#the same one who. NINE YEARS after he dumped me over text AFTER A WEEK OF BARELY DATING

[djsangos]

//y'all i think i saw my fucking middle school boyfriend who dumped me over text after a week at the fucking HEB?????

[puddlejumpingwriter]

"The Nine Lives of Kylo"

~ A Reylo Holiday Textfic ~

Author's Note: I'm posting these chapters in time for Christmas in July. Chapters 1-5 are also available on AO3. New chapters will post to both Tumblr and AO3 starting this week and wrapping up before the holidays.

~~~

PART III

~~~

Ben always expects stress from his family over the holidays, but he can’t prepare for it this year. He’s too distracted by Kylo…and the woman who’s been helping him.

He shouldn’t have enjoyed kissing her so much…

But a text pulls him back to the family stress.

~~~

Ben needs help with Kylo, so he goes to the text that always seems to be near the top of his messages.

~~~

Ben’s as ready as he can be when Rey arrives at his house at 5:30.

His mother will have appetizers on the counter by 6:00, and dinner will be served exactly an hour after that. He needs to be on the road soon to avoid a lecture on tardiness.

He takes a deep breath, trying not to think of the litany of criticisms he’ll hear tonight and wondering if Lando and Chewie might be willing to sneak off for a bit and partake in some Chandrilan ale. 

That might help things.

It would also help if Kylo behaves for his sitter tonight. As Ben opens his front door, Rey gives him a bright grin that goes well with her happy holiday sweater. 

Ben knows he needs to stop thinking about this woman and her smiles.

But Ben can’t deny what he feels.

If Rey wanted the same things as him, Ben would dump Baz in a heartbeat and ask Rey to be with him.

But Rey doesn’t date now—and when she is finally willing to date, she wants love and probably marriage.

If they were together, Rey would have expectations of him. And Ben would fail miserably at them—the same way he seems to let everyone down in his life. 

It’s better to ignore the yearning he feels whenever he sees Rey. They should just be friends. 

“This is your house?” Rey asks.

“It’s more of a project I’m going to sell at some point, but yes, I live here.”

“It’s so…”

“Boring? Old-fashioned? Run-down?”

Rey’s brow furrows in shock. “I was going to say charming. Who would say such ugly things about this place?”

“No one,” Ben replies, omitting the fact he was quoting Baz verbatim.

“You’d have to be blind not to see how inviting this house is,” Rey adds, as she walks around the foyer, taking in the space. “Sure, it’s traditional, but it’s also cozy and just lovely.”

“If you say so.”

Her hand slides along the rail of the staircase. “Look at these stairs. Whoever built these cared about what they were doing.”

Ben’s no longer looking at Rey. Instead, he’s focused on his feet. He can feel heat rising in his cheeks, and he can’t keep his fingers from fiddling with his ear.

He’s never handled praise well.

“Ben?” Rey says, curiosity clear in her voice. “Did you build this?”

“Yeah,” he admits, his gaze returning to her. “The old stairs rotted out.”

“These look amazing!”

“They’re just stairs.”

“Just stairs? If I were allowed to make changes to my apartment, I’d hire you to make that place feel like a home.”

“If your landlord ever loosens up on his rules, let me know,” Ben says. “Now let me show you a few of the essential spots around here.”

A meow sounds from the top of the stairs, and they both look up to see Kylo’s descent. The cat flies down the steps, slowing only when he reaches Rey.

Kylo rubs against her legs, before looking at her expectantly. Rey picks him up and nestles Kylo against her chest.

“Lucky cat,” Ben thinks, before shoving that thought aside. He shows Rey a few rooms in the house—all the while trying not to envy Kylo.

“This is the kitchen,” he says. “It’s a bit of a mess because we’re putting new flooring down on Monday.”

“How does Kylo handle the construction?”

“He seems okay, but do you think that might be what’s bothering him?”

“He seems fine now,” Rey says, scratching between the purring cat’s ears. “But loud noises can be disturbing to cats. I remember one cat growing up who used to run whenever my brother or I had to vacuum.”

Ben chuckles. “Was it your cat or a relative’s?”

Her grin falters, and Ben can see something sad in her usually cheerful eyes.

“The cat belonged to the owner of a foster home where I lived,” she answers.

“I’m sorry,” he says, not knowing if he’s apologizing for making her reveal part of her past, or for complaining about his troublesome family to her.

“Don’t be,” she says, her smile slowly returning as Kylo licks her hand. “Besides, there were benefits to growing up in different houses. I learned about different kinds of pets—and that helped me decide to become a vet. So how about you—why did you become a fireman?”

Ben sighs. “Let me show you.”

He leads her into the living room, where he has a bookcase covered in pictures.

“Is this your family?” Rey asks, taking in the images.

“Yes,” Ben answers. “Some biological. Some not related but just as close.” His hand moves toward a more recent addition, but Rey’s already pointing at the picture.

“Are these your parents?”

“That’s them.”

“You take after your father.”

“In more ways than one,” he comments, which earns him a quirk of Rey’s eyebrow. “He’s the fire chief,” Ben adds.

“Oh, so he’s the reason you became a fireman?”

“In part—do you happen to know the name Organa?”

“I saw that name on a sign during the last election,” Rey replies. “Are you related to Organa too?”

Ben’s finger moves to the woman in the frame.

“Wait,” she says. “So your father’s the fire chief and your mother’s the mayor?”

“Yep. A whole family of public servants,” he replies.

“Well, your parents are, but surely you must have relatives in other professions.”

“Of the adopted family members,” Ben begins, “Uncle Chewie is a firefighter, and Uncle Lando’s a detective. My mom’s brother Luke is the closest to being an outsider.”

“What does he do?”

“He audits taxes—but at a federal level, not local.”

“What a scandal,” Rey says, jokingly. “I’m surprised he wasn’t disowned.”

“It was pretty touch and go there—especially when he talked about moving to some tropical island away from all of us.”

“What stopped him?”

“He met Aunt Mara,” Ben answers. “She works in the town’s tourism department.”

“Of course she does,” Rey says. “What about your grandparents? Someone in your family must’ve taken another path.”

Ben’s eyes move to two pictures on the middle shelf—one black-and-white, taken decades ago, and the other from just two years ago.

In the older picture, his grandmother Padme wears an intricate white gown and stands in front of his grandfather Anakin. The young man’s nearly a foot taller than the woman, but that doesn’t hinder them. They exchange nuptials and smiles with the lake glimmering behind them.

“My grandmother was the first female mayor of the town,” Ben says. “And my grandfather was the cop assigned to protect her when someone starting making threats against her.”

His eyes move to the newer picture, where the couple is posed for the picture. Padme’s hand is on Anakin’s chest, as they lean into each other, and her diamond and sapphire ring is prominent in the foreground.

“Beautiful,” Rey comments.

Baz said something similar when she saw this picture, admiring the ring, and Ben can only assume Rey is doing the same.

“Everyone loves that ring,” he says.

“I wasn’t talking about the ring,” Rey replies. “Sure, it’s lovely, but look at the couple. They love each other. It’s clear in both photos. They’re so happy and, well, adorable.”

“Thank you,” a female voice says from behind them.

Ben turns to see his grandmother in the doorway to the room. “Nonna,” he says. “ I swear I’m leaving now. You didn’t need to check up on me.”

“I’m not checking up on you, Benjamin,” Padme replies. “Your mother told me you had a kitten, and I just had to see for myself. Is this him?”

His grandmother gestures toward Rey’s arms, and his new friend answers, “Yes, this is Kylo.”

“What a handsome cat,” Padme says before petting Kylo.

The cat purrs at the attention. 

“Are you sure you can’t keep him?” Padme asks.

“You know me,” he answers. “I’m not looking for commitments.”

“But perhaps you can make an exception for such a charming creature.”

Rey smiles. “You wouldn’t be interested in a cat, would you?” she asks Padme.

“I used to love having a cat when I was a child, but I’m not sure how Kylo or any other cat could handle Vader.”

“Vader?” Rey asks.

“Granddad’s Rottweiler,” Ben replies. “I think Kylo could go toe-to-toe with Vader.”

“I wouldn’t be worried about that, dear,” Padme says. “I’d be more worried they’d be bad influences on each other. Who knows what sort of mischief the two of them would cause together?”

“Does Vader have a sitter for the night?” Rey asks.

“The dogs usually hang out together while we eat dinner,” Ben answers. “And they tend to get along.”

“For the most part,” Padme adds. “But I’d love to have a cat join us. Would you like to come to dinner with us?”

The question is posed to Rey—not to Kylo.

“No, I couldn’t,” Rey says. “I’m just here to watch the cat.”

Padme’s brow creases. “Benjamin, this isn’t your girlfriend?”

“No, Nonna,” he answers firmly. “This is Rey. She’s a friend of mine, and she’s good with cats.”

“I can see that,” Palme says, looking at Kylo, who’s still tucked happily against Rey’s chest. “But still, the offer stands if you’d like to come to dinner.”

“I couldn’t,” Rey insists. “I have an exam to study for while Kylo keeps me company.”

“An exam?” Padme questions.

“Rey’s studying to become a vet,” Ben answers. “Couldn’t ask for a better cat sitter.”

“I’m glad Kylo will be well taken care of,” Padme says. “But if you change your mind, Rey, and you’d like to join us, just let Benjamin know. I’ll send him to pick you up at any time tonight.”

“Thank you,” Rey replies with a smile. “That’s really too kind of you, but I couldn’t possibly intrude on your family dinner—especially not when there’s a test I have to prepare for.”

“Suit yourself,” Padme says. “But the option is there if you want it. Now come along, Benjamin, or else we’ll hear an earful from your mother.” His grandmother turns back to Rey, “It was nice meeting you, dear, and you too, Kylo.”

Padme gives the cat a few more affectionate pets before letting Ben escort her to the door.

Ben turns back to Rey. “If there’s anything you need, text me.”

Rey just smiles at him, and then lifts Kylo’s paw to wave at him. “I think we’ll have everything we need here at your house. Now Kylo, say goodbye to daddy.”

Ben’s heart starts to melt, and it has nothing to do with the small noise his cat makes. 

He likes the thought of this place as his house—rather than just some property he’s going to fix up and sell. 

And he likes thinking about his house with Rey and his cat in it.

