just a performance-”  “The rope, it’s breaking!”  The rope the performer was using to control the comet broke, the flames charging at Katara. She cringed and cried out. Aang airbended himself up, Sokka, Y/n and another man failing to restrain him. He dropped down in front of Katara, and created a whirlwind that dissipated the comet in a shower of confetti.  The performer looked at Aang. “Hey, you tryin’ to upstage me, kid?”  The crowd started to ‘boo’ Aang, and as he did a little dance to amuse them, Sokka and Y/n hopped up onto the stage to untie Katara.  “Hey! That kid’s the Avatar!” Someone shouted from the crowd. This caught the attention of three Fire Nation guards, who started to weave through the crowd to get to the stage.  “I think it’s time to go.” Sokka said, as the group removed their masks.  “Follow me! I can git ya outta here!” The man who tried to help stop Aang before called out to them. He stood near a broken wall at the back of the stage, waving them over to it.  “There they are!” One of the guards shouted as they got to the stage. They ran through the broken wall, and once they were through the man threw a smoke bomb at the guards to obscure their view. The group ran through squares and alleys, the man who helped accompany them. A guard pointed at them, as they passed him.  “Over there!”  “I’m calling Appa!” Aang got out his bison whistle and blew into it, as a group of guards started to pursue them.  “I hope he can really hear that bison whistle!” Sokka commented.  “This way!” The man turned into an alleyway, that was a dead end. “Okay! Not this way!”  They turned to leave, but the exit was blocked by guards. The man threw another smoke bomb at the guards, allowing the group to run past them. They ran into another alley, but it was also a dead end.  “Appa! Down here!” Aang called to the bison as he arrived just in time. Appa landed between the group and the guards and hit his tail against the ground, blowing the guards out of the alley.  They all got up onto Appa and took off. The man who had helped them used a bomb like object to set off fireworks that had been in the alley. He removed his hood as they flew away.  “Nice touch setting off the fireworks.” Aang commented, watching the fireworks go off.  Sokka looked at the man, impressed. “You seem to really know your explosives.”  “I’m familiar.” He turned to face them.  “You’re a Fire Nation soldier!”  “Was. My names Chey.” 

The group settled around a campfire that night. Chey was speaking with them.  “I serve a man. More than a man really, he’s a myth, but he’s real, a living legend, Jeong Jeong the Deserter. He was a Fire Nation general, or wait, was he an admiral?”  Sokka looked at the man blankly. “He was very high ranked, we get it.”  “Yeah! Way up there! But he couldn’t take the madness any more. He’s the first person to ever leave the army- and live. I’m the second, but you don’t get to be a legend for that. That’s okay though. Jeong Jeong’s a firebending genius. Some say he’s mad- But he’s not! He’s enlightened.”  “You mean there’s a firebender out here who’s not with the Fire Lord?” Aang stood up, excited. “We’ve gotta go see him! He can train me!”  “We’re not gonna go find some crazy firebender!”  Chey stood up. “He’s not crazy! He’s a genius! And he’s the perfect person to train the Avatar! That’s why I followed you into the festival.”  Sokka also stood up. “Look, thanks for the help, but we’re leaving for the North Pole in the morning.”  Aang furrowed his eyebrows together. “Sokka, this could be my only chance to meet a firebending master who would actually be willing to teach me.”  “It can’t hurt just to talk to him.” Katara said, standing up.  “That’s what you said about going to the festival! Why doesnt anyone ever listen to me?!” Sokka turned to look at Y/n, who has yet to speak. “Come on, Y/n, you’re with me, right?”  She was silent for a moment, thinking. “Well… Aang does need to learn Firebending eventually… Hmmm..” She shrugged her shoulders.  Groaning in frustration, Sokka turned to stalk away from the group, but stops having nearly run into a spear. Suddenly, they were all surrounded by men wearing straw hats and armor, each of them wielding a spear.  “Don’t move!”  They were led through the forest by the rebel men, after a long time walking, they came across a small shack that had been settled at the bottom of a hill.  “Go on. He sees you only.” The man who’d Y/n had learned the name of was Lin Yi, spoke to Chey.  “Oh that’s okay, we can chat later.”  “Is that where Jeong Jeong is? I need to talk to him right away.” Aang tried to walk towards the shack, but was stopped by a spear shaft blocking his path.  “No! You wait there.” Lin Yi pushed Chey forward roughly. “Go now!”  “Don’t worry! Everything’ll be fine. He’s a great man, great man!” Chey walked down to Jeong Jeong’s hut.

Y/n had fallen asleep during the wait and in the morning had learned Jeong Jeong agreed to teach Aang firebending. She sat on the ground outside, doing some stretches while listening in on the lesson between Jeong Jeong and Aang.  “Widen your stance. Wider! Bend your knees. Now, concentrate. Good, good!”  “Wait! What do I do now?”  She glanced over to see that Jeong Jeong had begun walking away.  “Silence! Talking is not concentrating! Look at your friend,” He pointed at Katara. “Is she talking? What about her?” Then he pointed at Y/n, before pointing at Sokka. “Even that oaf knows to concentrate on what he’s doing.”  “Hey!” Snickering, Y/n went back to focusing on her stretches.  Aang breathed out a sigh. “But what am I concentrating on?”  “Feel the heat of the sun. It is the greatest source of fire. Yet, it is in complete balance with nature!” “So when do I get to make some fire?”  “Concentrate!”  Katara, Y/n and Sokka all laughed a bit as Aang tried to concentrate, feigning innocence when he turned to look at them all. 

“This is the worst firebending instruction ever. All he does is leave me alone for hours to concentrate or breath.” Aang complained, as he held a leaf with a small hole burned in the center in his hand.  “I’m sure there’s a good reason.”  Y/n nodded in agreement with Katara. “There most likely is. Jeong Jeong is a Master, he’s bound to know what he’s talking about.”  “But I’m ready to do so much more.” His face lit up when an idea came to mind. Widening his stance, he began to take in deep breaths. The leaf he held started to smoke, before suddenly bursting into flames. With the leaf disintegrating, Aang was left holding a fireball in his hand. “I did it! I made fire!”  Katara took a few steps closer. “Aang, that’s great, but you should take it slow.”  Eyebrows furrowing together, Y/n once again nodded in agreement with the girl. “Yeah, this doesn’t seem like a good idea, Aang.”  The flame got bigger, in reaction to Aang’s annoyance with their comments.  “Careful!”  Aang regained control and reduced the flame to its former size, but he nearly fell into the river doing so.  “Now that’s firebending!” He shot a whip of flames into the distance, before beginning to juggle the ball of flame happily.  Y/n took a few steps back. “Aang, you should stop.”  “Yeah, you’ll hurt yourself!”  She was about to tell Katara to get back, but was a bit too late. Aang created a circle of fire around himself, pushing it outwards. The flames burned Katara’s hands, when she raised them to protect her face. Crying out in pain, she crumpled to her knees.  “Katara!” Aang and Y/n shouted in unison, rushing over to her. The latter kneeling down next to the waterbender.  “Katara, I’m so sorry.”  Sokka rushed over. “Katara, what’s wrong?!” He looked at Aang, clearly upset. “What did you do?”  Aang held his hands up in defense. “It was an accident! I was… Katara, I’m so-” He got cut off, from Sokka tackling him to the ground.  “I told you we shouldn’t mess around with this! Look at what you did! You burned my sister!”  Katara got up, and ran away. Getting up herself, Y/n rushed to grab her bag, before running after the girl. 

“Katara?” Y/n tentatively approached the girl, as she sat at the riverbank her hands dunked into the water. “I have some salve that should help your burns…” Trailing off, she watched in shock as Katara’s hands glowed underneath the water. They glowing stopped as she lifted her hands from the water, the burns on her hands now gone.  “That… also works.”  “You have healing abilities.” The two turned to see Jeong Jeong approaching them from behind. “The great benders of the water tribe sometimes have this ability.” The man took a seat next to Katara. “I’ve always wished I were blessed like you- free from this burning curse.”  “But you’re a great master. You have powers I’ll never know.”  “Water brings healing and life. But fire brings only destruction and pain. It forced those of us burdened with its care to walk a razor’s edge between humanity and savagery. Eventually, we are torn apart.”  Suddenly, the water in front of them is blasted with gouts of flame. Jeong Jeong stood quickly, taking a defensive stance before breaking the flames that threatened to hit him, Y/n and Katara. Fire Nation riverboats floated across the water towards them.  “Go get your friends and flee! Do not come back here or you will all be destroyed. Hurry!”  Y/n helped Katara off the ground, before the two ran back in the direction of Jeong Jeong’s hut, where Sokka and Aang should be. They ran up to Sokka, where he was preparing Appa to leave. He turned to look at them, worry written onto his features.  “Katara! Are you all right?”  “I’m fine, we’ve got to get out of here. Where’s Aang?”  Sokka pointed his thumb in the direction of Jeong Jeong’s hut, turning to Y/n when Katara ran down to it.  “What’s going on?”  She tossed her bag up onto Appa’s saddle. “The Fire Nation found us. Jeong Jeong is dealing with them right now but honestly I’m not sure how long that will last. We should leave and fast.”  “Right.” He nodded in affirmation, before raising an eyebrow. “What did you do to help Katara?”  “I was going to give her some of the salve I have for burns but, turns out she didn’t need it.”  “What do you mea-”  “Come on!” He got cut off by Katara, as she ran over and clambered up onto Appa.  Once the three were all up on Appa’s saddle, they went and got Aang, before leaving.  “Aang, you’re burned.” Katara said, once they were up in the air. His sleeve was torn, burn marks covering his skin. “Let me help you.” She opened her water container, before wrapping some of the water around her hand. It started to glow, as she placed it over Aang’s wounds. After a moment of concentration, she pulled her hand away and the wound was healed.  “Wow! That’s good water.”  Sokka looked at her confused. “When did you learn how to do that?”  She offered a shrug. “I guess I always knew.”  “Oh… well then thanks for all the first aid over the years. Like when I fell into the grease briar bramble and that time I had two fish hooks in my thumb!”  Y/n let out a snicker. “Two?”  “He tried to get the first fish hook out with another fish hook.”  “Wow.”  “Oh, and the time that big snake bit me! Thanks for healing that up. That was great. Really helpful.” He continued, as they flew into the distance.

[chloelucia13]

Chapter 18: E Pluribus Unum

Pairing: Jonathan Byers x female!Henderson!reader

Prompt:  You always thought Hawkins was the most boring town of all, stuck in a vacuum void of excitement and entertainment. Well, it seems that way until the world decided to flip upside down, literally.

Chapter Summary: The horrid night at the hospital brought up many worries about you, especially for Jonathan. With the party’s advice, Nancy and Jonathan devise a plan to hopefully get you back to normal.

Word Count: 3720

Warnings: pretty angsty, a little fluff, language, violence, gore, discussions of possession and lack of autonomy, mentions of death, different perspective in italics

A/N: We’re getting close to the end of season 3! I’m thinking I’m gonna space these episode rewrites between some extra scenes I couldn’t fit into the story and some individual one shots, but let me know what you think! As always, my in box and tag lists and requests are all open! Love you!

Tags: @just-my-fandom​ @nightbu-g​ @neemonroe​

As Nancy and Jonathan watched the creature shift form and trickle through the vents in the door, panic flooded through their veins.

Jonathan contemplated running back to you and waking you up, to beg for you to take control of that thing and save Nancy. But as he thought about it, the image of your panicked face flashed in front of his eyes. He saw how fearful you were that you were losing control, that you might put everyone at risk.

Ultimately, he decided that you being asleep was for the better, but that didn’t make this situation any easier.

He heard a thud from inside the room as he gripped onto an oxygen tank and began to ram it into the door handle to try and break it off. After that proved fruitless, he shifted his efforts to the glass window in the door, watching the webbing cracks grow longer and longer but the glass still didn’t cave.

The creature let out a blood-curdling roar as a herd of footsteps approached Jonathan. Defeatedly, he stumbled back and tried to heave in a few breaths as Eleven stepped up to the door and tore it from its hinges. As the door crashed to the ground, the creature turned to screech at the group that was herded in the doorway.

“Jesus,” Mike gasped as Max hissed out a hushed “what the fuck” under her breath.

The creature rushed towards El, who was now a few steps inside the room, and she quickly swung her hand to the side, effortlessly tossing the creature against the wall. Then another wall. And then the ceiling.

Screams fell from El’s lips and the monster’s pincer-like jaws as it collided with the floor, though it quickly gained its composure and scrambled to its legs. It began to crawl forward with a vengeance, but Eleven threw her hands forward and sent the creature flying out the window.

As soon as they heard the splat of the creature hitting the pavement, Jonathan rushed into the room to check on Nancy while the party rushed down the stairs. Once she gave Jonathan a reassuring nod that she was, in fact, okay, they followed the party down the stairs and out to the parking lot where the creature laid.

The creature dissolved into that strange coagulation of guts and gore once more before inching over to a storm drain and dripping down into the tunnels.

Once there was to remnants of the creature lingering on the asphalt, Jonathan’s worry shifted to you, who was still on the abandoned floor of the hospital.

“Y/N,” he spoke, quickly turning on his heel and heading back inside.

“She’s in there?” Max asked incredulously, her eyes tracking Jonathan as he nodded quickly before disappearing behind the hospital doors.

His footsteps echoed throughout the stairwell as he rushed up the stairs two at a time, pushing through the door to the third floor. Panic was clouding his brain, hoping that you were still there and you hadn’t slipped away before he could try and help you. God, he just wanted to make you okay again. Make you you again.

As he rounded the corner to the room where you laid, he could barely even feel his feet from how overused they were. Nevertheless, he pushed forward, calling your name as he entered the room.

Luckily, you were still on the floor, and the inky veins seemed to have faded from your skin. You were so still, so motionless, though, as you laid on the cold linoleum that it worried Jonathan.

He gently knelt beside you and rolled you onto your back, one hand cupping your cheek while the other felt for a pulse on your neck. Once he felt the stead thrumming under his fingertips, he let out a sigh of relief. His hand left your cheek to brush a few strands of hair away from your face, letting his eyes soak in your relaxed features for only a moment before pulling you into his arms and lifting you off of the floor.

***

Your eyes began to flutter open from the movement, a small sigh falling from your parted lips. “Jonathan?” you whispered, panic beginning to seep into your veins.

He glanced down at you as he walked, each limping step making your head loll slightly. “Hey, it’s okay,” he hummed, clearly sensing the anxiety that had took hold. 

Your gaze flickered over every bruise that marred his face. “I’m so sorry, Jonathan. I couldn’t take control. I couldn’t stop it.”

He shook his head. “It’s okay. We’re gonna get this thing out of you.”

You shook your head fervently, gripping onto his shirt. “Jonathan, you can’t. I’m gonna hurt you. I don’t have enough energy to keep the flayer at bay.” To say that you didn’t have enough energy was a sever understatement, though. You felt as though you’d been awake for days and had just run a marathon. Your body was screaming for sleep, your eyelids already beginning to droop.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

“Jonathan, I don’t want to hurt you. Please.”

As he stepped out of the stairwell and through the exit of the hospital, he softly shushed you. Your mouth opened to argue, to beg for him to leave you and protect himself, but it fell shut along with your eyelids as the gentle rocking of his steps and his voice lulled you to sleep.

***

The drive to Hopper’s cabin was tense and silent, everyone in shock of what had just occurred. That, and the fact that they were harboring the leader of the flayer, the creature that was on a mission to kill.

Jonathan had volunteered to sit in the back of Nancy’s car with you on the ride there so that he could keep an eye on you, and though Nancy gave him a look of worry, he proceeded with his plan. 

He sat with your limp body leaning against him, your head resting against his shoulder and your open mouth fanning your warm breath on his neck. With his girlfriend in the driver’s seat, his mind wandered back to the night before when your lips were pressed against his. He thought about the many times he had woken up with you in his bed, when both of you had fallen asleep to a mixtape that was still in the tape deck by morning. When the sunshine fell perfectly on your face that had a ghost of a smile lingering on it. When your legs were tangled with his and your head was resting on his chest, warm huffs of air falling from your lips and mingling with his breath due to the close proximity.

He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt at ridding himself of the thoughts, though all he could see was that rare glimpse of peace that he’d witness when you slept.

With a huff, he looked down at your sleeping form and watched your shoulders rise and fall with steady breaths.

He wished he could see the flutter of your eyelids as you dreamt, but they were hidden behind a scrap of fabric as a precaution in case you had awoken.

Once Nancy parked in front of the cabin, Mike assisted Jonathan in carrying you out of the car and into the house. Gently, the two boys laid you on the bed of the spare bedroom that was tucked away in the very back corner of the cabin.

As Jonathan slowly closed the door behind him and locked it, Mike gave him a look. “What?” Jonathan whispered, tucking the key into his back pocket.

“You should probably tone down the heart eyes a little bit,” Mike advised, arching a brow at Jonathan.

Jonathan’s brows furrowed in bewilderment, glancing around quickly before stepping close to Mike and lowering his voice. “What are you talking about?”

“Dude, are you that oblivious?” Jonathan shrugged, and Mike let out a sigh. “It’s super obvious that you’re in love with Y/N-”

“I am not!”

Mike stared at him silently with a look of extreme doubt, and Jonathan’s shoulders slumped. “Just try to tone it down a bit, dude. For Nancy.”

Guilt washed over Jonathan’s features at the mention of Nancy. “I just... I don’t know what to do.”

Mike gave him a look of sympathy. “Whatever you do, just don’t hurt either of them.”

Jonathan nodded silently and the two boys parted ways.

***

You woke with a start, searching around the room with wide eyes and a racing heart. You shoved the heavy comforter off of your body and scrambled to the carpeted floor. “Hello?” you called out as you balled your fingers into fists.

The floor creaked with each step, but everything else was silent. “Hello? Where the fuck am I?” you called out once more, stepping up to the door and trying the doorknob. The door didn’t budge, and your breath new fell from your lips in short bursts as panic took over your body. 

Your fists collided with the door a few times, letting out a scream of frustration when the wood didn’t give. “Goddammit, let me out!” You threw your body against the door, but the door still held strong. “What the fuck are you going to do with me! Let me out, you son of a bitch!”

***

On the other side of the door, everyone who had fell asleep in the living room woke up from the pounding and the screams. Each person glanced to someone else in the room, silently communicating their panic from the adverse reaction you were displaying to being confined into an unfamiliar room.

Jonathan and Nancy quickly rose from their spot on the couch, Jonathan signaling at everyone to stay quiet while Nancy grabbed onto the rope that they had found the night before. Silently, both teens approached the door with caution and light footsteps.

*** Your outburst easily tired you, and you stumbled back onto the bed with a huff, your gaze fixed in a glare on the door. 

It seemed to be only moments later that the door creaked shut, two figures slipping through the opening before slamming it shut once more. The two people slipped into the crack of sunlight that shone through the blinds, revealing themselves to be Nancy and Jonathan.

“Get away from me,” you hissed, shuffling back into the furthest corner of the bed. The two exchanged a look before Jonathan turned his back and headed over to the desk in the room that was accompanied by a wooden chair.

Nancy gripped onto your ankles and pulled you out of the corner, dragging you against the sheets and causing them to bunch up underneath you. You let out a growl and kicked with all your might, but she had already tied a quick knot around your legs. With another harsh tug, she yanked you off of the bed and onto the floor. You let out a gasp of pain, feeling all of the air escape your lungs and leave you winded.

Jonathan pulled the chair away from the desk and set it behind you and Nancy before rushing over to Nancy and assisting her in lugging you onto the chair. With your free hands, you gripped onto Jonathan’s shirt and tugged with all your might in an attempt to pull him to the ground, but to no avail.

The two sat you in the chair, and Nancy quickly freed Jonathan’s shirt from your grip. A huff left your lips as Nancy yanked your arms behind your back, tying them together before knotting it to the chair. “Let me go,” you said simply, showing no emotion whatsoever. Jonathan clenched his jaw, handing Nancy the other set of ropes for your legs. “Oh, I’m getting the silent treatment now?” You shook your head, leaning forward as much as your binds allowed you. “I said. Let. Me. Go.”

“Just ignore her, Jonathan. It isn’t her,” Nancy said, finishing up the binds on your legs before pushing herself to her feet. “I’m gonna get the heaters.” With that, she left.

“Isn’t her? Hell, I’m just voicing her concerns, her needs. And what she needs is for you to let her go. You don’t wanna break her heart, do you, Johnny? Not like all the other times you had?”

“Shut up,” he hissed through his teeth, eyes trained on the blank wall behind you.

“Oh, he speaks!” You flashed him a sinister smirk. “And why exactly should I shut up? I’m just speaking the truth-”

“You don’t know the truth-”

“Oh, but I do. I have access to her thoughts, her memories, everything. Like I said, I am her. And god, did you hurt her. When you saved Nancy from the Upsidedown but not her. When you ditched her for Nancy all those times, so you could ‘help Nancy,’ when little miss Y/N was the one needing help all along.”

He gulped, clenching his fists.

“All the times she let you run off to do god-knows-what with Nancy while she watched the kids. Watched your own brother.”

“I said, shut up-”

“You know she wished she died that night, in the tunnels. She didn’t want to be the sad damsel in distress anymore, didn’t want to be saved.”

Tears began to cloud his vision, and he turned on his heel to face the opposite wall.

“She wished she was with you. Wished she was in Nancy’s spot, helping you and your brother. But no, she had to go with the kids and Steve, had to be on the brink of death. She had to wait for you to help her, the thing she dreaded the most. You seeing her weak.”

“You’re lying. S-She doesn’t feel that way-”

“Then why do you feel so guilty? It’s tangible, I can almost taste it.” You leaned back, eyes trained on the back of his head. “And then you got a job at the Post with little Miss Nancy, leaving Y/N to work at the public pool with Billy. Leaving her to get possessed by the flayer. By me. Can’t you see, Johnny boy? This is all because of you. All her pain, her aching, because of you.” You chuckled softly, a sinister sound that reverberated in your chest. “Because of you, she was left vulnerable, open to being taken by me. I could tell, no matter how many times she cried for you, for anyone to help her, she needed this. She needed this little… Boost of confidence, let’s say. A lack of a filter.”

He sniffled, shaking his head softly. “Why should I believe anything you say?”

“You don’t have to, but I know you do. Because you know it’s all true.” You wiggled your fingers and toes, trying to get some circulation back into them. “You know that saying, sober thoughts are drunk actions? Think of me as the alcohol. I take her over, get rid of her filter, and let the truth run wild.”

He spun back around and stepped towards you, crouching down so he was eye-level with your face.

“That’s it. Look at what you did to her. Look at the scars.” You pursed your lips, smirking slightly. “She scares people. She doesn’t want to go outside, doesn’t want to be a spectacle, a walking freak show.”

“She’s not-”

“Did she ever tell you that she has to wear glasses because of her eye?” He shook his head. “She’s too scared to wear them around you. Doesn’t want to seem weird. She has constant headaches because of it, because she can barely see out of her one eye without them.”

His lower lip quivered slightly, his hand inching up to cup your face.

“She can hear you, Johnny. She can see you.” Another bone-chilling laugh. “She’s begging me to stop, but what’s the fun in that?”

“Screw you.”

The door squeaked open and shut, Nancy stepping in with a couple more heaters. “Sorry it took so long, I had to dig them out,” she explained, stopping when she took notice of the odd scene in front of her.

“Good. Let’s get this out of her,” He sighed, standing up straight and helping Nancy plug everything in.

You sat silently, a near-pout on your face as the pair worked on plugging in the multitude of heaters that Nancy had found. “I didn’t know you wanted me gone so badly,” you sighed, giving Jonathan a puppy-dog-eye look as he risked a glance at you. 

The room already began to feel at least ten degrees warmer as all of the heaters got to work, and you glanced down in disdain at the sweater and jeans you wore. Nancy and Jonathan took a seat on the bed, their eyes trained on you as if you were a caged animal.

“So what did you guys do the last time you watched someone get exorcised?” you hummed, that fake smile settling on your lips once more. “Did you makeout, maybe sneak off to do god-knows-what together? It seems that that’s what you both are best at when people need your help.”

Nancy’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What?” she whispered, clearly bewildered by your bold statement.

You cocked your head to the side, feigning innocence. “Don’t you remember? Last year, you and Jonathan had gone off and disappeared while little Will was basically on his deathbed. All he needed was an older sibling, someone to comfort him, and Y/N, had to take up that role because you two were too busy.”

“We were trying to get justice for Barb-”

“And as a result you almost got everyone killed.”

“Shut up!” she screamed as she shot up from her seat and leaned close to you, close enough for you to see the sweat beginning to bead on her forehead. “If you say another word, I’m duct taping your mouth shut.”

You clenched your jaw and stared her in the eye, your chest heaving with heavy breaths. Jonathan reached forward and gripped onto Nancy’s forearm, prompting her to look back at him. They exchanged a glance and she contemplated their silent conversation for a moment before settling back down onto the bed.

The room grew warmer and warmer and the tension grew thicker and thicker. Everyone had stayed silent during that time, but that didn’t mean that you were shooting glares at the pair the whole time.

But that heat definitely began to worm its way between you and the flayer, acting like a knife between flesh and meat as it slowly cut away the flayer’s vicelike grip on you. However, as the flayer’s hold on you began to slip away, the days of sleep you’ve missed started to catch up with you.

Your eyelids drooped as sweat trickled down your face, your breaths ragged and hitched from the dry heat and lack of water. “Jonathan, Nancy, please just let me go,” you cried, weakly wiggling your hands and feet in their restraints. 

“Y/N, you know we can’t,” Nancy answered, looking away from you so she wouldn’t feel guilt from the state you were in. 

Nancy and Jonathan were suffering too, sweat making their clothes cling to them like a second skin. But they knew that if you were stuck in this miserable heat, they had to be too. They had to save you, no matter what it took.

Tears welled in your eyes and you let out a tired cry of frustration. “Please! I-I can take control of the mind flayer again and I can keep it from you guys! I can kill it! Please, just let me go!”

Nancy could tell that Jonathan was weighing the outcomes of each option, clearly caving in from the guilt and the heat. “Y/N, we need to get this thing out of you,” Nancy spoke up. “You only have so much control. We can help you.”

“You can’t help me!” you screamed, startling the pair and making them recoil slightly. “Just let me go! Let me go, you sons of bitches!” You began to violently thrash in the chair, prompting the two to get up and try to hold you down. Your screams grew louder when the attempted to restrain you, and they shared a horrified look when those familiar inky veins began to snake up into your skin. 

Your strength grew as the flayer slowly slipped into power as a last ditch effort to continue inhabiting its host, and with one quick yank of your arm, the binds snapped from your wrist. Nancy scrambled to pin your wrist down, but once your other hand freed itself from its confines, both Nancy and Jonathan knew that their efforts were fruitless.

Jonathan rushed to help Nancy, both of them wrestling to keep you restrained while you fought against them with all your might. Your sweat-slicked skin seemed to prove advantageous as you quickly slipped from their grip, yanking the binds around your ankles and breaking them free.

The pair shared a panicked glance as you rose from the chair and shoved them both off of you. “Leave me alone,” you growled, your voice uncharacteristically deep as those black veins protruded from your skin. “Or there will be consequences.”

Jonathan hurried over to you and gripped onto your wrist, giving one last effort to try and help. That clearly was a mistake, though, as you snatched your arm back and landed a quick right jab to his jaw. He stumbled back and clutched his jaw, but as he looked up at you, a flash of guilt and fear could be seen in your eyes. It left as soon as it came, and he hopelessly watched as you slammed your fist into the window and escaped through the newly made exit.

***

Your eyes drooped with exhaustion as you sat on the landing of the stairs, head leaning against the railing as you stared out at the crowd of the flayed that were neatly lined up in single file rows. 

“That-that girl,” he spat, pacing back and forth behind you. “She caused all of this.”

You nodded slowly, your face blank and emotionless. 

“But we’ll win. Soon, we’ll talk control. We’ll end her, them, everyone. Everything will be ours.”

“When?” you hummed, slowly lifting your head from the railing to look up at him.

“Soon.”

[s1utspeare]

to the writing challenge prompt list: liu sang (you guessed it!) and liberosis 👀 bc what else would I want other than PainTM

oooohhhh Vishie you do know the way to a girl’s heart (in reference to this post; send me some prompts!!)

liberosis—the desire to care less about things

It’s a long way down the mountain.

The only blessing is that the pain is less. Sure, the world is sweeping in great, broad strokes underneath his feet, and there’s a ringing in his head that’s louder than anything he’s heard before, but it doesn’t hurt, per say. At least not physically.

Their little caravan goes something like this; Wu Xie is carrying Jia Kezi, as Wu Xie is now, irony of all ironies, healthier than pretty much all of them put together, except for maybe Ouxiang, who is currently helping Pangzi hop along. The big man is talking loudly to his two best friends, probably to distract himself from the pain of a compound leg fracture. Occasionally, Wu Xie will put a hand out to keep Pangzi upright, the three of them molded together once again, as they should be.