And oddly enough, Ben likes Rey calling him daddy.

[jisungsmochi]

confessions - park jisung

jisung x reader / jisung being whipped / fluffy, lil angst / hope it makes you feel something lmaoo 

word count: 8.7k 

mini playlist: 

Cloud 9 - Beach Bunny 

Falling - Chase Atlantic 

Enchanted - Taylor Swift 

summary: confessing to your crush was always daunting. but how else were you supposed to let them know how you truly feel? y/n has learned the hard way, always being the confessor rather than the one being confessed to. oh how she wished that one day, someone will have the courage to tell her how they feel, without her always having to make the moves...

//

“i like you”

“ew, you’ll give me cooties”

y/n was barely seven years old when she confessed to her very first crush, lee donghyuck. he rudely rejected her offer to play marbles during lunch, but she wasn’t fazed. she plastered a bright smile on her face, calmly nodding at the little boy,

“cooties aren’t real, it’s probably just germs from not washing your hands!” she snickered, turning on her heel as she made her way to a shaded area in the quad. she left donghyuck speechless that day, slightly bruising the young boy’s ego. how could she be so calm when her very first crush had harshly rejected her? she always tried to display a cheery exterior to her peers, she found it embarrassing if people caught her crying over some boy. so she pushed her feelings aside until she was alone.

when y/n was twelve, she had grown a crush on her desk mate, jeno. he was quiet most of the time, only speaking to her when he needed answers for homework, but she was whipped nonetheless. he was undeniably handsome, especially for someone their age. how was that even possible? she would intently watch him play soccer with his friends on the school oval, softly cheering every time he made a goal. jeno had noticed when she attended his games, often smiling at her from the field.

after weeks of innocent stares in the hallway and short conversations during class, y/n decided it was time to confess to lee jeno. she came up with the cute idea to write a small note to him during class, it read:

hi jeno!! i think you’re really cute, and a great soccer player. i also have a crush on you...would you go out with me?

tick yes or no

she had written the letter in sparkly pink ink, folded it gently before sliding it over to jeno’s desk. the confused boy swiped the card over to his side, slowly opening it. her heart was beating out of her chest. jeno started scribbling on the paper, causing her to furrow her eyebrows, all he needed to do was leave a tick?

jeno returned the note to her, a soft smile plastered on his face. her eyes scanned over the note, landing on his answer. the ‘yes’ box was ticked, followed by a short sentence under it,

would this mean you’re my girlfriend?

tick yes or no

she couldn’t help but smirk at his charms, immediately ticking yes. from that day on, jeno and y/n began dating. but when you’re going through your pre-teen years, things get really dramatic. jeno ended things with y/n after only three months of dating, which seemed like forever for a twelve year old. he dumped her over text, as many pre-teens did back then. she put on a brave front, acting as if she was okay with it all. it wasn’t even a serious relationship, but it was still her first. of course it hurt. but she continued to suffer in silence, no one needed to know.

when y/n was fifteen, almost turning sixteen, she befriended huang renjun. they were always aware of the other, often hanging out in the same cliques. it was the school’s swimming carnival, when she began getting closer to him. after donghyuck had accidentally pushed her into the pool, too caught up with chasing mark around, renjun came to her rescue. he offered her his towel, wrapping her up tightly as he sat and chatted with her while the others scolded donghyuck. he was a great conversationalist, always having something new to talk about. y/n adored that about him. from that day onwards, she would message him back and forth, almost becoming a daily occurrence. they would skype call after school, catching eachother up on any drama or daily events in their early high school lives. she started falling for him, fast. but there was one downfall to renjun. he would never acknowledge y/n at school. whenever he was with his friends, he pretended like he was merely acquaintances with the girl. it hurt her to see him act like nothing was happening between them. word got around that renjun had a crush on somebody. as usual high school gossip goes, the signs led back to y/n. her friends would cheer her on to confess to him, so would his friends. they believed they would be a strong couple. so she decided to take measures into her own hands, opting to confess to huang renjun.

y/n approached the boy during lunch, interrupting his conversation with jaemin.

“can i talk to you, uh privately?” her voice wavered as she spoke, but she stood her ground. renjun looked over at his friends, jaemin raising an eyebrow at him, encouraging him to go with her. he eventually gave in, keeping a slight distance from the nervous girl as they walked around the school grounds together.

“what did you want to talk about?” he coughed slightly, feeling an immense amount of awkwardness around them.

“i wanted to tell you something” she started, now stopping in their tracks. renjun gulped, a guilty feeling beginning to rise in his stomach.

“i like you, renjun. more than a friend” she finally spat out, trying to read the reaction of the boy across from her. but renjun remained silent, eyes avoiding hers. y/n felt deflated, why the hell wasnt he saying anything?

“i-thank you” he stuttered, causing her to raise an eyebrow at him. thank you?

“i mean thank you for telling me, it’s nice that you’re so honest” renjun tried to smile, but she didn’t budge. he wasn’t taking this seriously at all.

“you know what, just forget i said anything, bye renjun” y/n rolled her eyes, fed up with this constant rejection that seemed to follow her around. why couldn’t she get a happy ending? just for once. why did she have to settle for less than what she deserved? not only did she get rejected by a crush that day, she lost a great friend. y/n swore that she would stop focusing on chasing other’s affections. what was the point? she was just going to get rejected anyway. atleast that’s what she always told herself. those memories always stuck with her, and she refused to ever feel so dejected in life. she wouldn’t let this happen again. she just wanted someone to confess to her for once, would that really be so hard?

park jisung was a simple boy, cruising through life with little to no worries. all he wanted to do was finish high school, he dreaded it more than anything. everyday was the same for him, waking up to the same alarm, riding his skateboard to school, sitting for what seemed like forever, then going home to rest and repeat. he never took notice of those around him, why would he? it’s not like he was going to stay in touch with many of them after school finished. except for his best friend, chenle, he could never escape him no matter how hard he tried.

it was the first day of junior year, when jisung found himself placed in a seating plan for his modern history class.

‘is this really necessary?’ he mumbled to himself, shuffling to his assigned seat. atleast it’s by the window, he thought to himself.

y/n strolled through the halls, making her way to her first period class, modern history. a new year, a fresh new start. she waltzed into the room, noticing students gathering around the seating chart. she found her name, whipping her head around the classroom, eyes landing on a messy haired boy next to the window. she shrugged to herself, not recognising him at all. as she made her way to the desk, jisung suddenly perked up. she was stunning. it may have only been nine in the morning, but seeing her was enough to completely wake the previously tired boy up.

“hey, i guess we’re deskmates” y/n greeted politely, taking a seat right next to the timid boy. jisung was thinking of something witty to say, but nothing was coming to mind.

“y-yes we are” was all he managed to let out. y/n just nodded at him, eyes focusing on their teacher who had called the attention on the room. but jisung couldn’t keep his eyes off her. how had he never seen her before? she was practically glowing, her soft features accentuated by the light. he was breath taken by her, despite only having shared simple greetings.

y/n felt the boy staring at her, but decided not to call him out on it. she promised herself to not get involved with anyone this year. it would only bring her eventual rejection again. so she tried her best to ignore park jisung, it was the only way to get him to lose interest.

“i don’t think she’s too fond of me” jisung confides in his best friend, chenle as they sit under the bleachers, munching on their lunch.

“can you blame her? you probably ask her too many unnecessary questions” chenle smirked, teasing his pouty friend.

“no, i don’t even talk to her much, she just refuses to acknowledge my existence” jisung lets out an exhausted puff, thinking back to his numerous attempts to atleast become acquainted with his desk mate. firstly, he tried greeting her brightly each morning, in which she would only raise her eyebrows before pulling out her books for the class. secondly, jisung attempted to ask her questions about class work, in which she shushed him, pointing over to the teacher who was speaking. even after class, she would immediately pack her things before he had the chance, rushing out the door as if she was the flash or something.

“sounds like she just isn’t fond of people in general. does she even have any friends?” chenle questioned, trying his best to pull his friend out of his solemn state.

“i-i’m not sure, i mean she has to have atleast one friend...right?” jisung started thinking to himself. if he couldn’t get her to talk, maybe her friends would.

“you might be playing with fire here, is she really worth getting to know?” chenle scoffed, slightly admiring jisung’s determination.

“you never know unless you try, right?” jisung took a bite of his sandwich, there has to be a way for y/n to open up to him.

//

“i heard that park jisung has been going around, asking about you” one of y/n’s longest friends, ningning, suddenly brought up. y/n looked at her as if she was crazy, what is up with this park jisung dude?

“what does he want with me?” she rolled her eyes slightly, flipping through her history textbook.

“maybe he likes you? or maybe, he just wants to be friends. why are you so harsh to him anyway?” ningning sighed, memories of seeing her friend cry over boys now cluttering her mind.

“i don’t need any more friends. i have you, and like...sungchan” y/n shrugged, continuing to take notes as she read.

“i think you’re being unreasonable, he seems really nice. give him a chance” ningning tried persuading her friend but y/n was stubborn. she wasn’t going to get wrapped up in any unnecessary drama. maybe she was being a little rude towards jisung, she could cut it down a bit. but being anything more than classmates was not in the cards for her at all.

the following monday morning, jisung entered the classroom, skateboard attached to his hip.

“mr park, the skateboard stays at the front of the room, we’ve been through this” mr kim warned the tired boy, earning a subtle nod from him. jisung gently placed his skateboard against the wall, before making his way to his desk. he was surprised to see that y/n was already seated, scribbling down all sorts of things in her planner. jisung let out a soft cough, signalling her to raise her head to face him.

“could i uh get to my seat?” he muttered, barely loud enough for her to hear. he was more shocked to hear her response,

“oh of course, sorry jisung” he froze after she finished speaking. was this real life? was y/n really acknowledging him right now?

she scooted closer to her desk, allowing space for the tall boy. jisung quickly snapped out of his thoughts, rushing to sit down. she couldn’t help but let out a slight chuckle at his antics. it didn’t go unnoticed by jisung.

“may i have your attention? as you all know, it’s now the middle of the term. to test your knowledge, i want you guys to pair up with your desk-mates and make a presentation on a historical topic of your choice. please refer to the assessment outline for more information”

jisung was practically beaming after hearing ‘pair up with your desk-mate’. his eyes shifted to the girl next to him, who seemed quite pleased. she looked over at him, simply nodding, acknowledging their future partnership. did he wake up in some type of alternate universe?