Hei Xiazi plods along behind them. He’d volunteered to carrying Jia Kezi himself, but he’s currently got a bullet floating in his abdomen, so Wu Xie had declined his offer. Despite this, Hei-ye seems relatively okay, which is probably due to his strange superhumanness, though his face is somber, pale. Li Jiale is a few steps behind him, which Liu Sang privately thinks is a bit funny; blind, mute, and now deaf. What a group they are.

(It’s not funny, actually. He doesn’t know why he said that.)

Liu Sang and Bai Haotian are bringing up the rear, due to being the shortest and, as much as he’s loathe to admit it, the weakest. Bai Haotian seems to have decided that she’s his personal bodyguard now, which confuses him a lot, because in any other circumstances, he would be protecting her. But ever since... well, since, she’s taken a stance next to him like a sentinel, and even glared at Wu Xie once when he approached too quickly and Liu Sang flinched because he couldn’t hear him coming. 

Yeah. He couldn’t hear him coming. Fuck. 

If he wasn’t so tired, he’d probably be in the middle of a full-blown panic attack, which he has a feeling will be coming later. He’s... there’s a lot going on, in his brain, underneath the ringing and the migraine that’s been pounding steadily against his skull since he took on a headful of dynamite, because, surprise, losing your hearing doesn’t automatically get rid of the pain you already did to your brain before your eardrums ruptured. So there’s still a tattoo beat behind his eyes and clawing at the back of his neck, and he kind of wants to shake his head, pound on the side until he stops feeling like there’s bugs crawling around under his skin. 

That had not been a pleasant experience. At all. A soft buzz, and then, before he could react, the sharp pinch of something that shouldn’t be there, carving into his ears and rooting around inside. He doesn’t remember collapsing on Pangzi, doesn’t even know why he did, really, except for that his body sensed an intruder and went into full lockdown mode. The phantom sensation of legs and wings brushing along his ear canal makes him shiver, and he can’t help it, he jerks his neck to the side, trying to fling the feeling far away. 

His balance has turned to shit, though, because two perforated eardrums mean that your inner gravitational sensory system is fucked, so the movement ends up over-correcting him to the side, where he knocks into Bai Haotian’s shoulder and almost sends both of them flying. Luckily for her, though, he’s maybe at a quarter of what his strength should normally be, so she just stumbles a bit, able to keep them both upright. 

Sure doesn’t seem like it though. Everything tips on its end, and he finds himself looking at the sky while still on his feet which is a weird sort of view. Also his neck feels like putty. Hm. Maybe he should throw up. 

Unfortunately, that doesn’t really solve any of his problems except to make him dizzier, and when his body gets done heaving onto the trail, he finds that someone has sat him down on a large rock and is pressing a cool hand to his forehead. He blinks rapidly, dumbly, at Wu Xie, who is hovering in front of him, and his mouth is moving. 

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” Liu Sang tells him. Again. How loud is he talking? He has no idea. His vocal cords vibrate in a way that makes it seem like it’s fairly loud, but he can’t hear. He can’t hear it, he can’t fucking hear—

Oh, yup, here comes the panic. 

He pushes Wu Xie away, clumsily, and tries to stand up again, but haha, his balance is actually garbage, so he just pitches forward into someone’s arms, and it’s Wu Xie again because of course it fucking is, why is he still here? He was supposed to leave Liu Sang behind, he was supposed to go, Liu Sang wasn’t supposed to make it out—oh. Oh. He wasn’t supposed to say that, was he? 

Wu Xie’s face swims before him, and his mouth is open too wide for normal speech, so he must be shouting, which makes sense, because Liu Sang has just told him a really big secret. But it’s the truth, isn’t it? Wu Xie has to know that. 

Liu Sang is supposed to be dead. 

He almost wants to laugh, because it seems like the world’s cruelest joke, almost, that they’re all mostly alive. Because fuck. Liu Sang almost had his throat slit, almost had his skull beaten in, almost had a bug eat his brain. And at that point, with Wu Xie sick and drowning in his own lungs and dying, with their chances of survival dwindling down to nothing as they tried to find the right combination of choices to make it to Thunder City, he’d done the calculations. Liu Sang’s not just good hearing and a fake Zhang tattoo; he’s smart. It’s what’s kept him alive. It’s what was going to kill him. 

When Pangzi held up the stick of dynamite next to the thunder columns, the calculations went like this:

Wu Xie is dying. The only way he survives is by getting to the Artifact. That’s it.

If Wu Xie dies, Ouxiang and Pangzi are dying. There’s no shape with only two sides.

If Ouxiang and Pangi die, Bai Haotian dies. She’s twenty; she’s fucking twenty years old. She’s not dying in some stupid tomb in the middle of nowhere, alone, by herself.

Maybe Hei-Xiazi makes it out. Maybe. But Mr. Jiao is here, too, and even Hei-ye can’t outrun a firing squad.

Liu Sang is their best weapon, right now. That’s all. He’s always been useful, but right here, right now, this is where he does what he does best. This is where he listens. And if that happens to fuck over Mr. Jiao and Jiang Zisuan and every other fucking person who’s tried to kill them, then sure. Fuck it. It’s as much as he could’ve hoped for.

With only one ear, only one half of his whole, Liu Sang is basically already dead. Might as well make it official.

It’s just math. It’s logical. He was their best hope. Their only hope. You don’t save the bullets in your gun because shooting means they’re gone afterward. You just. You shoot.

He had made his peace with it. He was going to die in that tomb, in the caves, under the ground, alone. He was damaged, and he didn’t know if he would ever be able to work again like he had before. So he turned off the safety. Pulled the trigger. He’d given Wu Xie the rest of everything he had to offer, because somewhere along the way, he realized that he couldn’t bear to see him die.

He told himself that it was for Ouxiang, because Ouxiang would have been devastated without Wu Xie, but there’s some part of him, hidden under layers and layers of thorns, that recognized that losing Wu Xie would devastate Liu Sang, too. He didn’t want to watch that. He didn’t want to listen to that. And if he hadn’t been able to save Wu Xie, in the end, then at least he’d have gone first.

It was selfish, really.

He had pulled away from Wu Xie because he didn’t want to go, not because he couldn’t. He accepted the handful of peanuts from Pangzi with the intention of dropping them as soon as they were out of sight, because his stomach had been rolling too hard to even think of food, and he was so tired, so tired. He was ready. He was dying. He was going to curl up next to a stone wall, just out of sight of anyone who might pass by, and he was going to close his eyes and pretend that he wasn’t alone, wasn’t afraid, and then slowly, slowly, he was going to fall asleep. It would have been nice, he thinks. It would have been okay.

But by some sort of miracle, they’re here, on a mountain path, and Liu Sang is alive and Wu Xie is alive, alive enough to be shouting at him, alive enough to ask, What do you mean? Liu Sang, what do you mean, you weren’t making it out? Liu Sang. Liu Sang.

Liu Sang’s never been good at reading lips, but he knows the shape of his name in Wu Xie’s mouth.

He remembers, then, why he has never fallen in love before.

It’s because it sounds like nothing.

It’s because it hurts.

[jlsadphoenix]

a map and a shovel (to my achilles’ heel)

The evolution of Emma and Killian’s thoughts for each other, told through the early events of their lives together. | 2/2 | AO3

KILLIAN

EMMA

because how the hell had this man managed to see right past her walls in the few hours he spent in her company, when people who’ve known her months, years, had trouble doing the same?

for as long as she’s known him, even with his flowery language and pirate regalia and cluelessness to modern conveniences, he’s always felt the realest person around

Tagging: @teamhook @lillpon @ownedbycaptainswan @inwordsthatnobodyknows1121

1.

“Hey,” Emma starts, noticing a hand reaching out from a pile of bodies. “Hey, there’s someone under there!”

The man they pull out is thanking them, but there are alarms going off in her head. Something’s wrong, this doesn’t make sense. Their eyes meet, his eyes are fearful, yes, grateful as well, but just a bit calculating, too, and her instincts say there’s something more to him.

He sits at the table looking exhausted as Emma asks Mulan (shit, how was this her life, fucking Mulan) more. The story Mulan tells her about the man seems perfectly plausible, but, “Why would Cora leave a survivor?” It’s too messy for someone like Cora. So she offers him some water.

He starts to explain how he hid under the bodies to survive, but there’s something wrong. He’s — not lying, not completely, but Emma’d be damned if he’s telling the full truth. So she leans her elbows down on the table, bringing her head level to his, I’m pretty good at knowing when someone is lying to me, she keeps her voice even, calm, face sympathetic, until —

“I’m telling you the truth,”

Her lie detector goes off.

Got you.

He’s good, she has to admit as she plasters on a sympathetic smile for him, but not good enough. I can guide you —

Ha, not a chance.

So Emma grabs him by the hair, pulls out her knife, and puts it to his throat.

“You’re not gonna guide us anywhere until you tell us who you really are,” she really can’t help the bit of pride that swells up at the flash of surprise in the man’s eyes.

2.

Just looking up at the beanstalk seems daunting. They had to climb that thing?

Whatever story you think you know, my dear, is most certainly wrong, has her scrounging her memory for what she remembered of Jack and the Beanstalk. Something with a cow, she remembered, and — was it a goose or a harp? Ah, she’s getting distracted, and Hook’s amused look and drawling voice really isn’t helping. Very bad form, he finishes his story.

“The treasure remains, and amongst it is the compass,” he says, focusing on her again, and really, why is he always speaking like she’s the only one in this group? “Once we get it, steal the ashes from her, then we’re on our way,” he finishes jovially.

“How do we know you’re not just using us to get the compass for Cora?” Mulan asks suspiciously, and really, Emma could become good friends with her, the way they easily agree.

Hook answers seriously, ‘cause you four are far safer company, clear of any deception. Good enough for now, she supposes, and suggests they start climbing. They’re wasting time sharing stories here.

Then Hook laughs a bit, says only he and one other can climb, and he is seriously getting on her last nerve, don’t be afraid to, y’know, really get into it, he grins, bouncing on his feet, looking completely delighted by this, and why did Captain Hook have to be gorgeous and not all perms and wax mustaches?

They move away from Hook, and she tilts her head back to peer up the beanstalk as the others argue. Damn, she can’t even see the top. How long would that take to climb? She absently hears them arguing over wars or something or another, and out of corner of her eye, she can see Hook trying to hide his impatience despite his earlier words.

The fact that she can relate to that irritation has her interrupting the others, because HenryHenryHenry; who cares about number of wars or who has more to lose when Henry is waiting for her? But she can’t trust Hook either, so she tells Mulan to cut the beanstalk down in ten hours if she’s not back down, makes her promise to bring Mary Margaret home.

Hook smiles cheekily at her, I was hoping it would be you, and she rolls her eyes as he puts the cuff around her wrist.

“I can’t climb one-handed, can I?” He protests, and begrudgingly, she gives him the hook, but, “Don’t think I’m taking my eyes off you for a second,” she warns.

He simply smiles, I would despair if you did, and up they climb.

3.

He’s talking.

She’ll ignore him, she will ignore him, she will ignore him, she will — “I’m concentrating,” Emma finally snaps.

“No, you’re afraid,” he says, and what? The hell does she have to be afraid about? “Afraid to talk, to reveal yourself,” he slows his climb to let her catch up to his side. “To trust me.”

Trust? Really? From him, of all people? “You should be used to people not trusting you,”

Hook only rolls his eyes, ah, the pirate thing, as if it was just some afterthought. You’re something of an open book, he tells her then, and Emma can’t help but pause, can’t help the faint amusement and curiosity, because she’s been called many things in life, but open book was definitely not one of them.

“Let’s see,” he starts, voice deceptively mild, “you volunteered to come up here because you were the most motivated, you need to get back to a child,” and Emma nearly scoffs, because he’s an eavesdropper, big surprise.

“Ah, but you don’t want to abandon him the way you were abandoned,” and still, his voice is casual, as though they were just talking about the weather, but Emma stills, because how could he know —

He looks away from her briefly as he explains something about Neverland, and Lost Boys, but she’s still scrambling to cover up whatever hell hole in her walls he managed to see past. The look you get when you’ve been left alone, but she didn’t come from Neverland, she’s not from some fairytale world despite what Henry says, she was just —

“But an orphan’s an orphan,” he continues. There’s something in his voice, but she won’t focus on it before this gets into more dangerous territory, but he doesn’t seem to notice, pushing on, love has been all too rare in your life, hasn’t it, and, have you ever even been in love, and no —

— nope no no no, absolutely not, she will not go there, will not think of her stolen bug, of stolen convenience store food, of a stolen keychain, of stolen moments in stolen motel rooms, of stolen watches, of a stolen future in a cold, empty jail cell with a positive pregnancy test, of two stolen years in —

No, she answers him, because how the hell had this man managed to see right past her walls in the few hours he spent in her company, when people who’ve known her months, years, had trouble doing the same? So she pushes ahead of the climb, resolutely ignoring his too perceptive gaze burning into her, focusing on the climb to run away from the memories that were threatening to resurface.

4.

She starts to turn away from the giant, to head back to the beanstalk, compass in hand, but then, try something new, darling, is ringing in her ears, and she hesitates, glancing back at the pile of rocks Hook is trapped under.

She can’t trust him, she can’t, she tries to convince herself as she asks the giant to keep Hook trapped but unharmed for ten hours. Every instinct she has tells her that he can be trusted, that he hasn’t once lied to her. Every instinct says that she can take a chance on him, that they could be allies, friends, maybe —

No.

No, no, he’ll turn on her the first chance he gets, she tries to think rationally. But he’s grinning at her, pure exhilaration on his face, and he calls her brilliant and amazing, without any lie or underlying motive, and he stares down at the compass in awe, and she can’t help but think of how human he looks when he’s like this, so far removed from any fairytale or cocky pirate captain persona or the man who would go to any lengths for his lost love.

Hook reaches for the compass and doesn’t even look all that bothered when she pulls away, simply smiling and offering up his hand, eyes bright, face open, and come, let’s go, and she takes his hand but she can’t.

If she’s wrong about him, she could lose Henry, could lose her way to Storybrooke, he could leave her cold and empty and lost in some dead realm, reminiscent of a cold and empty jail cell, lost for two years in Tallahassee.

She stares back at his bright and open face, watches as he gives her a tiny, encouraging nod.

She has no reason to be wrong about him.

She closes the shackles around his wrist.

His face goes slack with the shock, and it has her up and scrambling back out of his reach.