“uh jisung, i really want to do well in this subject. so we should probably get started as soon as possible” y/n gently tapped the side of his desk, drawing in his attention.

“oh yeah, for sure. w-when did you want to start?” he stumbled over some of his words, catching her off guard, making her softly smile.

“maybe tomorrow? do you have a free period?” she continued the flow of the conversation, making jisung feel more at ease.

“uh yeah, just before lunch” he responded, watching as her face lit up.

“oh great! me too, we can work at the bleachers, barely anyone goes there anyway” she confirmed, writing down the extra details in her planner. jisung couldn’t stop staring at her, how could she do such simple tasks, yet look so beautiful?

all he had to say was, thank you mr kim.

//

y/n patiently waited for jisung to arrive, typing up random notes on her laptop. she was onto her second paragraph when she heard the huffing and puffing of someone next to her. jisung hurriedly sat down next to her, needing to take a deep breath.

“a-are you okay?” she questioned, shutting her laptop, turning her body to face the boy. jisung just nodded, holding up a finger before speaking.

“i just had chemistry with Mr Jung, he wouldn’t let us leave until we could recite the first twenty elements on the periodic table” jisung finally felt relaxed, taking out his water bottle, consuming a concerning amount of water. her mouth created a slight ‘O’ shape, grasping the situation.

“i had to sprint here, i always get stuck past Sodium” jisung continued rambling, allowing y/n to simply stare intently. she didn’t mean for it to seem creepy, but she couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle at his constant ramblings.

“a-ah sorry, we should probably get started” he shook his head, pulling out his own laptop from his bag. y/n nodded at his words, unsure of how to continue a conversation with him. it had been a while since she spoke to someone outside her inner circle of two people.

after about forty minutes of hardcore work, y/n’s eyes started wandering around. she caught sight of the boys soccer team, who were preparing for their lunch time practice. jisung’s eyes followed hers,

“you like soccer?” he blurted out, trying his best to start a conversation with her. she nodded softly, the side of her mouth curving upwards.

“yeah, i do. i’m no good at it, i just like watching. do you?” she questioned him back, eyes now focusing on him.

“of course, my parents weren’t so subtle, naming me after a famous soccer player and all” he joked, watching as the girl across from him started hysterically laughing. oh how he adored her laugh.

“oh my god, i didn’t even realise! they must have been onto something! why aren’t you on the team?” she furrowed her eyebrows, jisung bit his lip nervously,

“ah yeah, contrary to popular belief, i suck at soccer and didn’t make the team.” he sighed, feeling slightly embarrassed. y/n paused momentarily before opening her mouth,

“ah who cares! we can just watch together from the stands then” she shot him a soft smile, relieving some of the tension jisung had previously felt. the bell for lunch rang through the field, signalling that their free period had come to an end. jisung was about to pack up his things, when he noticed that y/n was still sitting, eyes glued to the players on the field.

“hey, it’s lunch now” jisung gently tapped her shoulder, snapping her out of her mini trance. y/n just nodded,

“oh i know, i was just going to watch them practice and eat my lunch here” she explained, turning her head back to the field. jisung held the strap of his bag tightly, thinking to himself momentarily. chenle can wait, he thought to himself. jisung plumped his bag to his side as he returned to his seat right next to her.

“what are you doing?” y/n questioned the boy,

“what does it look like? i’m keeping you company” he just smiled, pulling out a packet of chips, offering her some. she couldn’t hide how entertained she was, kindly accepting his offer. they continued to watch the soccer team practice, eyes scanning for the best players.

“that jeno guy is pretty good, i’m kind of jealous” jisung pouted, causing y/n to start giggling.

“am i wrong? like who wouldn’t be jealous of lee jeno? he’s got like everything! he’s athletic, and good looking and probably gets lots of chicks” jisung praised,

“wow jisung, sounds like you have a crush!” y/n teased the boy, softly nudging him. jisung froze at the sudden contact, he liked how playful you started being with him.

“don’t you? he’s kind of a catch, i thought girls would be all over him” jisung shrugged, watching as she slowly became quiet. he was startled by her reaction, feeling heat rise to his cheeks immediately.

“d-did i say something?” he muttered, unsure whether or not she was upset.

“n-no you didn’t. i mean, lee jeno was my first boyfriend, so i can say i’ve been there and done that!” y/n let out a small scoff, she noticed that jisung had now grown concerned.

“it was nothing though, we were like 12, and he dumped me over text. hasn’t spoken a word to me since though” she sighed, eyes scanning back to the boy in question. jisung was unsure of what to say next. y/n knew she had just over shared, she couldn’t help it. once she started, sometimes she couldn’t stop. she knew it would make jisung feel uncomfortable, part of her regretting it immediately. but when she saw the boy shoot her a cheeky grin, all her worries washed away.

“it’s good to hear that one girl at this school doesn’t have a crush on lee jeno” was all he said, causing her to raise an eyebrow.

“why’s that?” she curiously questioned,

“because that means i have a chance” he just smirked, head turning to focus back on the field. y/n was speechless. was he really being serious? or was this just some playful joke? she chose not to respond, feeling heat rise to her ears and cheeks. since when was park jisung such a flirt?

//

“come on, it’ll be fun” ningning whined as she sat with y/n and sungchan at the bleachers.

“yeah, you’ll get to see me play for the first time since i got on the team” sungchan begged, watching as y/n debated to herself.

“okay fine, not like i have three assignments to do that night” she sighs, giving into her friend’s peer pressure to attend friday night’s school soccer game. ningning and sungchan high-fived eachother, slightly surprised by her response. y/n’s gaze drew to the one and only park jisung, who was currently trying to do some weird skateboards tricks with chenle. she couldn’t pull her eyes away, finding it amusing whenever he made a mistake and tried to awkwardly cover it up. ningning snickered, catching onto the entire situation.

“park jisung huh? guess it’s finally time for you to put yourself back out there?” y/n snapped out of her trance, now glaring at her friend.

“n-no, what are you talking about? i wasn’t even looking at him” y/n immediately became defensive, sungchan deciding to step in.

“you totally were, in fact i’m sure you have a little bit of drool at the side of your mouth” he playfully teased, pretending to wipe off ‘drool’ from her face. y/n shoved his hands away from her, softly pouting.

“guys, he’s just a classmate. i said i wasn’t going to get involved with anyone, remember?” the annoyed girl reiterated to her friends, who weren’t buying the act at all.

“you can’t shut off your feelings, you know? it’s clear that you’re interested in him, even if it’s the tiniest bit. and you already know he’s interested in you too! why can’t you see that?” ningning sighed, feeling sorry for how hard y/n was on herself.

“because things will get messy. i’ll end up falling harder and ruin everything. it’s not going to happen again, i won’t let it” y/n looked down at her hands, gripping her water bottle tightly.

“maybe he’s different. he’s not going to be another jeno, or renjun, or donghyuck even. just keep an open mind, you have to start lowering your walls” sungchan pulled his arm around y/n shoulders, allowing her to rest against his side. ningning held her hand in y/n’s, gently stroking the back of her hand with her thumb. inside, y/n knew her friends were right. but something kept telling her that she was going to end up broken by the end of it. she really hoped that park jisung would be different. she needed him to be different.

//

y/n and jisung were halfway through their assignment, sitting next to eachother in the school library during their free period.

“damn, we are doing pretty well, way ahead of the schedule you had planned for us” jisung teased, eyes shifting to the page of scribbles, indicating the tasks for the assignment. y/n let out a scoff, pulling her planner towards her,

“don’t diss my planning okay? it’s just a rough outline!” she pierced her eyes at him, watching as he just smiled back at her. why does he keep doing that?

“you going to the soccer game tonight?” jisung nervously stammered, trying to play off as if he didn’t care too much about it. y/n only smirked at his words, placing down her pen before responding,

“may i ask why you’re asking?” she leant back in her chair, watching as jisung shifted his position so that he was directly facing her. she held her breath for a moment, not realising how close he actually was to her right now.

“because i’m going, and i was wondering if you wanted to watch it together. you know, since we are just the spectators rather than the players?” y/n wasn’t sure why she felt so...flattered, he really was unknowingly charming.

“oh yeah, i’m going, but i’ll be sitting with my friend” she tried to push the idea of her and jisung sitting alone for two hours in the cold, out of her mind. but jisung wasn’t going to back down so easily.

“oh great! i’ll bring chenle too, we can all sit together” he smiled widely before returning to type on his laptop. y/n let out a soft sigh. it doesn’t look like he will be giving up anytime soon.

//

y/n and ningning were both cozied up together on the bleachers, eyes on the lookout for sungchan. they locked eyes with the tall boy, waving at him erratically, causing him to respond in the exact same manner, gaining looks from his team mates.

“oh i sure hope they win, otherwise we’re making him buy us hot chocolate, i’m freezing!” y/n huffs, her breath now appearing infront of her.

“someone say hot chocolate?” the familiar voice rang through her ears. jisung was now seated next to her, two cups of hot chocolate in his hands. her mouth was agape, watching as the boy handed her friend one cup, then offering her the other. ningning kindly thanked him, gently nudging y/n’s arm.

“and one for my favourite desk mate” jisung snickered as she gently took the cup from him.

“hey! i thought i was your favourite desk mate!” chenle, who was on the other side of jisung, whined. jisung let out a scoff, softly shoving his friend,

“that was three years ago, things change” chenle continued to sulk, jisung not paying any attention to him. y/n couldn’t hide her amusement, taking a small sip from the warm cup of goodness.

“thanks jisung, i’ll pay you back” she offered kindly, reaching for her bag, but jisung stopped her, his hand wrapping around her wrist. y/n’s eyes shifted from his hand, to his face. jisung quickly removed his hand from her wrist, placing them into the pockets of his large coat.

“it’s on me, take it as a thankyou, for being such a great partner” a soft grin was plastered on his face. y/n just nodded, continuing to sip on the drink. the game had finally started, cheers of their fellow classmates echoed throughout the stands. sungchan played his best, assisting jeno in scoring the winning goal. the group of four in the stands, wailed at the top of their lungs, gaining the attention of those around them. y/n couldn’t stop laughing, continuously slapping jisung’s arm as she did so. jisung couldn’t stop looking at her. all he could think about was how gorgeous she looked in this light, the state of pure happiness she was currently in. it was enough for him to fall harder for her. along with her, not so gentle, slaps to his arm, jisung could swear he was in heaven.

“i-i’m sorry, jisung” she quickly calmed down, now realising how hard her slaps actually were. jisung shook his head,

“its okay, i’ll be your human punching bag any day, if it means you’ll hang out with me more” he smirked, causing her mouth to open slightly. was this guy even real? how could he come up with such cheesy lines?

“you’re an odd character, park jisung” y/n slightly shook her head in amusement, allowing her arm to brush against his as they sat closer together.

“it’s one of my best qualities” it sure was.

after the game ended, sungchan ran up to the group, jumping up and down, still pumped from his win.

“you did amazing!” y/n engulfed him into a warm hug. jisung watched the interaction unfold, part of him wishing you would be comfortable enough to embrace him like that one day.

“thanks for coming guys, i really appreciate it” sungchan smiles over to jisung and chenle who were aimlessly standing.

“anyone wanna get milkshakes or something? on me” chenle suddenly pipes up, watching as everyone’s face lit up.

“and this is why you’re my best friend” jisung pulled the other boy by his shoulders as the rest followed the pair. it was short drive in sungchan’s car, to the nearest diner. y/n was slightly shivering whilst in the car, jisung immediately noticed. he debated on whether or not to offer her his coat, but didn’t want to seem too persistent about it. as y/n stepped out of the car, she felt strong shiver throughout her body. jisung pushes his prior worries aside, immediately slipping off his coat, draping it around her shoulders.

“o-oh you don’t have to do this, jisung” she tried to decline, but the boy refused.

“nope, you’re cold and i’m already warm in this hoodie, just accept it” he convinced her, not taking no for an answer. as the five of them stepped into the diner, ningning made a beeline for her favourite booth near the back window. she slid herself into the booth, with sungchan next to her. y/n slide herself in the seat across from her friends, jisung quickly shoving in right next to her, chenle on his other side, once again. ningning gave y/n a playful smirk, eyes scanning over the overly large coat she had on. y/n raised her eyebrows, eyes straining, warning her friend to not mention it.

y/n’s eyes shifted over to jisung, who had started a conversation with sungchan and chenle about some new video game that was coming out soon. she watched as he threw his head back in laughter, continuing to argue with chenle about who was the best avatar in the game.  she then noticed how he balled hands into fists, gently rubbing them against the surface of his pants. he would occasionally blow on them, trying his best to get some warmth. she felt guilty for taking his coat, but knew he would do anything in his power to have her wear it. so she swallowed some of her pride, reaching for his hands. jisung froze at the sudden contact, trying to not make it obvious to the rest that he was now disengaged from the conversation entirely.

“w-what are you doing?” he muttered, moving closer to y/n, which made her slightly blush. she pulled his hands into her lap, wrapping them in the excess material of the oversized coat.

“they looked cold, i’ll warm them up for you” she softly smiled, and jisung swore his heart was about to burst out of his chest. was this real life? it couldn’t be, it had to be some crazy dream he was having.

y/n noticed the sudden shyness from jisung, heat now rising to his ears. she would be lying if she said she didn’t find him adorable. her heart racing as the close contact.

the rest of the night was spent chatting away between the five of them. from how lee donghyuck got suspended for putting shaving cream in the soccer coach’s cap, to the dreaded mid term exams that were approaching. y/n wished she had participated more in the discussions, but her thoughts were too preoccupied by park jisung. his hands still rested in hers, her fingers slowly beginning to smooth over his own, making his heart skip beats. he felt himself lean in closer to her as the night went on, practically crushing her against the window, but she didn’t mind.

“we should get heading home now, our parents are probably wondering where we are” ningning pouted as they all raised from their seats. jisung didn’t want to pull his hands away from y/n’s, making the bold decision to intertwine their fingers as they left the diner. y/n’s eyes widened at his actions as he smiled down at her. they sat in the back of sungchan’s car, as y/n felt her head lean on jisung’s shoulder, her hand still holding his. her eyes slowly became drowsy, ready to fall asleep.

“you two are really cute” ningning whispered, not knowing that y/n was listening intently,

“t-thanks” jisung whispered back, trying his best to hide how happy he was by the comment.

“so are you confessing?” chenle snickered, causing jisung to roll his eyes,

“i want to take things slow. i want her to like me back first” jisung sighed, reaching to brush some of y/n’s hair from her face.

“oh trust me dude, she likes you. she just won’t admit it yet” sungchan smiled to himself, happy to see y/n finally start opening up again.

“good, cause i’m in it for the long run” oh park jisung, who wouldn’t fall for him?

//

when jisung got to school the following monday, he saw y/n standing at the front gates, swaying slightly. she was wearing black stockings with a plaid skirt and a creme coloured sweater vest. but she was wearing something else that caught his eye.

“goodmorning jisung” she greeted the boy, fast paced walking to meet him. jisung smiled softly at her, pulling his skateboard to his side.

“goodmorning, y-you’re wearing my coat” he pointed out, causing her to freeze slightly.

“o-oh yeah, do you mind? it’s been pretty chilly lately” she wrapped herself tighter, eyes facing the ground. jisung felt a swarm of butterflies emerge in his stomach, she really had that effect on him.

“it’s totally okay, you suit it better than i do” he softly chuckled, beginning to walk alongside her, arms brushing against eachother.

“you gotta stop saying stuff like that” y/n sighs, waltzing through the school hallway, to their history classroom.

“and why should i?” jisung playfully teased, tugging on her sleeve, turning her to face him. her hands instantly went to his chest, not realising how close he had pulled her to him.

“b-because” she spoke barely above a whisper. jisung’s eyebrows furrowed at her,

“because it’s making me feel things” was all she said as she pulled away from him, rushing to her desk. jisung couldn’t help but admire her awkwardness. he was slowly getting there, she had partially admitted to having feelings for him. but he knew she wasn’t going to fully admit it anytime soon. he had to make the first big move...but he needed some outside help.

//

“is there a reason why we are hiding from y/n right now?” ningning whispered, face to face with jisung.

“i want to confess to her” he blurted out, ningning’s eyes widening in shock.

“you want to confess to her?” she repeated, mind still trying to wrap around the situation.

“uh yes? is it so hard to believe? i thought i made it pretty obvio-“

“no no, i know you like her. it’s just that, she’s never EVER had a boy confess to her before. it’s always been her making the moves” ningning explains, jisung’s mouth pressing into a firm line.

“she’s not used to this type of attention. like where the guy is genuinely interested in her as a person, and the things she likes. she’s used to always getting to know the guy, doing everything in her power to gain some type of feelings for her. then she ends up hurt after she realises that she fell harder than they did for her” jisung would be lying if this wasn’t hurting him. how could they do that to someone as caring and loving as y/n?

“how do i show her that i’m different?” jisung stammers, nerves slowly taking over. ningning just giggles,

“you’re already half way there. trust me, she knows inside that you’re not like the rest. you just have to hit it out of the park with a bomb ass confession! here’s what i’m thinking...” ningning continues to whisper to the boy, jisung stringing along to every word. operation confession for y/n was underway.

//

“hey, are we ready to hand in our assignment?” y/n approached jisung just before class. he responded with an affirmative nod, pulling out the ten page report from his backpack. her eyes widened at his efforts, admiring how prettily he presented the report.

“j-jisung” she stuttered, flipping through each page.

“i had some spare time last night, don’t mention it” he winks at her as she felt heat rise to her cheeks. she quickly moved to her seat next to him, trying her best to hide her face with her hair. but jisung noticed, smirking to himself. could she be any more adorable?

“there’s another soccer game on friday! did you want to sit together again?” jisung turned over the the girl next to him, catching her completely off guard. y/n looked over to jisung, his face completely softened, his eyes practically begging her to say yes.

“y-yeah i’d like that” she nodded, silently cheering that she would get to spend another night with park jisung. the plan was now in motion.

//

jisung was standing under the bleachers, awaiting y/n’s arrival. chenle approached him, giving him a slight pat on the back.

“you ready, buddy?” chenle whispered, a cheery expression on his face. jisung slowly nodded.

“yeah, the worst she could say is no” jisung tried his best not to psych himself out, reviewing his confession in his head.

“they’re here” chenle announces, eyes drifting to y/n and ningning. jisung took a deep breath, moving slowly towards the pair of girls. y/n was the first to notice him, shooting him a small smile, meeting him halfway.

“good evening ladies” chenle greets, making ningning giggle.

“oh please, we are barely ladies” she sighs, stepping past groups of people to find a seat for the four of them. chenle followed her in suit, with y/n and jisung straggling behind. jisung nudged y/n’s shoulder, giving her a small nod. she returned the gesture, feeling slightly awkward. but she pushed it aside, happy to spend another evening with jisung. she noticed that throughout the game, jisung’s leg kept bouncing up and down. she sensed he was nervous about something, it was either that or he was just really cold.

“do you want my coat to cover your legs? i brought an extra blanket with me” y/n whispered to jisung, causing him to halt his movements. he looks over at her, as she was halfway to taking off her coat.

“why don’t we just share the blanket?” jisung slyly comments. now it was her turn to freeze. she looked over at him, lips pressed in a firm line. as she placed her coat back on, and pulled out the blanket, jisung could feel his heart pumping faster than it had ever before. this was a good sign, right? she must like him back...right?

y/n gently placed the half the blanket over his knees, moving herself closer to him to gather warmth. she didn’t say much to him after, too focused on the game they were watching. but the position they were in right now, was all that was on jisung’s mind.

the game ended with a close win by sungchan’s team. although everyone was celebrating, it was noticeable that sungchan was not proud of how he played.

“dude don’t beat yourself up about it, it happens to the best of us” chenle tried to comfort. sungchan just nodded, not wanting to talk much about it.

“okay grumpy pants, let’s go get some food” ningning pulls the sulky not by the arm, chenle on the other side of him, doing the same.

“you two coming?” ningning calls from behind her. before y/n could answer, jisung reaches for her wrist, stopping her in her path.