What are you doing, the way his voice trembles in his attempt to stay calm only serves to make her feel worse, eyes falling away from him. Her voice fails her as she tries to explain, explain that — that he — that she can’t—

“Emma, look at me,” he pleads, “have I told you a lie?”

He hasn’t. Not since she called him out on the blacksmith act, since she put a knife to his throat, since she tied him to a tree, and left him to ogres until she heard him call out to her, good for you, irritated and a little sulky and just a bit of grudging respect.

He didn’t lie when he smiled down at her, I was hoping it would be you, didn’t lie when he called her an open book, when he bandaged her hand with his scarf with a no, it’s not, or when she pressed him about the name on his wrist, despite the way he had shut down fast, faster than anything else she had seen from him yet.

His voice is still calm as he tries to reason with her, why do this to me now, gaze steady, as though it can still be easily brushed aside if she just lets him go, but —

“I can’t take the chance that I’m wrong about you,” because despite what her instincts say, she refuses to take that step (refuses to try something new), and “I’m sorry,” because she is. But he turned so quick on Cora, he could do just the same to them, turn back to Cora with the compass, and —

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry?” Hook pulls against the chain as he tries to move closer, voice furious. She’s shutting down, and fast. She can’t let him change her mind, she can’t take that chance, the chance she’s wrong, the chance of him betraying her, the chance of losing her way to Henry, the chance on him.

“And you’re not gonna die,” she refutes him, “I just need a head start, that’s all.”

And she’s turning away from him, walking back to the beanstalk, and he’s calling out to her, furious and desperate (betrayed, abandoned) but she won’t, she can’t look back, because —

She shuts her eyes against his shouts.

She leaves him behind.

(Because, despite her rationalizing, the more her instincts say he can be trusted, the more she wants to take that chance, to listen to her gut, to — to —

The more it terrified her. The more she needs to distance herself. What better way than to leave him in chains in some cold, empty room with a giant?)

5.

The compass disappears from her hand, and appears in Cora’s as she stares gleefully at it.

No.

No, what — ?

Emma pushes uselessly at the cell gates as Cora thanks Aurora for her help.

Thanks Auro—?

What?

She turns on her, furious, how would you do this, but she registers belatedly that Aurora looks as bewildered as them, and Cora’s crooning voice only confirms this as she pulls out a red, pulsing, beating heart. “You took her heart?” She stares, horrified. This — this is what it means when Regina — when Graham — when —

“Actually, I did,” Hook corrected her, voice low. Emma turns to him then, having tried and failed to ignore him leaning casually against the wall, staring fixatedly down at his hook, “it was a gift.” He finally turns to face them. He doesn’t say anything more, face completely closed off in a way she hasn’t seen on him aside from when she had asked about Milah, doesn’t flinch as Cora clenches her fist, Aurora crumpling in pain, doesn’t move until Cora passes him, pushing off the wall to follow.

“Hook,” she tried, desperate. She can’t lose the compass, lose Henry. “Wait,”

He pauses.

She breathed shakily, a desperate, irrational swell of hope as he turns to face her. “Please don’t do this, my son is in Storybrooke, he needs me.”

He moved towards her then, slow, measured steps, and just from the look on his face she knows she fucked up. “Perhaps you should have considered that before you abandoned me on that beanstalk,” his tone low and dangerous.

She shakes her head because that — it’s not — because — you would’ve done the same, and she keeps her grip against the bars, keeps her voice cool and knowing.

“Actually no.”

It’s said flatly, just plain fact.

That — that can’t be right.

She left him behind before he could do it to her, before he could do what he’s doing now, except—

He’s pulling out a bean on some sort of necklace, and she reaches desperately for it, unsuccessful, and this is a symbol, dangling the bean just in front of her, “something that was once magical, and full of hope, possibility... Now look at it,” once again his voice is deceptive, mild and unassuming, and she follows his gaze. “Dried up, dead. Useless. Much like you,”

He’s walking away, Emma realizes with increasing panic. Is this how he felt?

Just as I’m done with you, is this revenge for the way she left him chained up on the beanstalk, helpless but to watch her retreating back? Fitting, she thinks dimly to herself, watching him walk away.

He did betray her, just as she thought (because she did it first), and she thinks of her way back to Henry, fading with each step Hook takes away from them, thinks dimly of trying to call out to him (just as he did to her), thinks dimly of what could’ve happened if she had trusted him, trusted herself, would she still have wound up here, thinks dimly of how flat Hook’s words were to her, how closed off, a complete turn from the start of their climb up the beanstalk, thinks I did this, I did that to him, I got us caught in this trap —

She thinks maybe she should have trusted him, but now she won’t get a chance to right that wrong, doesn’t even know if she would want to if she got the chance.

6.

How could you not? You don’t believe in your parents. Or in magic. Or even yourself.

Goddamn Rumplestiltskin — Gold — whatever his name was now.

When have you ever taken a real leap of faith?

Because what they needed right now — when Henry was missing — was to separate.

You’re still just that bail-bonds person.

What the hell did he know, Emma thought bitterly, the burn in her muscles not doing anything to clear her mind. She paused a moment to catch her breath, pushing back the swell of frustration, the burning in her throat. Henry is missing. That’s the fact of the matter. This is no time to doubt herself, to —

“Aw, don’t stop on my account.”

Hook.

Of course. Because she needed more things on her mind, needed more questions she couldn’t find the answer to. “What are you doing?”

Getting ready for a fight, she manages to ground out, ignoring Hook’s quip, because like hell she would tell him that she was doing her own equivalent of a pep talk, of going through mindless, repetitive motions to try to clear her mind of Gold’s words, or tell him that she was starting to believe them, not because Gold had said it flat to her face, but because it was all already in her head.

And in what is starting to become a frustrating pattern, she doesn’t need to tell him anyway.

“Don’t let Rumplestiltskin get you down, love,” is said gently, free of any judgement, and dammit, how does he see through her so easily (open book), he had done it on the beanstalk, done it in Granny’s with a simple why are you really doing this, and the more time she spends in his presence, the more she understood the weight of her own words when Emma had told him you and I, we understand each other — God, was that just a couple hours ago?

“What do you want?” Because there was no chance she was going to go further with this. He pulls out a key as he starts to talk about Neal.

Yes, because an even better topic conversation with the man who can read her like no one else was her recently killed ex who she still has a shit ton of mixed and complicated feelings for.

Hook offers her a sword, then, a quiet this was his, has her looking up and taking a look at his face.

Emma might have a harder time understanding his particular motives right now, but she is not the only open book on this ship, she thinks, noting the way his eyes don’t meet hers, the way his head sways, the edge to his I’m not when she accuses him of being sentimental. What a terrible liar, she muses, trying to ignore the warm feeling starting to replacing the cold dread that Gold’s words had left.

“I just thought you could use it where we’re going, you know,” he hands her a shot glass, and Hook may be a terrible liar, but he’s certainly good at deflecting, she thinks, as he drawls out, “to fight.”

He pours her some rum, and somehow, the moment the glass was filled, she realizes that this was exactly what she needed. Not some pull ups to get ready for a fight, not to talk about her feelings with her parents, not pointless reassurances or empty promises and words. Just a moment to take a breath and process, free of outside influence. Thanks.

“To Neal,” Hook offers simply, and they toast and they drink and they sit in silence, and it is ridiculous how easy it is to be in his presence.

He comes with no expectations of who she should be, no underlying disappointment throughout every interaction when she is nothing expected, no pressure to be a lost daughter, or a mother who lost ten years with her son, or Neal’s ex, or some savior responsible for everyone’s happiness, or princess, or even a bail-bonds person.

With him, she simply is.

So she asks about Neal, because she can’t imagine him young and a teenager, playing pirate with Hook, because no matter how much he had broken her heart, how much just his name reminds her of the cold metal of a cuff around her ankle as she gave birth, or the cold metal of the watch on her wrist that night, being in Neal’s presence made her feel sixteen and recklessly in love again, and seeing him die made her wish for better closure, and being in Hook’s presence was easy and calming, and he was the only other person she knows who she could talk to about Neal.

(who she feels she could someday tell the whole story of her and Neal, without judgement or expectation or suggestions to forgive and forget)

Naturally, Hook sees right through her question, and true to form, as she is starting to learn, answers plainly and free of judgement or amusement or those stupid sympathetic looks that make her want to hit something. “Long enough to know I miss him, too.”

Their eyes meet. No more words are said, and it is quiet. The room is heavy. And it is easy.

7.

“Hook,” David says as soon as he separates from Mary Margaret. “He saved my life.”

Emma’s heart skips a few beats, focusing sharply on David, trying to find any injuries.

“Are you sure you wanna tell them that, mate?” Hook asks him cautiously, but Emma is far too worried about the idea that those two were in any situation at all that called for someone’s life being saved. Are they alright, what happened?

“On our trek,” David starts, “we were ambushed by Lost Boys. Pinned down, outnumbered, but Hook — he risked his life to stop me from getting hit by a poisoned arrow.”

He what? Now she turns to look at Hook, but he shifts uncomfortably, looking away from them all, forcing up a short smile as David approaches. “If it wasn’t for Hook, I wouldn’t be alive. Your flask, please,” Hook seems to be able to meet only David’s eyes as he hands him the flask. I thought he deserved a little credit.

Only now does Emma’s heart slow down a bit, because just how close had she come to losing her friend — her father? Thank you, Hook manages, but still looks supremely uncertain and uncomfortable, even with the gratefulness softening it just a bit. They pass the rum about, but Emma can’t help but stare.

Once again he surprises her, and once again, she sees that honorable gentleman peeking out from underneath that cocky pirate captain persona. She saw it when he took her hand, insisting on bandaging it, when he had smiled at her, so bright and open, her heart had skipped a beat, saw it when he had put himself to pains to reach for Aurora’s heart, when he had so blatantly thrown their fight at Lake Nostos (No way did she beat a pirate in a sword fight when she had only held a sword for a week), saw it when he turned his ship around, gave her the bean with a simple, maybe I just needed reminding that I could, saw it below the decks of his ship when he offered her Neal’s sword and they drank a toast to his memory.

To Hook, she murmurs, taking a swig of the rum, before turning back to him as the others return back to their camp.

He is turned away from her completely, staring fixatedly on a tree, and the words come out before she can stop herself, “D’you really save his life?”

“Does that surprise you?” he asks, and he barely glances at her before turning back to the tree. She gives back the rum.

“Well, you and David aren’t exactly... how do you say it? Mates,” she mimics his accent, expecting a smirk or a small laugh.

Instead, he finally turns to face her, serious and honest, “Doesn’t mean I’d leave your father to perish on this island.”

Thank you, is all she can say to the sincerity in his eyes and voice.

A slow, teasing grin spreads across his face, and she knows he’s putting up an act, directing their conversation to something much lighter, but regardless, Emma feels the mood lighten almost immediately, feels herself start to feel just a bit giddy, giddy from speaking to Henry, from David and Hook making it back safe, despite the sextant, from the rum, from this man standing across her, who constantly keeps her and her expectations on its toes, who she’s felt connected to since they climbed the damn beanstalk and he revealed just a bit of himself when he tied that damn scarf with his damn mouth, and turned his ship around and offered his assistance in helping Henry when there was nothing in it for him.

Perhaps gratitude is in order now, he muses, tapping his lips with his finger, and she can’t help but return his teasing smile, because “Yeah, that’s what the thank you was for,” but he just makes a quiet noise in the back of his throat as he takes just another step forward.

“Is that all your father’s life is worth to you?” Hook asks, and that giddiness seems to swell just a bit more, because, he saved David’s life. He turned his ship around, gave her Neal’s sword, gives advice freely, directed them to Tinkerbell, showed them what plants are safe to eat and which to avoid, even with all the doubts the others throw his way, and all the while, he simply turns to her, smiles, calls her excellent, backs all her ideas, and never once does he seem to doubt her.

“Please, you couldn’t handle it,”

“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it,”

He pops the t, the corner of his lips tugging up, and he stares at her with bright, open blue eyes, so so reminiscent of the look he had given her when she pulled him out of the rubble, calling her brilliant and amazing, and asking to see the compass, and offering his hand up to her.

She should leave.

She should walk away now, head back to David and Mary Margaret and Regina.

Oh, fuck it.

Her hands close around the collar of his coat, dragging him in for a kiss even before she could finish the thought. She keeps a death grip on his collar as the other winds up in his ridiculously soft hair, and his lips taste of rum and Neverland fruits, and he doesn’t move for a moment, far too surprised, before his hand comes up her own hair and he breathes in harshly through his nose and he responds, and oh.

Hook kisses the same way he does just about anything else; with everything he has. It has her burning, because he kisses like he’s challenging her, kisses like a drowning man taking a breath for the first time, kisses like she’s the sun and he hasn’t seen daylight in years, kisses like he’ll never kiss anyone again.

They separate, but their foreheads are pressed together, and she still has a death grip on his coat, and they are breathing harshly, and all she can think is, oh.

That was —

“That was...” and he sounds wrecked, stunned, as if he hasn’t just given her the best kiss of her life, and oh, oh, oh, oh no, but even with the growing panic, she feels good, and he feels good, and they feel good together, and —

A one-time thing, she forces herself to step away, to turn and head back into camp, and she makes the mistake of looking at his face, as stunned and wrecked as he sounds, brow furrowing at her words, and the words taste a bit wrong in her mouth, tastes like a lie, but it can’t be a lie, because there’s no chance she’s letting herself —

“Don’t follow me,” she instructs him, not letting herself look at him again, “Wait five minutes, go get some firewood or something.”

“As you wish,” he calls at her back, and the smile that spreads on her face is completely involuntary.

Her heart is still pounding, lips still burning, and she still feels so so good, for the first time since Henry was taken, she was in some semblance of a good mood, and he was the one to put it there, with his stupid easy faith, stupid smiles and compliments and suggestions, urging her to find a way to speak to Henry, and saving David’s life, and the stupid way he doesn’t even expect anything back, not even acknowledgement, and the stupid, goddamn way he kisses like his life depends on it, why the hell does he kiss like that.

What the hell made her think kissing him would be a good idea? She can panic about this later.

(She can still taste the rum and fruits.)

(She thinks maybe she really couldn’t handle it.)

8.

The whole Neal thing isn’t enough to distract from the burn on her lips, the memory of those bright, open blue eyes, or the teasing voice, or that damn kiss, like Hook was breathing air for the first time.

“I kissed him,” Emma blurts out the moment she and Mary Margaret are out of earshot from David and Hook.

“What?” she asks, “Who?” As if there’s an abundance of options she has of people to kiss.

“Hook, I kissed Hook,” and the memory of his lips on hers are still so fresh, the taste of rum and fruits, that bright, giddy feeling he had managed to bring out of her still echoing in her chest, even as the thought of finding Neal makes her heart ache.

“Oh,” says Mary Margaret, voice high, with surprise or suspended judgement or maybe both, maybe neither, Emma doesn’t know, “Wh-why?”

Because he sees her and has no expectations for her, because he doesn’t lie to her, because of the way he had smiled at her, the teasing lilt to his voice, the easy faith he puts on her, because he came back and offered to help save Henry, saved David, and because they shared a drink, shared moments on the ship, on the beanstalk, in this damn island, because try as he might, he just can’t hide that gentleman underneath the selfish pirate persona.

I don’t know, she says instead, “I-I was — it’s been a while, I was feeling good —“

“Did it mean anything?”

Yes, she thinks instinctively, except she doesn’t know what it means, doesn’t even know why she brought it up, because it was a one-time thing, and, it was just a kiss, because it should have just been a kiss, but her voice is starting to pitch defensively, completely involuntary, and she can still feel the pull of his lips on hers, the taste of fruit and rum, and the way he had kissed like —

“I’m sure Neal will understand,” completely falters her thoughts, because the hell does Neal have anything to do wi—

Oh, right, they’re on their way now to rescue her apparently not-so-dead-ex, the father of her son, who she said I love you to right before he fell into the portal, and she had just told her mother she kissed another man. It must seem like Emma was worried about what Neal might think, which — No. “If he’s still alive,”

“Emma, I get what you’re doing, you know,” says Mary Margaret carefully, “you don’t wanna open yourself up the the hope that he’s alive, but you should,” completely stops her in her tracks.

Why, She stares at Mary Margaret, heart sinking.

She had wanted some closure from Neal, yes, she deserved that closure after all that he’s done to her, the memory of that damn alleyway, cuffs closing around her wrists, and months in a cell with nothing but a keychain, car keys, and a positive pregnancy test, the way she couldn’t even bear to look at her son after she gave birth because then she’d never be able to let him go, to give him a life he deserves, the two years in Tallahassee waiting, just waiting, had her building up her walls higher and thicker than when she had left the system.

But with Neal gone, Emma had thought she could finally let it go, move past that part of her life, could live without the constant worry she had lived with for years that she would see him again someday, except she did, in possibly the worst way, slamming into him in some New York alleyway, with him getting mad at her for bringing Gold to him, scoffing and dismissing her like she was still sixteen and he hadn’t set her up to take the fall fo his crime. No, then he followed he back to Storybrooke with a fiancée who wound up kidnapping Henry for Peter Pan, even as he and her parents had dismissed all her suspicions as some petty jealousy.

No, she wanted to get closure and move on. She wasn’t sixteen and in love with the cool, older guy who had understood her anymore. She didn't want to feel sixteen anymore. She wanted to feel at ease, like she feels around Henry and his endless faith and belief in everything, around Mary Margaret before things became so much more complicated, around Hook, of all people, when he offers her a drink, when compliments and praise slip freely from his lips but seems to expects nothing in return, when he is always so open and easy to read when they are alone, when he reads her unnervingly well, not needing her to speak her doubts before he replaces it with that easy faith and a small smile.

“Because you deserve a happy ending, Emma,” Mary Margaret turns to face her, earnest, “and happy endings always start with hope,”

But what did it mean if the only hope she feels regarding Neal is the dark, grim hope that this was just a trick?

9.

“I thought Emma would wish to have something to remember you by,” Hook’s voice is terse.

“Oh, thanks, but she’s got me now,” and what? The hell is this about?

She holds out an arm to stop Hook from following Neal, woah, what was that about, but Hook is standoffish, can’t meet her eyes right, and dammit, he’s been having difficulty doing that since the Echo Caves. His words are halting, tense and just a bit uncomfortable, “I assumed he heard my secret, I also assumed you told him of our shared moment,”

“Why would you assume that,” she asks sharply. This time, he has no trouble holding her gaze, because I was hoping it meant something, but that is not the point, that is not what meant something, because it occurs to her that the only time Pan could’ve told him about Neal was immediately after their kiss, and still — “What meant something was that you told us Neal was still alive. Thank you,” she seems to be saying that to him a lot, and each time, she means it more and more. “Otherwise you could’ve kept Pan’s information to yourself.”

“Why would I have done that?” he asks genuinely, as though it never once occurred to him, as though he didn’t have everything to gain and nothing to lose if he kept the information to himself.

“Maybe Pan offered you a deal, why else would he tell you?”

“It was a test,” he says simply, unbothered, “he wanted to see if I’d leave an old friend to die, even if that old friend happens to be vying for the same woman I am,”

She stares, and thinks of how refreshing it is to speak with him, the way he doesn’t beat around the bush, the way he states his intentions plainly, never bothering with a lie, thinks of that gentleman he mentioned once, so long ago, shining through again, always there, underlying most of his actions, “And you chose your friend,” she doesn’t mean to sound so surprised.

He only shrugs, “Does that surprise you?”

She thinks she’s more surprised by how unsurprised she is.

Emma has learned so much more about Hook in their short time together, thinks of how easy it always is to be with him, to speak with him, to understand him, because he never says the words, but she knows the reason she is an open book to him is the same reason he is an open book to her.

You are a pirate, she says instead, smiling at him, wanting him to smile back, to laugh, but when he does, it is tinged with an uncharacteristic self-deprecation, yeah, that I am, and he looks down, looks away from her, and Emma thinks he shouldn’t sound like that (thinks she doesn’t want him to sound like that).

He takes a step closer, and somehow, she doesn’t feel even slightly uncomfortable by his closeness, by his openness, his sincerity, “But I also believe in good form. So when I win your heart, Emma — and I will win it. It will not be because of any trickery. It will be because you want me.”

She’s already known this, deep down. He never mentioned saving David voluntarily, even cautioned against David’s acknowledgement, he decided to be the first to speak his secret, to bear his heart to save Neal, never once bringing it up as a point of praise, and he’s so so honest, expecting nothing in return, simply happy to lay his heart down in her hands. She has to turn this conversation away from the direction it’s going, she has no time to examine her own feelings and desires, not while Henry is still in danger, she isn’t nearly as brave enough to examine herself, too scared to find out what that answer may be, where it may lead her to, and she’s nowhere near as brave as Hook to simply put herself out there like he is. “This is not a contest, Hook,”

“Isn’t it?” he questions mildly, “You’re gonna have to choose, Emma. You realize that, don’t you? Because neither one of us is gonna give up,” he gestures towards Neal’s general direction, but —

“The only thing I have to choose is the best way to get my son back,” she corrects him, because Henry will always be her priority, now, on Neverland when he’s in constant danger, back in Storybrooke where he is happy and surrounded by family, even regardless of whatever danger Storybrooke winds up in, and even when there’s no danger to be had.

“And you will,” says Hook simply, as though there isn’t even a single shred of doubt in his mind, and once again, Emma is struck by his simple faith. The answer is plain on his face, in his voice, in the silence of her lie detector, but somehow, the quiet doubt constantly on the back of her mind is calling out to her, and she can’t help but ask, can’t help the creeping vulnerability, you think so, because she has the feeling he wouldn’t laugh, wouldn’t brush it away, or mock or whatever else.

I’ve yet to see you fail, and there’s a shadow of a smile on his face as he stares back at her, but Emma knows it’s not a smile of mocking, “and when you do succeed,” he continues, uses when because in his mind, her victory is already guaranteed, no matter if they have no concrete plan to get to Henry, to defeat Pan, to leave Neverland, “well, that’s when the fun begins,” and he’s smiling properly now.

“Guys!” Neal calls out then, and Hook’s eyes dart to somewhere behind her, his face smooths out into his usual vaguely disinterested expression, hiding away the heart he so easily opens when they’re alone, but Emma is slow to tear her eyes away from him, because she still shaken, moved by his confidence and belief in her, the same that she’s only ever seen on Henry, with his unfaltering faith in the goodness of people, even ones he’s called evil, with his but I believe in you, before he collapsed and leaving her in panic and believing in magic, for him.

(She thinks she could be in serious trouble with this man.)

(She thinks she might already be in serious trouble with this man.)

10.

Emma doesn’t want to leave. Not when she had finally found her parents, found her son, found a place she could belong (a place she could call home). She’s barely holding back her tears, can see Henry doing the same, and they’re at the town line, her Bug already at the edge, but she doesn’t want to go.

Hook approaches her as soon as she moves away from the crowd, and she starts to feel even worse.

She doesn’t know what to say to him, what she wants him to know, and judging by his uncertain expression, he feels the same.

“That’s quite the vessel you captain there, Swan,” he attempts lightly, and it brings out a smile from her, however shaky, because he always seems to be able to do that to her.

She doesn’t know what she wants to say to him, but she knows she could very possibly regret not saying anything at all more than anything else.

If she has to leave, if she can never see him again, Emma knows she has to say goodbye, knows she owes it to him, owes it to herself, owes it to them.

But the smile fades from his face, and he looks about the same as she feels, and “There’s not a day that will go by that I won’t think of you,” and she knows he is not lying, does not need to use her superpower with him because he wears his damn heart on his sleeve when it comes to her, because if there’s one thing she can count on, it’s Captain Hook — Killian Jones’ honor and dedication and honesty, knows that when he makes a promise, he keeps it, and she doesn’t even have to look much further than how they met, him dedicating himself to centuries avenging an old love.

There was something building between them, she knows. It’s why she ran from him in the first place so long ago on the beanstalk. She doesn’t need his open honesty about his feelings, doesn’t need the Echo Caves to know. She was in trouble with him from the start, since he read her like an open book, and she ran from it, and she knew the moment she kissed him that whatever it was, it wasn’t something she could keep running from forever.

Until now.

(Until she felt that she might not really want to run anymore.)

But even now, when they’ll never see each other again, when there’s no consequence to keeping his heart hidden from her, he tells her the truth, tells her he won’t stop thinking of her, and she thinks, for once, he deserves some honesty in return, because she may not know what she feels for him, may not return whatever it is he feels for her, but dammit she cares about him, and she’s going to miss him. So she says good, because that’s all she can manage to say, but he still manages to understand her meaning, and he smiles, and steps back.

(She thinks her heart might just break a bit more.)

They may never know what it was that was building, but she has never met another person she could understand so well, who could understand her so well, who she feels she could someday let her walls down for, who she felt truly connected with.

She never knew what kindred spirits meant until she met him.

But then Regina says she and Henry will lose their memories, lose the years they spent in Storybrooke, lose the knowledge that she had found her family, the knowledge that she was wanted, and that Henry has more family than he could possibly know to do with, but could still easily love enough to fill his big heart, and her own heart breaks, breaks for her son, for herself, for her parents and Regina, who can’t even have the comfort that they would be thinking about them, and for Hook, who had promised her everyday but she can’t even return the favor for one more day.

(somehow, she knows, even without her memories, she would have regretted not saying goodby to Hook.)

But they are out of time, and she and Henry get into the Bug, and she starts driving.

She can feel her parents gaze, can feel Hook’s eyes, can feel her memories fading, being replaced, but she holds on as long as she can, until there’s nothing left to hold on to.

(She wonders, later, at the incredible sense of loss she feels, wonders at her acquired taste for rum, wonders at the melancholy she feels when she stares out at the ocean, or when she watches Disney movies with Henry, wonders why everything just feels wrong, feels like there’s something missing.)

11.

Emma had started to wonder who was more insane; the madman dressed head-to-toe in leather rambling about curses and family — or her for thinking, for feeling, that some part of what he’s saying actually made sense.

The moment he had turned up, nothing felt right anymore (nothing had felt right all year), felt strangely like she had known the man who showed up at her door, felt very much insane for actually leaning into the kiss for a split second, felt like she wanted to trust him, felt so much like she was missing something, something so, so, important.

Except nothing the man had said made any sort of logical sense, and she can’t get him out of her thoughts, her head, and Walsh’s proposal wasn’t helping her keep her head straight, and even when she’s throwing him in jail, she can’t help but seek him out again. But she needs answers, and he’s just pleading with her to take a baseless leap of faith, to trust him, trust herself, and he hasn’t lied once to her, no matter how insane the words spilling from his lips are.

(Everything in her is telling her to do it, to try something new.)

“As much as you deny it, deep down, you know something’s wrong, deep down, you know I’m right,” he insists, but it’s not possible, and how could she forget all of this?

He pulls out that tiny blue vial again, offers it out to her again, and again, Emma is struck by the strange familiarity of the action struck by the feeling that she knows what it feels for him to offer a drink, (for her to take it). “If you drink this it will,” he says quietly, and it’s all insane, he is insane, and she must be insane for wanting to take it, because —

“If — if what you’re saying is true... I’d have to give up my life here,”

“It’s all based on lies,” he insists.

“It’s real,” she protests, “and it’s pretty good! I have Henry, a job — a guy I love!”

His face falls, and he looks down at the grown as though he can’t meet her eyes, as though it will give him something to say, give him courage, and “Perhaps there’s a man that you love in the life that you’ve lost,” and Emma —

Stares. He’s talking about himself, she realizes. Knows it in herself, knows it like she knows anything else, although, perhaps that’s the wrong analogy now that he’s turned her life upside down in the span of a day.

“Regardless,” he plows on, as though he hadn’t really meant to reveal so much, like he’s trying to cover up his vulnerabilities, cover up the heart he hadn’t meant to open up to her, “if you wanna find the truth, drink up. Do you really want to live a life of lies? You know this isn’t right, trust your gut, Swan, it will tell you what to do,”

“Henry always says that,” she says quietly, staring at him, and he stares back, open, honest, earnest, and she thinks that maybe her resolve has crumbled.

“Then if you won’t listen to me, listen to your boy,”

Emma has no reasons left, not when he clearly means well, not when all her instincts are saying he can be trusted, that she can take a leap of faith with him, not when he’s looking at her like that, not when both he and Henry trust her to trust herself, when he had — intentionally or not — revealed himself to her with a man that you love in the life that you’ve lost.

So she takes the vial and drinks and —

She remembers, remembers lighting a candle on a cupcake, remembers Henry smiling at her on her doorstep, remembers Storybrooke, the clocktower moving, the dragon she fought when she finally believed, remembers Henry, cold and pale and lifeless until he woke with a kiss, remembers her parents, Neal, shot, falling through the portal, remembers Hook, the way he had looked at her at Echo Caves, remembers saying goodbye, remembers leaving —

She hadn’t even realized she had closed her eyes until she opens them, sees Hook watching her, anxious, worried, and oh, “Hook,” she breathes out, and he lights up at her, smiles like everything is okay, alright.