“c-could i steal y/n for the night?” jisung didn’t let go of her wrist, watching as their three friends all had identical smirks.

“sure thing, see you two tomorrow” chenle winks, rushing off with the others. y/n’s face contorted into utter confusion. the feeling of jisung’s warm hand wrapped around her wrist made her nervous. he let out a short cough before letting go.

“what did you want to talk about?” she questioned, allowing multiple students to pass by her. jisung didn’t respond immediately, pulling her to sit at the bleachers again. he reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a pink folded piece of paper. her eyes were immediately drawn to it, but part of her was still wondering what this entire debacle was about.

“i-i don’t want you to read this yet. well until i tell you what i have to say” jisung mutters, hands becoming sweaty. this was such a different jisung to watch y/n was used to seeing. he always made witty jokes out of any situation, and was barely ever...nervous.

“go on” she urged, eyes still glued to that piece of paper. jisung cleared just throat, eyes finally meeting those of the girls across from him.

“i have a crush on you” those words had y/n stunned. her mouth became agape, no proper words able to be formed. jisung decided to continue,

“i know that you aren’t looking for a relationship or anything. and you’ve been hurt before. but i just had to tell you. i couldn’t keep it inside anymore” he finally admitted, shoulders now slouching. his eyes wavered from hers at times, but they were now drawn to his hands. y/n wasn’t sure how to respond. this was her first ever confession. the first person to actually have interest in her first. she wasn’t used to this at all. jisung was a nice guy, she knew he was. but was he the guy for her? or was she just struck with the idea of him confessing first? did she even really like him that way?

jisung noticed the mini debate occurring in the girl’s mind, part of his ego becoming bruised. y/n wanted to say something articulate back to him but she couldn’t find the right words.

“uh t-thanks for telling me, jisung. it must have taken a lot of courage” that wasn’t the way he expected things to go, but he continued listening to her.

“but are you really sure you like me? like really sure?” y/n questioned, the idea still not wrapping around her head. jisung was in disbelief, was he not obvious enough?

“i’m more than sure. i’ve liked you ever since i’ve met you” he mutters, feeling completely dejected.

“t-that’s not possible. you didn’t even know me then” she shook her head, eyes drifting to the hurt expression that was now on jisung’s face.

“i didn’t need to. you were so beautiful to me. i had to get to know you. i thought i made it pretty obvious that i liked you. but i guess i should have done a bit more, maybe save myself the embarrassment” he mumbled the last part to himself. his words striking her right in the heart. she didn’t want to come off as rude or unappreciative. but how was she meant to know this wasn’t some kind of joke, or if his feelings were true.

“is it really that hard to believe that i like you?” jisung tried his best to remain calm, but he wanted nothing more than to dig a hole and lay in it.

“yes. it is. because guys don’t confess to me. they just don’t. they don’t fall for me first” she continued to tell herself, watching as jisung’s face flatten.

“you can keep thinking that. but it’s not true. i’m living proof. i really thought you liked me too. i must have misread this entire thing” hearing those words stung her heart. she did like jisung. maybe not as much as he claimed he liked her, but she definitely had feelings towards him as more than a friend. but she didn’t feel ready, for any of this.

“jisung, it’s not like that. i like you too, i just don’t think i’m ready” she whispers, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. jisung could barely look at her, an overwhelming wave of embarrassment washing over him.

“when will you ever be ready? because by the looks of it, it seems like you never will be” jisung shook his head, forcefully brushing through strands of his hair. y/n moved closer to the boy, placing her hand onto his shoulder. she felt him tense at the contact, his eyes finally coming back up to meet hers again.

“i-i don’t know when i’ll be ready. i just need some time to think about it” she sighed, not wanting to rub more salt into the wound. jisung only nodded in response. there was no use trying to convince her any further. jisung accepted her reasons, even though he held resentment towards her for initially rejecting him.

“i’ll give you some space. let me walk you home atleast” jisung stood up, offering his hand to her. y/n cautiously took his hand in hers, slowly walking alongside the tall boy.

silence filled the air on their walk home. the only sounds being heard were the hoots of owls and screeching of cicadas. jisung had let go of her hand along the way, which pained her to admit, she missed his touch immediately. as they made it to her front door step, jisung was in a rush to get home, ready to sob his eyes out. but y/n stopped him.

“i understand that you’re upset. trust me, i know how it feels. but i hope you can see where i’m coming from” she mumbled as jisung nodded along to her words.

“it’s fine, i get it. i’ll just give this to you now” he pulled out the folded paper from earlier, handing it over to her.

“if you still don’t believe i like you, that should give you a sign about how much i actually do. have a nice night” he shrugged at her, turning his back to walk away. she watched as he left her driveway, head hung low. she shook the thoughts out of her mind, opening the door to her house. she didn’t bother looking back at jisung, closing the door behind her. but just as she entered her home, jisung’s gaze lingered on her. how could she have hurt him so much in such a short amount of time, yet he still felt the exact same about her?

park jisung, you are a fool. he thought to himself on his way home. how would he move on from this?

//

after the long night she had, y/n wanted nothing more but to sleep her problems away. but as she held onto the pink paper in her hands, she knew she wasn’t getting any sleep. she seated herself on her bed, carefully unfolding the paper, her heart racing.

“dear y/n,

if you’re reading this, i’ve just confessed to you. and you’ve most likely rejected me. i understand why you did it, i really do. i just couldn’t hold it inside any longer. i know you aren’t looking for anything serious at the moment. but i want you to know that i’ll be waiting for you. i hope that one day you realise how amazing you really are, and how i would be the luckiest guy in the world, to have you reciprocate my feelings. i honestly feel like you’re out of my league. i mean, you’re so confident in yourself. and you never let people bring you down. you’re so optimistic about such trivial things, it’s started to rub off on me a bit. i appreciate the sweet moments we’ve had together, and i hope you do as well. i don’t want to lost hope, that’s something you’ve taught me. you’re now nearing the end of this awfully structured letter, and i just want to say, that you deserve the world, and i can be the guy to give it to you. if you just give me a chance.

- park jisung (you already know who it’s from i just wanted to sound formal okay bye)”

y/n suddenly felt tears stream down her cheeks. for once in her life, she felt truly appreciated and cared for in return. of course she could see herself with jisung. it wasn’t a hard decision for her to make up her mind about it. but her constant doubts always held her back. it wasn’t fair to jisung at all, to keep him stringing along. she needed to make a decision, quick. there was no way she was going to hurt this boy.

//

the following monday morning, jisung patiently awaited y/n’s arrival in class. he nibbled on the side of his lip, tapping his pen rapidly on the desk. other students asked him to stop, as they were getting annoyed at the sounds but he couldn’t help it. he was praying she read the letter and didn’t just discard of it.

just as he was slipping into his own thoughts, he felt a sudden slam of books on the desk. his eyes met y/n’s as she sat down next to him. his quickly broke eye contact, flipping through his textbook as if he was studying. but she caught on to the boy’s antics, tapping him on the shoulder. jisung froze at the contact, looking over at the girl, who was still wearing his jacket.

“this is for you” she pulled out a small jar of origami hearts, sliding it over to his side of the desk. she felt heat rise to her ears, slightly embarrassed at the sweet gesture. jisung was practically speechless, his heart beating at a rapid pace.

“wow thank you, i love it” he gave her a gentle smile, eyes suddenly disappearing. she only nodded back, unsure of how to continue.

“i read your letter” she got to the point, jisung’s attention fully attended to her.

“i didn’t realise you felt so deeply about me, jisung. i thought you just had a silly crush, maybe that’s why i thought it would be easy to push you away. but you never let it go. and i’ve never had anyone do that for me before. so thank you” y/n barely whispers, feeling her palms begin to sweat. which was only something that happened when she was extremely nervous.

“what i’m saying is. you’re not like the guys i’ve liked before. you like me for me, and you genuinely want to be with me. so would you consider going on a date with me to the movies this weekend?” she cautiously suggested, watching as the boy’s face lit up in utter glee. he wanted nothing more but to pull her close and swing her around as he hugged her. but they were still in class, he needed to be tame...for now.

“i would freaking love that” he chuckled, causing you to smirk at his response.

“i’m glad you accepted my confession, i would have given you the silent treatment if i really tried” jisung pouted, making a fake angry expression, crossing his arms. she gently slapped his shoulder, laughing at the boy’s ridiculous antics. if this what it was like dating park jisung, then bring it on.

//

[ three months later ]

“come on! sungchan shoot!!” ningning’s voice echoed through the stands, the whole crowd geared up for the school’s soccer grand final. y/n and jisung were bundled up together, sipping on their hot chocolates, silently praying for that grand final win. there was only a minute left, jeno passed to sungchan and...he scores!

all the students from their school

jumped up, screaming endless cheers at the team. ningning waved her mini flag she made with sungchan’s face on it, as y/n and jisung hollered with the crowd.

“you did so great out there” y/n complimented her friend, like many times before, pulling him into an embrace. she saw how jisung slightly pouted, missing her warm touch. she slipped perfectly back to his side, his arm instantly wrapped around her waist as the crew made their way to the diner. jisung held y/n back, offering to meet the rest later on. y/n was yet again confused, following her boyfriend’s steps to sit on the bleachers.

“what’s up, sung? everything okay?” she pouts, watching as jisung nervously looks up at her.

“i love you” he blurts out, hands covering his mouth once he does. her eyes widen, not expecting those three words to leave his mouth at all. she pressed her lips into a firm line, her mind comprehending the situation. jisung was left worried, trying to read her expressions as best he could. he hoped he didn’t scare her away, it would completely ruin him.

“you’re just in luck” jisung’s head whipped up and met her. “because i love you too” y/n whispered, inching closer to the boy. his hands gently stroked her cheek, it was slightly cold but she didn’t mind. her lips fanned over his, ready to press them together. as she did so, jisung smiled widely into the kiss, hands coming to squish her cheeks together. it made both of them giggle for a bit, breaking the kiss momentarily. before jisung pulled her back in.

y/n soon realised that she didn’t need to live in fear of rejection any longer. because jisung gave her every ounce of reassurance she needed. the boys from her past slowly fizzled away from her memory, jisung now taking place as the one boy who truly loved her.

a/n: pls let me know what you all think!! 