“Did you miss me?” he grins, and Emma wonders if it’s possible to have missed something she never even knew she had lost, but she remembers now, remembers the drinks they shared, the moments they had alone, the words and promises given, remembers the times she had wondered why she suddenly had a taste for rum, had a strange sense of melancholy whenever she took Henry to the seaside, knows now that yes some part of her had missed him even when she didn’t know she had lost h—

(He is not hers to lose, she reminds herself.)

(But she also remembers ‘until I met you’, remembers ‘when I win your heart’, remembers ‘not a day will go by’, and she simply knows, knows from the way he looks at her now that he had kept that promise, and she thinks, somewhere deep, deep down, that he just might disagree with that.

She wonders at how she is more scared at the fact she isn’t as scared at that as she should be.)

Later they are sat at her apartment, and she sets down two glasses and a bottle of rum as he recounts what happened after their return to the Enchanted Forest, recounts his return to piracy, and “Glad to see you haven’t changed,” she quips, because her mind is still reeling, the sudden simplicity and comfort of her life the past year twisted upside down, the sinking feeling that her memories of holding Henry as a baby, of changing her mind, of taking care of him and raising him are just stories, and nothing feels real anymore, nothing feels right, and if just one thing, just one person could still be the same, that would be very much appreciated.

But Hook only picks up his glass, “There wasn’t anything for me in the Enchanted Forest,” he says simply, “Why would I stay?”

And Emma has nothing she can think of saying, but she wants to say something, because again, he’s talking about her, knows he is, even if he never says the words, thinks (hopes) he hadn’t just disappeared off all on his own, thinks maybe he doesn’t do all that well on his own, thinks of the centuries he had spent on revenge for his first love, thinks of the promise he had made her in Neverland and at the town line, and thinks just maybe —

She opens her mouth, but before she can scrounge up something to say, he tilts his glass for a toast, and she falters, tapping her own glass to his. “And all was well,” he continues, leaning back in his seat, “until I got a message, a message saying there was a new curse, and everyone had been returned to Storybrooke, the message told me that the only hope — was you,”

“You came all the way back here to save my family?” she doesn’t mean for it to sound so doubting, but once again, there was absolutely nothing in it for him, he clearly hadn’t even been caught up in the curse, hadn’t even been with any of them for a year, yet he had gone to pains to track her down in New York, gone to pains to keep trying to convince her to trust him, no matter how long it had taken, how many times she called him crazy, or had slammed the door in his face, or left him to prison.

I came back to save you, is said plainly, so matter of factly that it nearly sounded flat, and Emma doesn’t know what to say to that, because again, he isn’t expecting praise or gratitude, isn’t saying it for anything other than to keep honest with her, because he had again, come back for her, because even back in Neverland he never kept his feelings a secret from her and she can’t even bring herself to return the favor, because he isn’t even expecting her to return the favor, and just how had he managed to find her, get to her?

So instead, she asks him who could’ve done this, but he knows just about as much as she does, alas, you’re the Savior, not me, and he downs the rest of his rum, but Emma can’t help but laugh, because, “You know what I was yesterday? A mother. Until you showed up and started poking holes into everything I thought was real. Drinking that potion was like waking up from a dream — a really good dream,”

She wonders at how easy it is to confide this to him.

“Well you have what matters most — your son,”

“Now I have to figure out how to explain this to him,”

Hook looks apologetic, “Alas, I could only scavenge together enough for one dose of memory potion,”

“I’d better start figuring out what I’m gonna tell him,” she replied quietly, and dammit how the hell had her life just gotten so much harder, so much more complicated in a single day? She has no idea what to even say to Henry, how to make this not sound absolutely insane, and —

The door buzzes, and Hook asks who it is, but oh shit how had she forgotten about Walsh? Henry invited him, she explains, and Hook turns, offers to get rid of him, but her life may not have been real, her memories all jumbled up and twisted and messy right now, but whatever lives she and Henry had made this past year was real, the eight months she spent with Walsh was real, and I owe him an explanation, even if she doesn’t know what that explanation is, or even where to begin.

“What are you going to say to him?” Hook asks, and Emma just feels very tired, just wants to take a damn moment to process everything, take a moment without having to figure out how to explain this insanity to Walsh or Henry, but Hook has been honest to her, and the least she can do is return that honesty.

“I don’t know. But I care about him too much to drag him into all this. Wait here,” she requests.

But turns out she hadn’t needed to think of something to say to Walsh, because Walsh is a fucking flying monkey and Walsh had just tried to kill her, because of course. Why had she even thought that having some semblance of a normal life would be possible for her?

Hook comes bursting through the door to the rooftop, calling out to her in worry, because of course he did, what the blazes was that, but Emma just feels the betrayal, the grief, rage, bitterness swelling up, and maybe the stress of the whole day is getting to her, because again, she just answers him honestly, “A reminder. That I was never safe, that what I wanted — what I thought I could have was not in the cards for the Savior,”

The way he looks at her just makes her feel a bit worse, like he knows exactly what she’s referring to, like he wants to disagree but wouldn’t know if he would be overstepping, like he wants to say something but doesn’t know what, but she’s exhausted, drained from the day, from finding out her life is a lie, from Walsh, so she pushes past him, “We leave in the morning.”

(The next morning Hook pounds on the door, she lets him saunter in and he greets her with a wide grin, looks amused at Henry asking if he skipped bail, looks offended at the slight against his clothes, and she calls him Killian for the first time, it’s strange how right it feels to use his name, no matter how wrong it feels lying to Henry, and she reaches for her red leather jacket, reaches for her armor, because she needs it after Walsh, after how her life turned out to be wrong, after how easy it was to confide in Hook.)

(Somehow, she feels that not even her armor can help her much when it comes to Hook.)

12.

“You’ll look for any excuse to use that thing, won’t you?” Emma doesn’t bother hiding her amusement as Hook shakes at the berries with his — well, hook.

“At least we know we’re in the right place, what now?”

“Now we start searching.”

“You know something, Swan,” he starts lightly, “whenever you’re around, I inevitably find myself trekking through some manner of woods or forest courting danger,” he drawls.

“And here I thought you weren’t afraid of anything, always looking for the next adventure,”

“Oh, is that what this is?” he questions her.

“Isn’t it? The hell were you doing for the last year alone on that ship? I’m guessing it was one swashbuckling tale after another. Until you decided to come back and save me,”

She isn’t being fair to him, she knows. But something happened to him in the past year, something has that melancholy constantly in his eyes shining even stronger, something he’s hiding from her, and Walsh is still fresh in her mind, just one more person she had opened her heart to, only to have been hiding something, only to have been lying, just one more person she hadn’t expected the worst from, only to turn around and betray her, and the bitterness at the memory is just rising, frustration from everything going on building, and she still doesn’t know why he came for her.

She isn’t being fair to him, Emma smiles bitterly, because Hook may not be lying, but he’s certainly hiding something from her, and she’s incredibly tired of people not being who they say they are, and fuck she’s stressed and frustrated, frustrated from Walsh, from the lack of answers, from the new curse, her false memories, lying to Henry, and Killian is right there.

“Exactly,” he answers her shortly, and Emma thinks this is the first time he’s really lied to her since they met, and her frustration grows. She isn’t being fair to him but she’s too frustrated to care right now, you’re lying, she turns, confronts him, and Hook’s eyes go flat. “Excuse me?”

“What happened back there, what aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing,” he says cooly, “It’s my tale and I’m sticking to it,” but I still don’t believe you, and she’s only half aware of why she’s still pushing it, still desperately wants answers, wants to know what was so bad that he’s lying to her, wants to know what he’s been doing, how far he had to go to find her, why he went through all that trouble to return her memories, return her to Storybrooke, why he came for her at all, because as much as she wants to trust him, as much as she already trusts him, experience has taught her there has to be more.

But he’s not budging, he’s standing tense, he sounds frustrated as well, “Let’s just leave it at that and you can just say thank you,”

“For my memories? I already did,” and then he mentions Walsh, calls it a would-be loveless marriage, and that — that wasn’t — is that — “Is that what you think you’re doing?” because as good at Hook is at making her feel good, feel at ease, he’s equally good at pushing, getting her on the defensive (just as she knows she is equally good at doing the same to him).

“He was a flying monkey,”

“I didn’t know that,”

“Were you considering it? His proposal?” he asks quietly, and why is he — does it matter, because she really doesn’t want to get into this with anyone, with him, “Humor me,” and Emma kind of wants to laugh at the situation, two people who can read each other ridiculously well, keeping their secrets close to their chest, pushing for answers, but neither willing to budge. But as frustratingly as ever, as much as she wants to shove him away, wants to keep her own feelings, own thoughts in check, he is frustratingly good at pushing her, pushing her buttons, frustratingly easy to speak to.

“Yes, okay,” she snaps, “I was in love, so of course I was considering it. But as usual, he wasn’t who he said he was, and I got my heart broken, that enough humor for you?”

Because the lies, the betrayal is still raw, because she had lived a damn good life in New York, with her son and a guy she had loved, because Hook had shown up on her doorstep and woke her up from that life, because now, once again, she’s been burned by love, betrayed by someone she trusted, because Hook is frustratingly good at bringing out all sorts of feelings she’d much rather keep locked away, because she had started pushing him for answers and in the end, she was the one spilling her secrets, and now she’s even more upset and frustrated than when they had started speaking.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m glad to hear that,” he says instead, and what? Is there any right way to take that? But because it’s Killian, she knows he means what he says, and she has already let him see past her walls, showed him a piece of her heart, so she gives him the benefit of the doubt, you’re glad to hear I had my heart broken, because she wants to know —

And he’s taking a step closer to her, “If it can be broken,” and her sharp intake of breath was completely involuntary, because he’s so close, he hasn’t been this close since their kiss, and the way he looks at her — “It means it still works,”

She had wanted answers from him, but he’s answering the wrong questions. She doesn’t need her superpower to tell he’s sincere, not with the way he’s looking at her, like he’s speaking from experience, like it’s a lesson he had recently learned (like it’s a lesson she had been the one to teach him), but she has nothing she can say, nothing she wants to say, not when he’s still hiding something, not with Walsh still fresh in her memory, in her heart, not with this damn new curse, and goddamn everything, not now.

Not when, as much as she trusts him already, trusts him to have her back, to be around Henry, she can’t trust him with her heart.

So she does what she does best and runs. (She can hear it takes him several moments to follow, wonders what he was thinking, wonders why she cares about what he thinks.)

13.

Her magic swells, and she can feel the hot cocoa in front of her disappear, shift, reappear over to the booth Killian sits in, on top of the book he’s reading, and the success has her slamming her hand down the counter in delight, “Boom! Granny’s to-go. I should open a franchise,” she sings out, because she feels great, and it’s always so easy to be with Hook, and even just thinking about him makes her think of what he did for her, for Henry, for Ariel, and she feels good, dammit.

“It’s impressive,” he offers, and what, that’s it? She settles into her seat across from him, and she wants him to look impressed, sound more impressed, but he’s been looking drawn and exhausted since he helped Ariel, and she wants him to smile at her, laugh with her, tease her, wants him lighten up, to open up about whatever is bothering him.

“Wanna see something really impressive?” she asks him, pleased smile spreading as she looks at him, and he only sighs, looking back, and nope, that isn’t lightening up, so she waves her hand, feels the surge of magic, and hears the clink of his hook falling onto the coat rack. The continued success has her giggling (god, giggling, what the hell does being in his presence do to her?).

She wants him to laugh, to smile, to make some snarky comment or casual praise, or tease her, wants to help remove whatever cloud has been settling on his shoulders, whatever it was that had him distant, closed off.

Instead, he scowls, getting up to retrieve his hook, that’s bad form, Swan, tampering with a man’s hook, and if she hadn’t already been worried for him before, she certainly would be now. “Okay, seriously, what is up with you?” she keeps her tone light, because maybe she’s reading too much into it, but she’s still curious, worried for him.

“I apologize for my rudeness,” he sighs, getting back to his seat, “It’s a long story, too long for now,” and he takes a swig from his flask, and clearly she wasn’t reading too much into it, but now she is properly worried for her best friend.

Oh god.

Emma had to stop and take a moment as it occurred to her. Because somehow, somewhere along the way, between Neverland and New York and the Wicked Witch of the West, Killian Jones, Captain Hook, had become her best friend — her confidant.

Because in this completely fucked up town filled with fairy tales, where her parents are Snow White and Prince Charming, and she’s after the Wicked Witch with her friends Belle, and the Evil Queen, and — yes, Captain Hook — for as long as she’s known him, even with his flowery language and pirate regalia and cluelessness to modern conveniences, he’s always felt the realest person around, both of them equally cynical and sarcastic, both burned by the world, both had to learn to fend for themselves early on.

How was this her life.

But regardless, something serious is bothering him, and she has confided in him many times before, back in Neverland, in New York, about Neal, about Walsh, about her doubts, her frustrations, and for once she wants to be able to return the favor, “Okay,” she starts slowly, “obviously, something’s —“

But then Belle slams the door to the Diner open, stumbling in with a great, old, massive book, calling out to her and dropping the book on the table hastily. “Zelena’s plan,” and she must’ve been running to them because she’s still panting, “I figured out what she’s doing,” and suddenly Emma has more to worry about than how Killian had managed to secure his spot as her best friend, has to take a rain check on figuring out what was wrong with him, has to push her worries aside for now.

(They may not be in the forefront of her mind, but it certainly resurfaces every time her eyes fall on him, sees the shadows in his eyes, sees the way he looks like he’s holding the weight of the world on his shoulders, sees the way he has no patience for just about anything, the way his quips are born more often from frustration than attempts at humor, and the way she doesn’t know how to help.)

14.

“I never should have brought Henry back to Storybrooke,” Emma tells Hook, because no matter how pissed of she is with him at the moment, he’s still the easiest person to talk to.

“You did what you felt was right,”

“I did what you manipulated me into,” and yeah, she isn’t being all that fair to him, knows she’s not being rational, knows it was very much her own choice, but she’s still so angry, still lashing out at him, because he lied to her, put Henry in danger, and she cursed me, and had broken her trust, and he’s talking about her parents and the town needing her, but “Henry, also needed me. We were happy in New York, and when I’m done melting this witch, I’d like us to be happy again.”

“You know, as content as you were in that city, it wasn’t real,”

“It was real for me,” she denies, “For him, everything that happened, happened,” but, as always, Hook isn’t afraid to keep pushing her, even when she’s already furious with him, when he knows she’s angry, and like it or not, a big part of you and Henry belongs in this town, but Henry had nearly died today, Neal had died in her arms, Zelena’s after her unborn sibling, Killian himself had been cursed, been turned into a weapon against her, turned into an attempt at taking her magic.

“What does the boy think?”

“He’s a kid! He wants chocolate milk in his cereal, I’m his mother, I know what’s best for him.”

“What’s best for him?” he asks, slowing his walk to face her properly, to urge her to a stop as well, and he looks rather unimpressed by any of her arguments, “or for you?”

“Excuse me?” she scoffs, pushing past him.

“You’ve taken care of the boy quite well here,” he points out, catching up to her “you talk about danger all you like, but it isn’t that. So tell me, what is it? Why are you so scared of staying? I think it’s because you can see a future here — a happy one,”

She does not want to get into this with him, doesn’t want to consider just how right he might be, doesn’t want to look any deeper for why she wants to run back to New York, so she reaches for the nearest thing she can to push him away, “Let me guess — with you?”

It hits the mark, and before Emma can even start to feel guilty at the look on his face, the look she put there, Zelena interrupts, drawling sarcastically, and Emma has no patience for her, the weeks of frustration that had been building in her, the fear for Henry, for her parents, for her sibling, the anger for Neal and Hook —

“Next time you try taking my power, why don’t yo try enchanting the lips of someone I’ll actually kiss,” she snaps at her.

“See, Emma, you’ve got a decision to make,” and Emma’s just getting more annoyed by the tone of her voice, “You can keep your magic, which makes you oh-so-sad, or you can save the man that you can’t wait to run away from,”

She barely even has time to register Zelena’s words, to question her, before Gold sends Hook flying and into a water-filled well, holding him in place, and —

Her heart leaps into her throat, any anger she had been holding on for him rapidly fading in the face of him being in danger, and she’s running for him, grasping at his shoulders, pulling and pulling, but he doesn’t budge, he’s trapped and drowning and he’s struggling, struggling, and Killian is the one drowning but Emma can’t breathe, because his fight is fading, he’s falling limp and —

“Try all you like,” Zelena calls out to her, and Emma snaps out of it, turning to her, “you can’t free him,” and Emma thinks the coldness of her voice might just be worse than the mocking, because she’s staring down at them impassively, only the faintest smirk on her face, but Killian is still underwater, and she disappears in a cloud of green, and only then does she finally, finally, pull him free.

The relief is short-lived.

She’s calling out his name, but he’s just lying there, and he’s not responding, not breathing, she’s calling his name but he still won’t wake up and he can’t die, she couldn’t handle it, Hook, wake up, she thinks of Graham, thinks of Neal, and she couldn’t bear to lose one more person she cares for, and Killian, come back to me, she doesn’t even care if she’s begging, because he’s too still, he shouldn’t be this still —

Not this man who’s always so animated, who speaks thousands of words with just a look, who wears his heart on his sleeve, who feels and shows his emotions with all his whole being, who’s constantly emphasizing his words with hand gestures or his stupidly animated eyebrows, or his deep blue eyes, who’s smile and humor always manages to brighten her own mood, who had come back for her, who keeps coming back for her.

She can’t lose him.

She has nothing to help him with, but he’s still lying in front of her, Hook, she tries again, but there’s nothing around, and she’s out of options, but they still need her magic to stop Zelena, but Killian is dying, and she thinks the last time she felt this all-consuming fear was when Henry had been cold and limp and breathless, under the sleeping curse, and when he had given his heart to Pan.

She can’t lose him.

But without her magic, they’ll be out of options, out of weapons.

See, Emma, you’ve got a decision to make.

She can’t lose him, magic be damned.

Son of a bitch, she mutters, before pinching Killian’s nose shut to give him CPR.

(As if there’s any decision to be made.)

She feels her magic drain, feels the wrongness of it, but Emma pulls back, and he’s still not breathing, and she’s starting to get desperate and she’s cradling his face, and, Hook, come back to me, she whispers, she pleads —

And then he’s twisting, coughing out water, and Emma thinks maybe she could cry from the relief, she certainly feels herself slump over a bit, and her hand comes up to cradle the back of his head just before it slams back on the ground, and he’s saying her name, and it’s shaky, it’s weak, still just a bit waterlogged, but Emma can’t remember the last time she felt so relieved, so happy to hear someone just say her name, but Hook’s hand comes up to his lips and —

“What did you do?” he asks roughly, “What did you do?” because of course he cares more about her magic than his own life, because he’s so ridiculously selfless despite what he pretends, because she had been furious at him just minutes before, had told him she couldn’t trust him anymore, didn’t give him the benefit of the doubt, because she keeps pushing him away, keeps running from him even when he’s the easiest person to talk to, confide in — maybe because he’s the easiest person to talk to.

But she won’t take this from him, not now, not when she had nearly lost him, not when she can’t bear to lose anyone else she cares for, not when all she could think of when he lay limp and lifeless was how much he means to her, his smiles and jokes and sarcasm and cynicism and even his damn broodiness, how much she couldn’t stomach the idea of losing him, losing what he is to her, even if she doesn’t know what that is yet.

Right now, right this moment, all that matters to her is that Killian is still alive, that Killian is breathing, and she’ll bask in this for now.

15.

David’s calling her.

She should answer, but she can’t think of anything to say to him, doesn’t particularly want to talk to him about this, doesn’t want to try to get him to understand. You’re making a mistake, Hook calls out, because of course he’d be the one to come after her, to follow her, and if she didn’t to speak to David about this, she definitely doesn’t want to speak to Hook, who’s far too good at knowing how to push her.

“Don’t listen to me, listen to your son,” he says, undeterred, slowing only once he’s reached her, “he thought this,” and he pulls out the stupid, goddamn storybook out of his satchel, holding it out to her, “might remind you of what you’re leaving behind — your family.”

“Henry is my family, and I am taking him where he is safe.”

“No, Swan, safety first nonsense is just that. You defeated the bloody Wicked Witch, you defeated Pan, you broke the curse — but you keep running. What are you looking for?”

Because he always seems to know that there’s more, always manages to read her fears, and really, there isn’t much point in lying to him, either, so she answers quietly, home, hopes he’ll leave it at that. Except he never does. “And that’s in New York?” he questions doubtfully. “That wasn’t real,”

Except the last year, the last year when she had some semblance of a normal life, with her son and a job (a guy she loves), and yeah, they were fake memories, but she and Henry can go back and make new memories, make it real, make it feel like home, but Hook shakes his head, “Why can’t you do that here, with your entire family?”

And her eyes fall to the storybook he’s still holding out to her, and she’s reminded, again, of the story her parents were telling her new brother, some ridiculous first meeting with a robbery, and ogres, and knights, of magic and True Love, and Emma?

Emma is no fairytale story, no outlandish adventures, no balls and gowns and crowns and ruling kingdoms — just foster home after foster home, either unwanted by the family or she herself making the decision to leave, to run. She was just a bailbonds person with a criminal record and a son from a teenage pregnancy, and she may have magic, may be from True Love, or whatever else fairytale story she hears, but that’s all they are — stories — and she snatches the book from his hands impulsively, “Because of this! I don’t see my family here, I see... fairytales, I see stories of princes and princesses and — that’s not me. I was never a part of any of this,”

Because Emma feels that if anyone can understand her, it is Hook. “Then what are you a part of, Swan?” he asks gently, because her instincts about him are rarely wrong, and she realizes, suddenly just how swapped their positions are now from the year before, when she told him he could become a part of something rather than going off and being alone.

He had done it, had helped them rescue Henry from Neverland, had found her and returned her memories, brought her to her parents, stood and helped and fought at her side, and is now — one of the heroes. And now he sits with her, asks if she is a part of something, if she would rather try and be a part of something or go off and do what she does best. “Besides being with Henry, I don’t think I’ve ever been a part of anything,” she answers him honestly.

“But you could be,” Killian finally moves to sit beside her.

Emma sighs, shutting the book, turning to face him properly. “Look, when I was a kid, I ran away, it’s just what I did,” she would get no judgement from him, she knows this, “The first time I did it, I had the same exact thought. I wondered, what if I’m making a mistake, what if I miss this place?”

“And did you?”

“Not the first time. Not any time.”

“So you just keep running,” and Emma can’t quite figure out what’s in his voice, but she has never found a home, never found a place she missed when leaving, and home is the place, when you leave, you just miss it, and she couldn’t miss what she never even remembered she had, couldn’t miss her parents or Storybrooke or Hook, not the past year, couldn’t remember if she ever, truly regretted running from some place, something, someone, and really, she doesn’t even miss New York, only the vague idea of a normal life, and until she feels that? She’ll just keep moving, keep running, keep her walls high up, keep doing what she does best, keeps being alone.

“So you’re just going to leave your parents then? Don’t you even care about them? Or anyone in this town?”

He’s not talking about the town. Emma knows this as well as she knows he had been talking about himself in New York, perhaps there’s a man that you love, but does he really not know? She still remembers him cold and lifeless, not waking up no matter how hard she shakes him, how loud she calls his name, still remembers the cold terror that she might lose him, remembers all the drinks they shared, the times he was her first thought when looking for someone to take care of Henry, remembers him sitting across from her in an empty diner, the weight of his curse leaving him distant, snappish, and all she had wanted was to hear him tease her again.

She thinks sometimes he is the only one she wants to talk to, thinks he might be the only one she feels comfortable telling all of this to, thinks she’s —

She’s leaving, but she doesn’t want him to doubt, “Of course I care. I just have to do what’s right for me, and Henry, and —”

There’s a great, glowing beacon reaching up to the sky, and she’s up and heading towards it before she even registers getting up from the bench, and, again, Hook is up and calling after her, chasing her.

16.

“You might not be able to move, Swan,” Hook starts, sounding mildly amused, “but you cut quite the figure in that dress.”

Emma can’t stop the pleased grin spreading on her face. You’re not so bad yourself, pirate, she thinks delightedly, but before she can speak, Midas approaches and greets them, who do I have the honor to welcome into my home, and oh shit, they hadn’t discussed aliases, and Hook is being absolutely no help, “Charles, Prince Charles,” she interrupts his stammering, “And I am Princess... Leia.”

Henry would be so proud, she thinks as she curtsies. They move in, and she’s been told so many stories, but now she’s living it, thinks of all the time Mary Margaret and David mention this or that ball and, “What’s the big deal about these things?” she asks Killian, but he doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t have to, after all, and Emma stares at the people mulling about in lavish clothes and sharing food and socializing, and stares at the center of it all, where people have paired up, dancing smoothly to the music, and it really is as fairytale as it sounded.

“You were saying?” he whispers teasingly, and only then does Emma realize she’s gaping, and all these princes and princesses, dancing with one another in unfamiliar movements — what am I supposed to do?

But Hook is taking her hand gently, slowly tugging her into the crowd, and he’s got a look on his face that Emma doesn’t want to name, smiling at her delightedly, blend in, and for a pirate, he doesn’t look remotely out of place, looks completely at ease with the situation, and hang on, wait, so many things could go wrong, she doesn’t know how to dance, and, “Wait, are you saying you know how to do — whatever this is?”

“It’s called a waltz,” he says cooly, settling one of her hands on her shoulder, moving the other to his false hand, and “There’s only one rule,” he continued, gently resting his hand on her waist, and he’s so close to her, their eyes meet, and and he’s completely open to her, another one of those moments when he’s completely dropping his pirate persona, the flirtatious bravado, letting her see that gentleman beneath, and he’s staring at her like he’s —

“Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing,” he grins and starts to move, and it isn’t difficult at all to follow his lead, because they make a great team, they always have, and that partnership had always carried over, whether it was knocking out giants, or getting around Neverland, or fighting Zelena, or even in quieter moments, when they are alone, when they have a conversation with a single look, or their easy banter, or, apparently — dancing the waltz.

He’s grinning at her like he just can’t help himself, and she’s smiling back because she just can’t help herself, and with Hook it’s so easy, and once again, she is so unspeakably glad that he is here with her, that she wasn’t alone falling through the portal, that he is the one who somehow managed to be by her side through this. She still doesn’t know if he had fallen in like she had, or if had simply followed her, because he always follows her, and she can’t think of anyone else she’d rather have by her side right now.

(she thinks she’s falling in —)

“Watch the mocking, I’m actually getting the hang of this,” she whispers to him, because there can’t be any other reason for why he’s looking at her like she’s the greatest thing he has ever seen.

“I’m not mocking you, Swan, I was just thinking about what you said in Storybrooke, about not being a princess,”

“Really,” she nearly laughs, “You get my first dance at my first royal ball, and all you can say is ‘I told you so?’”

“I believe what I’m trying to say, your Highness,” he corrects her, “is that you appear to be a natural,” she spies her father across the room before she can respond, and they quickly look away before anyone can notice them staring, and it isn’t all that hard to pretend to focus on Killian’s face, because she doesn’t have to pretend at all.

They dance, and Emma is helpless to grin back when Killian is looking at her like that, and Emma thinks the feeling of his hand on her waist feels right, and he feels good standing this close, and they are good together, they always have been, and Emma thinks that right this moment, the world consists only of the two of them, because she thinks she’s already halfway in —

17.

“But you can,” Killian insist, “All he said we need is magic, you’re the Savior, Swan, you can do it,”

“Not anymore, I lost it,” she reminds him, because she still can’t really feel it, can’t reach her magic, no matter how much she tries.

“When Zelena dies, all of her spells were undone, your powers should’ve been restored,”

“Believe me,” she snaps, “If I could make it work, I would, you think I’m faking it?”

And clearly he isn’t interested in holding back his opinions much longer, “I think not having magic makes it a hell of a lot easier for you to run back to New York and pretend to be somebody else,” and Emma thinks this is the first time he really gave her his own opinions on her leaving, gave her his true thoughts, told flatly and matter of factly, rather than just a vague disapproval and gentle persuasions to change her mind.

“But listen to me, Swan. You’re not. It’s time to stop running.”

Except Emma already knows this, has finally accepted it after one to many blank expressions, her parents looking at her, but not seeing her, of Ruby giving nothing more than polite conversations, of Blue’s knowing looks, and even the way Killian’s past self had looked right through her, missing all of their shared moments and connection, just another warm body to take to bed for the night.

“Yes, I run away, that’s how I’ve always survived, but believe me, I want this to work, I wanna go back. I wanna stop running.”

Almost immediately, Killian softens, “What’s changed your mind?”