[attllhak]

Adoption AU - Wild and Warriors: The Epic Quest For Taco Bell at 3 am

@tortilla-of-courage so you mentioned you’d be interested in my Adoption AU one-shots, and now that things have calmed down in my house a bit I figured I’d post the first one-shot I wrote; the one about Wild and Warriors going for a Taco Bell run. Theoretically, I was going to do a one-shot for each grouping of boys, as an introduction, but I don’t think that’s happening anymore. Either way, here’s the first thing I wrote!

(And, anyone else who would like to be tagged if/when I post more for this AU, let me know here and I’ll make a list or something)

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

“anyone know any good substitutes for love and personal fulfilment?”

Warriors sent the tweet without much thought. He didn’t actually care about an answer, he just felt like venting about his most recent break up in a vague way, and thought he was being funny. He could already see Legend rolling his eyes.

His phone dinged a few times, one reply from Twilight, asking why he was up so late (which he’d responded to with the same inquiry, which had Twilight going silent), one from Legend mocking him, one from Hyrule trying to actually help. He was surprised how many of his brothers were up at this hour.

He dropped the phone on his bed, rubbing his eyes. He wasn’t actually all that tired, probably a consequence of having all afternoon classes and a habit of leaving his work to the last minute. Eh, the first year was supposed to be mostly parties anyways. (Not that Time would ever find out he said that.)

His phone dinged again and he groaned, eying the clock and the small bottle of melatonin next to it. 2:43 am. He should sleep. He didn’t have anything tomorrow, he finished his last final earlier that afternoon, though, so a few more minutes couldn’t hurt.

He picked up the phone and woke it up again. He blinked a few times at the new reply.

“crunchwrap supreme from taco bell”

He ignored Twilight yelling at Wild for being up, as apparently Wild did have a final tomorrow still. Not that Wild was paying any more attention.

He snorted, hitting the like button on Wild’s tweet and clicking off his phone. He reached up to stretch, yawning as he did. He eyed the melatonin bottle again. Technically, he didn’t need the supplements to sleep, but with how messed up his sleep schedule was, they did help him knock out when he planned on sleeping at a reasonable hour. This wasn’t a reasonable hour, but sleepiness hadn’t set in yet either.

Before he could decide, his phone lit up with a text notification. He tilted his head back and pointed his phone down to look at instead of dropping his arms.

Gordon Ramsey 2:44 am

lets go

Warriors blinked once. Then again. He unlocked his phone to type back.

what?????? go where?????

A second passed when he got a reply.

taco bell

for your substitute for love

since you got dumped and need something

oops was that too soon

sorry 

Warriors blinked at the screen again. Wild lived twenty minutes away from the university Warriors was attending, and the nearest Taco Bell was no closer. Plus, Time had revoked Wild’s driving privileges after he crashed his bike into the barn and broke both and his arm. There was no way Wild was getting to the university, much less a fast food joint. Especially at this hour.

and how do you plan to do that? You aren’t allowed to drive yet Mr. Broken Arm

you have a care

*car

That was a very good point.

you are suggesting that I drive 20mins outside of town to pick you up, drive another 20mins back into town, then drive around downtown until we find an open taco bell, at 3am on a school night before you have a final?

There was a few seconds pause, just long enough for Warriors to consider that he’d given up on it.

no

we wont be driving all over town

i googled it and found one

its like 10mins form your collage

*from

*college

Warriors considered that.

twilight won’t be happy

only if he finds out

Wild made a very good point.

how do you plan to get out of the house without him noticing?

i have a window war

The response was so immediate, and he was probably sleep deprived enough, that he burst out laughing when it sent.

20mins

He clicked his phone shut and shoved it in his pocket, grabbing a jacket and his scarf on the way out of his room. He was struggling to shrug them both on at once when he realized his roommate was still up too. There was a tense staredown as their eyes met and they both froze.

Volga broke the standoff by closing his book. “And where are you going at this hour?”

Warriors considered that. “My brother bribed me with food to break him out of the house,”

“At,” he glanced at his watch, “two forty-nine am?”

“Yes,”

The silence was tense.

Volga sighed and opened his book again. “Don’t crash and die, I’d hate to have to get a new roommate when I’ve finally gotten used to you,”

“Don’t burn the dorm down while I’m gone,” Warriors joked back, finally getting the fabric to work with him.

“It happened once, and it’s not like you’re any better at cooking!”

“I don’t set what I make on fire, and then freak out and throw it when blowing out that fire doesn’t work,” he grabbed his keys from the dish by the door and waved behind him.

“It happened once, Link!”

“And it’s why we order out now,” he grinned, ducking out the door. “See you later, Volg, be back in an hour or so,”

He could hear Volga’s angry shout through the door, so hurried down the stairs to the ground level as quickly as he could, before Volga woke their neighbor again.

He was still giggling when he got to the parking lot. Volga was just too easy to rile up.

The cool night air woke him up a little more so, and he took a deep breath as he located his car. A hand-me-down vehicle, he inherited it from Time when he was old enough to drive. Mostly this was so he could stop asking everyone else for their cars when he wanted to go somewhere. A little elbow grease however, and no one could tell it was at least 20 years old and not fresh off the lot. He made sure none of his brothers were allowed to drive it, especially after Wild got his bike stuck in a tree, or Legend crashed into a lake, or Twilight picked up drag racing, or Wild got his bike stuck on the roof, or Hyrule lost his car, or Four rolled his truck, or Wild and the barn literally last week. A lot of the crashes in the family came from Wild going ‘oh yeah? Watch this!’ now that he thought about it. It was a miracle he still had the same bike.

The twenty minute drive to the farm was pretty boring, nothing of note really happening.

He turned off his headlights as he pulled into the drive, not wanting to wake anyone, especially Time, up. He shot off a quick text to Wild when he parked.

A window opened and Legend’s head poked out to glare at him. His phone dinged.

Royal Pain 3:12 am

what are you doing here?

He glared back at Legend and typed out a response.

taco bell run

Legend glanced down, presumably at his phone, then back up a Warriors with an incredulous expression.

at 3am????

and if so why are you /here/????

Warriors pointedly looked around the house where Wild emerged from the bushes. Said brother grinned and popped open the passenger door to climb in.

“Hey,” he grinned. His hair was a mess, with at least two visible sticks stuck in it, and he was still in his sleep clothes. Despite this, he seemed fine.

“Legend has us made,” Warriors nodded to their brother, who was still glaring with his head out the window.

Royal Pain 3:15 am

twilight won’t be happy about this

Warriors frowned, trying to shield his phone from Wild as he typed back.

twilight won’t know

Warriors did not like the look in Legend’s eyes as he got the next text.

unless i tell him

Warriors glared up at his brother, working his jaw.

what do you want?

He hated the pleased grin Legend shot him.

the most expensive thing on the menu on your dime

fine

Warriors shoved his phone away with a growl, flipping off the overly smug Legend as he put the car in gear. “Asshole,” he muttered.

“What was that about?” Wild asked.

“We’re buying him food too now,” Warriors growled, flicking back on his headlights.

“Oh, cool,” Wild leaned back into the seat and pulled out his phone. “So the Taco Bell we’re going to only has the drive thru open, and it’s just off main street,”

Warriors nodded, focussing on the road and not that Wild had found the aux cord.

About thirty minutes later, as Wild finally turned down the music to provide directions, he snapped and turned to Warriors mid direction. “Do you want to sign my cast?”

Warriors blinked. “Maybe when we stop, I’m not crashing to sign your cast right now.”

Wild nodded, and pointed across Warriors at the street they had to go down.

They pulled into the drive thru and ordered, then had to wait for the very expensive thing Legend wanted. Warriors turned to Wild as the car idled.

“Do you have a marker?”

Wild blinked at him, then brightened up and offered out a sharpie and his right arm. The cast, under the signatures and well wishes of their family and all of Wild’s friends, was painted in very poorly drawn flames. Warriors raised an eyebrow as he searched for a clear spot to sign.

“Hyrule painted it for me,” Wild explained with a grin.

“Ah,” Warriors hummed as he finally tracked down an empty space by Wild’s elbow.

He scrawled out his name, not much room for anything else, and then handed the capped sharpie back to Wild while he twisted around to accept the food from the drive thru worker.

He shot off a text to Legend to let him know they had his food, alongside an upset emoji. Legend sent him a devil face emoji back. Wild dug through the bag for his food, sharpie stuck in his hair alongside the twigs, which seemed to be multiplying.

Warriors rolled his eyes and pulled back onto the road.

At some point, Wild pulled the wrap out and handed it to Warriors, who ate one handed as he drove. Wild was right about one thing, the wrap did taste very good.

He pulled into the drive of the farmhouse, headlights off, just as he finished off the wrap. He phone dinged the second he put the car in park.

Royal Pain 3:58 am

where’s my food bitch

Warriors looked up to the window where Legend was leaning out and glaring at him.

Wild laughed at the surly look on Legend’s face, climbing out and taking the bag with him. “I’ll feed him,” he promised, grinning. “Thanks for the trip, War!”

“No problem,” Warriors grinned back. “Just make sure you get to bed once you’re inside, so Twi doesn’t suspect in the morning,”

Wild gave him a thumbs up. He shut the door a little too hard, making Warriors wince, and bounced up to throw the bag up to Legend. Legend caught it the second time, when Wild opted to use his not broken arm to toss it, and disappeared inside again. Warriors’ phone dinged again a few seconds later.

Royal Pain 4:00 am

thanks pretty boy

your secret is safe with me

for now

Warriors rolled his eyes and sent him a thumbs up back, then pulled out of the drive again to head back to campus. He was actually starting to feel tired now, so he figured he’d get home and just crash. It’d be like, 4:30 in the morning by then, and he was pretty sure Volga would be asleep. And if he wasn’t, they had a rule that after 4 am until 7 they were allowed to ignore each other, so it’d be fine.

Volga was asleep when Warriors snuck in, passed out in a chair with the book on his chest. Warriors took the sight in, then sighed.

He dropped his keys in the dish, then pulled off his jacket and scarf to hang in his room. He grabbed a bookmark off his shelf and wandered back out to pull the book off of Volga’s chest and set it down so the spine wouldn’t crease. He left Volga like that, however. He didn’t want the books to get damaged, but if Volga was dumb enough to fall asleep in the common room without a blanket, then he deserved what he woke up with.