And she remembers the way they were all helpless to watch her mom get executed, the way she had panicked, so scared of losing another loved one, remembers the way Killian had pulled her into him, remembers the way all she could do after was replay that single moment over and over until Killian mentioned his brother, until they realized Snow was still alive. She thought of the way she leapt forward to hug her mother but she had simply smiled politely before moving on, thinks of how her father had helped with her escape from Regina’s dungeon but barely gave her more than a curious look, remembers the way Killian had wiped her tears, the way she had watched her father fall in love with her mother, thought of what Mary Margaret had said to her so long ago, back when she had just been her roommate, thought about how she had been so busy trying to keep out pain with her walls, she hadn’t been able to let love through, either.

Not her parents’ love for her, not her own love for them, for her new baby brother, had constantly kept Killian at a distance because of how he made her feel, regardless of how little reason she has to not trust him, regardless of how much she feels she could someday return his feelings (especially because she feels she’s already on her way to returning them).

“I had saved and lost her, too. And that’s what I’ve been doing to her since I met her. It’s gotta stop,” Killian is only watching her patiently, encouragingly, and it just makes the words tumble out of her mouth, “When Henry brought me to Storybrooke, he told me I was the Savior. I didn’t see what he was really doing. He was not bringing me back to break a curse, he was bringing me home.”

And she misses it. Misses the loft, misses the diner, the clocktower and library, misses the docks and the forests, and her parents and her brother, and Henry, misses the grilled cheese and onion rings, misses the cocoa with cinnamon, the coffee at the sheriff’s station, misses the feel of magic and Leroy’s screaming about danger, misses it all, and Neal was right, because she feels at home in Storybrooke, at home with Henry and her parents and her brother and she wants to go home, because “Being with my parents these last few days but not really being with them — I’ve never missed them more.”

She’s ready to accept it now. “Storybrooke — it’s my home,”

But Killian is smiling down at her, knowing and proud, and she doesn't know why he’s smiling, but it’s Killian and she can’t help but return his smile. “What?”

“Look down,” is all he says, still looking entirely to proud and pleased and smug, and the wand is working, and she’s just staring, looking back at him to see if it really is, if she really does — “I’d say you’ve got your magic back,” he says simply. “Now, shall we go?”

18.

Emma’s home. Emma’s home, and she’s called her parents mom and dad and Henry is delighted by the fact that they're staying now, and she is too, except —

Except something isn’t right, something is missing, someone is missing, and she has told the story of her fairytale adventure, has shared her success to he mom and her dad and Henry, and even her baby brother but —

But Killian, who had been by her side throughout it all, who was the only piece of home she had left as they were trapped in the past, Killian who had taken her to Rumplestiltskin, helped plan Snow stealing the ring, who had taken her hand and led her to the dance floor, who had opened himself to her as they danced her first dance at her first royal ball — Killian who had pulled her close when she thought her mother was about to die, who comforted her and wiped her tears, who she is halfway —

He is not at her side now. She misses him.

He isn’t even in the diner. She finds him alone outside, and her heart aches at the lonely picture he paints, playing with his flask.

She does not want him to be alone.

“So,” she starts lightly, taking the seat closest to him, “do you think Rumplestiltskin is right? I’m in the Book now. He said everything besides our little adventure would go back to normal. Do you think that it is?” She does not even know why she’s asking this, just knows she doesn't want him to sit alone.

“He’s right,” he says, “Otherwise I’d remember that damn bar wench I kissed.” he eyes her slightly, and Emma has to laugh, how would that prove anything, because Hook had looked right through her as well, does not look at her like Killian does, like he’s in —

But Killian just smirks at her, looking unfairly attractive as he reminds her, “I know how you kiss. I’d have gone after her. But I didn’t, my life went on exactly the same as before.”

“Must’ve been the rum,” she murmurs, because he isn’t lying.

“Everything’s back to normal. You’re a bloody hero, Swan,”

“So are you,” she reminds him, because sometimes it seems he needs the reminding, and he only chuckles, only looks away, but Emma won’t let him dismiss it that easy, not when he has done so much for her and for her family, not when he had brought her back from New York, “I wanted to thank you, Killian.”

He looks up, meets her eyes, and he looks so confused, as if she has no reason to thank him, and it just makes her want to push this further, regardless of the more dangerous territories the conversation might head towards. “For going back for me in the first place in New York. If you hadn’t —“

“It was the right thing to do,” is all he says, and Emma — Emma has wondered, for so long how, how he found her, how he tracked her down, for he crossed realms to find her, to save her, to bring her home. She’s been dancing around the question for so long. “How did you do it? How did you get to me?”

(Emma doesn't even know if she’s talking about New York or her heart.)

“Well, the curse was coming. I ditched my crew and took the Jolly Roger as fast and as far as I possibly could to outrun it.” he says it like it’s nothing, you outran a curse, but she should really stop being so surprised by him, “I’m a hell of a captain,” he laughs, and continues, “And once I was outside the curse’s purview, I knew that the walls were down, transport between worlds was possible again... all I needed was a magic bean,”

“Those are not easy to come by,” he shifts, then, looks away from her, looks uncertain and melancholic and suddenly, Emma feels that she is missing something major, and Killian looks like he doesn’t want her to press anymore, but —

“They are if you’ve got something of... value to trade.”

“And what was that?” she asks lightly. How many doubloons or jewels or gold and treasure —

“Why the Jolly Roger, of course.” he says as if it’s obvious, as if it’s something anyone would do, as if it was just another object, another piece of jewelry, like it wasn’t possibly one of the biggest sacrifices he could make, and Emma —

Stares.

Stunned.

Because he’s plastered on a forced smile, kept his tone light, because he’s trying to shrug it off like it’s nothing, trying to keep his bravado up, as if it’s —

Maybe she heard wrong, you traded your ship for me, but he only drops the act, and he’s staring at her, honest, “Aye.” and she knows, knows what this means to him, to her, knows he’s giving her his heart to keep or break, knows he likely wouldn’t care either way, because he came back for her, took her to Neverland, helped save her father’s life, helped save Henry’s life, and he bore his heart to her for the first time on the beanstalk, and again under the decks of his ship, in Neverland, at the town line, in New York, in the forests of Storybrooke, in the past, knows she has had his heart for so long now, and she knows he wouldn’t break her heart because he is who he says he is.

Because he’s saying it not to gain favor but simply because she had asked and he didn't want to lie. Because she thinks she might already be halfway in love with Killian Jones. Because she’s tired of denying that she couldn't bear to lose him in her life.

So she kisses him, and he doesn’t even move until her lips are pressed to his, letting her take the lead and they are kissing for the first real time, because Neverland was passion and attraction and heat of the moment, but now, now doesn't kiss him for his ship, or as thanks or for some diversion tactic, she kisses him because she can’t bear not to, because as much as she had buried away her weaknesses, as much as she put up mile high walls around her heart, he sees right through them, and waits patiently for the ones he can’t get past, and she wants to let him in.

They stop for a breath and she smiles at him, because it’s perfect, and he smiles in return, and this time he is the one leaning in, and Emma’s letting down her walls to love her family, to love her home, to someday, maybe, love Killian, and she’s letting down her walls to be loved in return, and she has never felt more safe, has never felt more at peace.

She thinks she’s finally ready to take that chance and let him in.

[aobakukkii]

Wanna hold hands?

Bokuto x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Bad jokes

Male Reader

Word Count: 1748

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You shouldn't have to worry about this. You shouldn't act like a 12 year old walking next to his first crush... Wait were your feelings actually much different?  

Anyway Bokuto and you decided to go to a Christmas Market together to fulfill some foodie dreams of yours and only a few minutes separated you from your date destination. Well it wasn't one officially, but this couldn't stop you from dreaming, because all hope for not hopelessly pining on the owl boy was gone for a long time. So it was only natural to indulge in your feelings.

Bokuto and you first met on a mutual friends hang out in a park many months ago. Just after you arrived however, your friend who came a bit earlier soon volunteered for the "Oh f*ck we don't have anything... Let's get some drinks!" group mission to the nearest supermarket which left you awkwardly standing at the sidelines. Two small groups had already formed, involved in whatever topic they were talking about and you being to shy to disturb anyone just played with your phone for awhile. At least until a guy way too big to go unnoticed plopped up besides you.  

"Hey you're friends with f/n aren't ya? My name is Koutarou."

You just nodded for the first statement "I'm y/n" you quietly responded.  

"Oh cool where did you meet them?"  

Introducing yourself was normally an incredibly awkward situation, but somehow it felt natural with this guy. He kept a flow of conversation, getting to know your daily responsibilities and hobbies among other things. It didn't feel forced or like he just wanted someone to yak at or anything, he kept everything on a level that made you feel comfortable although you barely knew him, except for the few things he mentioned like his huge interest in volleyball.

The spiky haired boy was genuinely interested in anything you told him and even hyped some of your interests as well.

With him you were more or less smoothly introduced back into the (luckily) small group he left earlier and despite the fact that you felt uncomfortable with all the attention of the others in the beginning, his huge presence while talking quickly took this burden away from you. For socializing with new people, it was an incredibly alright experience.  

As it turned dark he offered you to join them go and play video games at his place and even if you would have normally declined such a request from new people, "Yes" felt just right.

Looking back at it now, the massive amount of praise you received from Bokuto for your skill made the decision even better. Especially when the praise came from a guy who would deserve the title pro himself.

In general Bokuto became your hype man in no time. You could just breath and he would still be like "Yas that's my boy!".  

This wasn't anything special in particular, he was supportive of the people around him and especially his friends, but to you his intensity towards felt special. He made you feel special. And now you wanted to be his special one and make him feel just as special and happy as he made you.

However you were worried that you misread his kindness towards you. Because he really treated everyone that he liked amazing, that's just the kind of person he is. This big chunk of love called Bokuto's heart is the reason why you fell for him, but it was also was where all your anxieties came from.  

Back to the present at hand, Bokuto's hand was what you were drawn to in particular. You never wanted to grab anything that badly in your life. The thought of holding his hand made you all giddy.  

Focusing on it was another challenge you had to face, since that guy swung his arms around a lot when he was excited to go somewhere, which happened quite often. Luckily, he was focused on the story he was telling you and looking at the illuminations so your starring went unnoticed.  

That until one of his swings touched your arm and more importantly, your hand.  

"Oh sorry I wasn't paying attention" Bokuto laughed. He stopped his movements and slowed down his step a bit.  

"It's fine" you giggled to hide your massive inner panic. His hand just touched yours!  

"Hey hey hey we should focus more on the lights there! You see those around the tree over there? They remind me of your eyes bro."

You just hummed and mumbled a silent "thanks" in response, being blessed with the chance to look towards the lights on your right to hide your face from him.  

Stuff like this wasn't usually included in the all-inclusive hype man package for you. And it made your cheeks heat up even more than his usual compliments. In the past Bokuto loved to tell you that you were cute, saying that you're shy reaction to the compliment just made you even cuter.  

Honestly Bokuto crossed the line to teasing hype man a long time ago and threw really flattering stuff at you like spikes at the opponent in a game whenever he felt like it, but this was a first. He never said anything directly about your looks. In fact you never heard him point out anyone's looks like that. You heard "handsome" and "pretty", but never something specific.  

"I mean it, I never saw someone whose eyes were sparkling like yours."  

This was straight up flirting at this point.  

You hid your face behind your hand, still looking away.  

"Kou seriously stop it."  

"Can't help it if it's true."  

You knew Bokuto was good in reading you, but you thought your crush and the insecurities with it were a secret. At least until now. This setting, this compliment, the smooth delivery. You were maybe anxious about the topic of love, but not that dense. This was his sign that you were special to him.  

He did his part, so now it was time to do something yourself.  

A mix of the compliments' confidence boost, your newfound view on his feelings and the still present panic and shyness robbing you of the ability to think or act like a normal human being, you drew the most genius conclusion you had in a while. If you swing your arm a bit and touch his hand again and again, he might read you once again and notice your wish to hold hands and you guys can live happily ever after.  

"100% risk free strategy dude" you thought to yourself.  

A comfortable silence was in the air as you continued your walk. You could already see the market, but it was still far enough away to be heard clearly. Bokuto was admiring the view around you, the illuminations being his favorite part of each December.  

You tried to give it a shot. You slightly swung your arm and hit his hand with yours, so slightly that it just seemed like something that would happen normally.

Bokuto didn't react in the slightest and you were not sure if he even noticed it, but you weren't giving up just yet. Your childish tactic deserved some testing before being discarded. So you did it again with the same force and the same result. Time to step up your game.  

You planned on a slightly increased force for the next one, which your body executed as "Tackle that hand like it's a Rattata." A now fainted Rattata at that, because Bokuto suddenly stopped walking and looked directly at your face. You had just enough time to conclude that you can't read his expression at all before avoiding your face. Your mind worked on a quick list on of how often you should apologize for this awkward moment, hoping that he would interpret it as a mistake. Judging by his face and the awkward pause right now however, he noticed what you were going for, which was honestly impressive from this stupid plan. You really wanted to apologize right away, hoping that the embarrassing gesture didn't ruin your chances with him.  

Before you could say a word however, you saw a big hand around yours. You couldn't possibly believe your eyes, if not for the squeeze you felt and a small motion upwards, bringing your face to a happy and slightly pink Bokuto.  

"Geez all I wanted was a small confirmation from you before starting anything, but I didn't think you would be the type to go all the way" he said his voice although more quiet than his usual one still matched the grin on his face. "You could have asked as well you know?"  

"I just... Didn't feel like it?" you laughed between your words, being overwhelmed by the sudden confession.

Bokuto quickly pulled you to the side of the street, not wanting to accidentally block the path of anyone else right now and to give the two of you a tiny bit of more privacy.

"Y/n I really wanted to confess to you for a long long time, but I didn't dare to say anything before I could be sure that you were interested." He started rocking your arms slightly.

"When I have my moods and try to hide from the world, you're the first to come to seek me and pull me back up again. When I'm loud, you're the one who listens to my rambling anyway. I discovered so many cool games and shows thanks to you and, most importantly, I can count on you whenever I'm at my low and my highs. You make me feel special y/n, and I really didn't want to destroy that without a clear sign of you feeling the same way."

The rocking stops as he slowly starts to stroke your hand with his thumb.

"This wasn't the one I expected, but again that makes you special. Just like you make me feel." he chuckled. "Man I can't really explain it, can I just show you?"

His unoccupied hand pressed against you back, pulling you closer to his body. You were glad that he took the lead from here on because you were complete lost in the moment. He bent down to capture your lips with his. It was bit clumsy due to your excitement, but still sweet and it definitely showed what Bokuto intended.

You pulled away with flushed faces, both unable to hide your smile.

"This is what I had in mind"

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AN: So this completely self-indulgent fic is actually based on two dreams I had. When I already dream like in Fan-fictions, I might as well write them.  

Feedback would be highly appreciated. Thank you for reading ❤️