He was very lucky that Warriors was too tired to find a sharpie.

He fell asleep before remembering to take off his shoes.

(---)

The next morning, so about noon, he was woken by Volga pounding on the door to put his phone on silent.

His phone buzzed on the desk next to him and he pulled it off and up to his head, hitting answer before looking at the contact.

“Hullo?” He slurred, still half asleep.

“Twilight knows,” Legend greeted him.

“What?” Warriors sat up, groaning as his back complained from sleeping on his stomach all night. It took a second for his brain to catch up.

“Twilight knows,” Legend repeated. “Hyrule sold you out, unintentionally, and I can hear him selling you both out to Time,”

Warriors blanched as the words registered. “Oh shit,” he threw himself out of bed, hissing as he realized he slept fully dressed, and scrambled for the things he’d need in order to flee. “How long?”

“Twenty minutes if you get lucky and Wind pulls through, less if not,”

Warriors cursed under his breath as he changed his shirt and tried to make it look like he hadn’t been sleeping in what he was wearing. “Thanks for the heads up, I’d say I owe you but,”

“You’d rather not owe me,”

“Yeah,”

“Look, if you get caught and cave, I go down too. This is self-preservation. Don’t cave and we’re even.”

“Got it, I won’t,”

“You better not,” Legend hissed. “Good luck,”

“Thanks,” Warriors nodded, even though Legend couldn’t see him.

He tossed the phone on his dresser as the line went dead and he went about trying to comb through his hair so he looked presentable.

A hard knock on his door came a few seconds later.

“I put my phone on vibrate, Volga!” He shouted through the door. “You can drop it now!”

“Link?”

Warriors paused, then opened the door. Lana, Impa and Artemis waited on the other side, Volga glaring at them and hovering behind them.

Warriors blinked dumbly at them. “Uh, hi?”

“Hi Link! Good morning!” Lana grinned and waved at him.

“It’s noon,” Impa reminded the group, eying Warriors up and down.

“Oh, right,” Lana nodded, then went back to grinning at him. “Good noon, Link!”

He snorted and shook his head to clear it. “Good noon to you too, Lana. Can I ask what you’re all doing here?”

“We were hoping you’d join us for something,” Artemis smiled at him, also looking him over, trying to find whatever Impa had picked up on. “We’re going on a small road trip since all our finals are over, and we were planning on hitting a few different cities over the week,”

“Mhm,” Lana nodded quickly. “We’re leaving today, and are taking no calls until we get back, and we’re camping in the car, which is why we’re using my van, and we were hoping you’d come with us,”

“I’m in,”

The three girls blinked at him. Maybe he answered too fast, but taking no calls, meaning no contact with his family, for a week gave them time to move past this, and he really didn’t want to deal with a lecture from Time. His friends just offered him asylum, whether they knew it or not.

Impa narrowed her eyes. “What happened with your family?” She asked, already onto him.

“Nothing that’s my fault,” he responded, ducking back into his room. “What should I bring with?”

Lana listed off what they figured they’d take and he pulled out a suitcase, nodding along as he started packing. He fired off a text to the group chat as he grabbed his jacket, tossed over one arm, and wrapped his scarf around his neck.

World’s Best Captain 11:39 am

Leaving on a road trip with some friends. Be back in a week, but I can’t take calls until I’m back. Don’t kill each other!

He put his phone on silent and slipped it into his pocket.

He might have a hellish text backlog when he got back, but it’d be better than the lecture from Time. And besides, he got to spend a week with the best girls he knew.

As far as he was concerned, everything worked out win-win for him.

Wild was right, the crunchwrap supreme from Taco Bell did work wonders in supplying love and personal fulfilment, even if not in the way he meant it.

He made a note to get Wild something as thanks while they were out. Maybe some crash pads. Goddesses knew that his brother needed them.

[samstrugglingwithlife]

Babysitting With A  Reserved Male Friend And Developing A Crush On Him

Genre: Fluff

Characters: Ushijima, Osamu, Daichi

Warning: Swearing.

A/n: Male reader x character. This is super long, I sorta got carried away. I GOT CARRIED AWAY WAY TOO FAR MAN! The premise of this ask was so cute and I can only hope I did it justice. I hope you guys enjoy it. This is my first time writing for a male reader so let me know if I did something wrong or if I didn’t capture the essence right. 

It’s super long, so everything is under the cut.

USHIJIMA

This guy is pretty reserved himself, and on top of it, he's also pretty blunt and says things without much consideration. The two of you became 'friends' in your first year when one of the teachers asked you to help him with his studies.

You realised that Wakatoshi is not really as cold as he is clueless. Also, he was a bit of a dumbass, you were pretty surprised when you found out that his brain functioned at full capacity only when it came to volleyball. (A/N: Boy thought that the earth is flat and that Hinata was muscle training by clinging upside down to the surface on the other side of the planet... such dumbassery, I want him.)

You're third years now; you guys have been friends for about two years. Ushijima and you are both serious guys, you two like each other's companies even when you two sit together in silence.

It was a week before exams, that's when the two of you would usually get together in Ushijima's dorm room, and you would tutor him.

"Y/n," he called you just as you left your last class of the day. "Hmm?" "Are you coming today?"

You sigh, "Sorry. Maybe tomorrow. I have to babysit my little sister tonight," he nodded in reply and proceeded to walk away. You thought about it a little and called out to him, "Hey, you can come to my house. I was gonna study literature today." 

Wakatoshi nodded and promised to see you at your place after practice. You texted him your address.

Outside the boundaries of your home, you were very reserved, you kept to yourself and hardly had any friends other than Ushijima, and Tendou by extension. At home, you were a loving brother, you played with your sister, and you were her best friend; she was the reason you decided not to live in the Shiratorizawa dorms. 

That evening, around six, Ushijima showed up at your place. He had never seen you in casual clothes before, you two only ever hung out at school, so he had only seen you in uniform, but you looked cute; he was dressed in his jogging tracksuit, typical.

Your sister was busy watching her favourite cartoons, so she didn't pay any attention as you led him to your room. You left him there to go get the two of you drinks from the kitchen.

Your room was just like you, it gave nothing away. It was sparsely furnished with only a bed, a dresser and a study table. All the colours were plain and neutral. However, there was one thing that stood out, a corkboard. It was covered in children's drawings and pictures of you and your baby sister. 

There was one photo of you that caught his eye, it was you with your sister in your arms, and the two of you were grinning from ear to ear, paint smeared on both your cheeks.

"It was last month," Ushijima turned towards you. You walked further into your room, placing the tray with your drinks on your study table, you stand beside him and stare fondly at the photo. You trace your fingers gently over it, a small smile playing at your lips, his heart does a little ba-dump.

The two of you are immersed in your studies until your baby sister opens your door just a crack, "Nii-chan..." she calls out groggily, her little fists rubbing her eyes. You turn towards her and get up from your seat, picking her up. You look at the alarm clock and inhale in disbelief, "Oh! It's that late?" 

"It's way past your bed time!" you pat her head as she places it in the crook of your neck and shoulder, tired. You softly hum a lullaby as you gently rock her. Ushijima's heart does another flip. He had known you for two years, but he had never seen you like this, with a sweet smile on your face and a gentle cadence in your voice. He didn't know you after all.

After you tuck your sister in bed, you walk with Wakatoshi to the end of your street. He always enjoyed your company, during lunch, in his dorm room when you helped him out with homework, yet he never in these two years felt what he felt in the last two hours.

Ever since that day, his heart always did a flip whenever you were around, he felt the urge to be near you, he felt protective of you. He didn't know what to call this feeling, but he quite liked it, whatever it was.

OSAMU

You and Osamu were classmates, you were his seat neighbour. The two of you became friends when Osamu offered to share his homemade onigiri with you, and you decided to share your homemade dessert with him. He enjoyed the feedback you gave him about his food. He wasn't exactly a fan of sweet things, but the desserts you made were to die for.

Osamu figured early on that you liked to keep to yourself most of the time, you just couldn't get along with your peers. You were on the soccer team but you never hung out with your teammates after practice, so far, Osamu was your only friend. You were both the quiet type, neither of you spoke much, but you always shared your lunches and sometimes chatted about your clubs - Osamu liked to complain about Atsumu sometimes, you found it very amusing.

It was during summer break. The two of you were texting (dry ass texters both of you), he was complaining about his brother and wanted to get out of the house. He invited you to hang out,  but you had to decline because your mother was away on a work trip leaving you to look after your nine years old little twin brothers. You told him that he is welcomed to come to your place and hang out if he really wants to get away from Atsumu.

Osamu took you up on your offer, and within half an hour, he was at your doorstep, a bag of ingredients and snacks in his arms. The first thing he sees when you open the door to let him in is two identical twin boys clinging to you, all of you covered in flour. 

You let him in, "We were just baking," you tell him awkwardly. You had flour in your hair, on your cheeks, your t-shirt, and your arms; for some reason, Osamu's heart quickened in his chest. 

You looked questioningly at the bag in his hands, "Was gonna make onigiri..." he mumbles. Your brothers perked up, "Really?" they asked simultaneously. You chuckled at their voices. It was as if an arrow shot him straight through his heart. He had never heard you could laugh like that. How could you sound so boyish, so cute? 

Nonetheless, Osamu followed you to the kitchen. You picked the boys up and sat them on the counter with a grunt, "Ushah! Now sit tight and lemme work ya lill' runts!" you playfully scold them. Osamu blinked, who were you? He didn't know this Y/n at all; the Y/n he knew spoke quietly and never uttered more than three words at a time, he especially did not make that fuckin' cute grunting sound. 

He unloaded the items onto the counter next to you, he leaned closer to look into your bowl, "What're you makin'?" he asked. "Cookies," you reply. "I saw it online, wanna try it out."

You were busy working on your dough, animatedly interacting with your brothers, as Osamu rolled the onigiri, stealing little glances at you. He was caught completely off guard when he heard you laugh loudly at something your little brothers did, his face flushed as he looked at you, you sounded so different, so charming, your face looked so handsome and cute. He was seeing things he never noticed before, like how one of your incisors was sharper than the other and like despite being big and strong, your hands were so beautiful and so attractive in the way they delicately dealt with the food. "Osamu! yer squeezin' the rice too hard!" oh shit! He turned the rice ball into mulch.

After cleaning up, eating and playing with the boys, you found yourself seeing Osamu off at the door at the end of the day. "Sorry 'bout my brothers," you say as you nervously rub the back of your neck. "Don't worry 'bout it," he replies softly and places his hand on your head shocking both you and him. He retracts it quickly, "I-I had fun, see ya later," he says and hurriedly walks away.

"Ya had fun?"Atsumu asks him when he finally gets home and buries his face in his pillows. "Fuckin' cute..." Osamu mumbles to himself. "What?" Atsumu asks, not really catching what his brother said. "Shaddup," he replies. "YOU PICKIN' A FIGHT ASSHOLE?!!" 

DAICHI

You and Daichi were neighbours. He knew you since you two were little so he knew you had trouble getting along with others and you mostly kept to yourself. He was the only exception, but even with him, you never spoke much.

Both of your parents were close friends as well, and both of your younger siblings were more or less in the same age group.

You often looked after all the children when the grown-ups had to go out since Daichi had club activities that ran pretty long on most days. The kids loved you, though Daichi found it hard to believe that such a quiet and reserved guy could entertain a bunch of hyperactive kids.

Today as well, you were in charge of taking care of the children as the adults left to go enjoy Friday. You were in the Sawamura household with the children, Daichi was still at practice.

On his end, Daichi felt relieved that practice ended early today and coach Ukai allowed them to go home. After buying his teammates pork buns he made his way home.

What he came home to caught him off guard, you were sitting on the couch with a storybook in your hands as the kids all sat in front of you on little cushions; you were reading to them, doing all the voices quite animatedly.

All of you heard him enter the house. The kids ran to him and swarmed around him, greeting him. "Y/n onii-san was reading a story to us!" his little sister exclaims. "Is that so?" "Wanna join us?" your brother asks him. "Sure."

Daichi took a seat beside you, you nod at him in a greeting. He rolls his eyes, "Hello to you too."

As you continued the story, the kids demanded that Daichi should do the voices as well. "I'm the wizard and the dragon," you tell him. "You have to be the princess and the parrot." Daichi groaned, "They're both very high pitched, I literally cannot do that!" You shrugged, "Not my problem."

As you continued the story and did your voices, Daichi kept his eyes on you, in all the years he had known you, this was the first time he had seen this side of you. Honestly, this bright personality suited you.

Soon his turn came, you scooted closer to him so you could share the book. "Oh no, I'm trapped in the tower," he started in his usual voice, all the kids whined, "Onii-chan! You have to do the voice!" his sister scolded him. Daichi sighed, "Help me!" he cried out the dialogue in a much higher pitch. "Pfft!"

He turned to glare at you and yell but his words got caught in his throat, your shoulders were shaking in a silent laugh, your hand on your mouth. Your eyes met his, they were so bright and looked so cheerfully youthful, so different from your usual look of guarded emotions. His breath hitched and he felt his face grow warmer as his heart did somersaults in his chest. 'It's the embarrassment,' he tried to convince himself. 

He didn't know that he was staring that long until you nudged his knee with yours and pointed at his next line. Daichi cleared his throat and read it in a high pitch voice.

After the story was finished, the kids were sitting together and eating their snacks. Daichi slumped against the back of the couch, deep in thought, did his heart race because of you or the embarrassment?

"Hey," he looked up, you were standing over him, a glass of water in your hand. He sat up and gratefully took the drink from you, his fingers lightly brushed against yours and he felt his heart jolt in his chest. You didn't seem affected at all. 'It was because of you after all.'

"Thanks for playing along, man," you say in your usual reticent tone. Daichi shook his head and chuckled, "Like I had a choice," you chuckled at that.

From that moment onwards, Daichi was hyper-aware of everything you did, the way you looked in your uniform, the way your features were so boyish and young looking, the way your lips moved when you spoke.

Daichi cursed himself for having a crush on his childhood friend who also happened to be a guy; he needed to get over it fast so you wouldn't find out, afraid that you would distance yourself out of disgust if you ever got to know his feelings. Until then, however, he was going to hang around you as much as he could, just so he could admire you a little more before the crush wore off.

Spoiler alert! It never wore off and you found out.

[speechlessxx]

I Can Keep A Secret. - 4 (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Chapter Summary: In a jealous rage, Steve accidentally says something he doesn’t mean as he discovers something personal about the reader. 

Warnings: no Clark in this chapter, slight fingering (18+ Minors DNI), nudity but not really, lots of cussing, angsty, make-out scene, shitty writing (it’s been a while i’m sorry!), AGE GAP (reader is stated to be 21 but age is just a number. call her wtv age you want). 

Word Count: ~2.7k 

again... i apologize this sucks. i haven’t written anything since like august. 

Buy me a Ko-Fi (not necessary but i’m broke, yo) 

<- Last Part -=+=- Next Part ->

Steve never considered himself a jealous man. When he was involved with Sharon Carter, he never paid any mind to the revolving door of “friends” she entertained. Truthfully, throughout the numerous relationships he’s had in his life, Steve Rogers had never been the one to be jealous.

How could he?

Steve didn’t think he was an egomaniac nor narcissistic – not in the way that Tony Stark was, at least. But he knew he was charming. He knew he was wealthy – the black cards in his Burberry wallet reminded him of that. He knew he was handsome. He knew his worth – hell, even Forbes did.

His thoughts had never been infiltrated by the ugly, green rage monster that filled his head with insecurities. That is… Until the headlines and photographs of (Y/N) Barnes’s dinner date with “America’s richest and handsomest” bachelor, Clark Kent, had made its rounds.

It was a form of self-torture as he scrolled furiously through the many posts about the two.

Dynasties Colliding!

Clark Kent off the Market?

Everything you need to know about (Y/N) Barnes, Clark Kent’s new girlfriend.

He clicked his tongue in disgust at that last article as he skimmed through it. It was obvious that the writer had a biased opinion – one so clearly against (Y/N) – as it pointed out her “college dropout” status and her “naivete” to be involved with a man ten years her senior.

He scoffed… If only they knew.

Though, Steve couldn’t help but compare himself to the younger man. Sure, Clark was richer than he was with a booming business and a company created generations before Steve was even born. His net worth pushed him much higher than Steve and Bucky on the Forbes’s listings. But surely, he didn’t have the same chemistry as he and (Y/N) did… Surely.

As if to mock him, a photo of Clark kissing her knuckles appeared on his monitor. He glared at it, fuming with hot jealousy. He hated that feeling bubbling inside as he stared at her flustered face digitally immortalized by paparazzi and fan photos.

His phone buzzed to life as the screen displayed her name… And he did what he had been doing for the past few days following the polo match, he sent it straight to voicemail, spiteful that she even entertained Clark’s request to go on a date.

Had he misread the signs? Had there been any signs to begin with? Had she played him? Was he just her happy distraction until she could find her bearings in New York?

A sharp knock interrupted him from his thoughts as Bucky’s broad shoulders filled his open office door. He had a wide smile on his face as he entered the room, closing the door.

“You read the gossip?” Bucky chuckled. A sly smirk on his face as he sat himself in the seat across Steve’s desk. Steve quickly clicked out of his tabs and raised his brows at Bucky. “With (Y/N) getting Clark interested, other investors are looking at us, too. It’s great.”

“So, you’re really using your daughter to lure business opportunities?” Steve snorted. Considering how enchanting she was, it wasn’t a terrible strategy. If Steve hadn’t gotten so attached so quickly, he’d even advise Bucky to have her stalk the airport terminals, too.

“It’s working, man. He’s interested in the company. He wants a tour. He’s talking big money. We can scrap any deals with Stark. He’s our top priority now.”

“Buck,” Steve laughed so dryly it became a scoff. “He’s not interested in the company. He’s clearly interested in her – and only her. As soon as you give the green light and she rips the cord with him, he’s gonna back out. He’s got the lawyers to make sure that any contract he signs will get voided, too.”

His tone had been hopeful although Bucky didn’t pick up on it. Bucky had just waved it off as Steve being cautious – not Steve hoping that his daughter would dump Clark and focus all her attention back on him.

“No, no.” Bucky shook his head, waving his hand, too. “She’s equally into him. Piqued her interest more than Peter did, for sure.” Steve stopped himself from rolling his eyes, knowing damn well that she was never interested in the Stark boy. “He dropped her off and she was blushing like crazy. Ran to her room and practically screamed her head off with that Wanda girl on the phone.”

Steve pressed his lips into a straight line. He didn’t trust himself enough to respond, knowing any sarcastic remark would land him in the hot seat, with Bucky asking questions he wasn’t ready to answer… or rather, didn’t have the answers to.

“Besides… y’know one contract that’s incredibly difficult to get out of?” Steve hummed. “A marriage.”

Steve choked. “Marriage? Buck, c’mon, she’s twenty-one.” Bucky nodded, taking his daughter’s age into consideration. “Marriages are definitely the easiest to get out of. Must I remind you the reason why you haven’t seen her since she was a baby?”

“Hey!”

“Besides, isn’t he too old for her?” Steve internally cringed. Suddenly, wishing he could take it back, afraid of what Bucky would say. Like you aren’t thirty-nine, dumbass?

“He’s thirty-three. She’s twenty-one. She can date whoever she wants. She’s an adult.”

“That’s dangerously permissive.” Stop talking.

“Why’re you acting like her father, Steve?” Bucky asked, raising his brows inquisitively.

“I’m just saying, Clark’s closer in age with us than with (Y/N).” Steve shrugged. “I’m just looking out for her.”

I just want her to myself.

“Well, since you’re oh-so invested in looking out for her, I’m gonna need a favor.”

»————-　♡　————-««

Out of the many things to do on a Friday night in the big city, Steve found himself walking through the threshold of the Barnes’s penthouse. He silent cursed at Bucky, who asked him to look after his daughter for the weekend. The same daughter he had been avoiding for the past week, blowing off her calls and leaving her texts unread.

Steve found Bucky’s favor to be a direct contradiction to the statement he made prior. She’s twenty-one. She’s an adult. An adult who needed another adult’s supervision as it seemed.

However, Steve understood. She was relatively new to the city, only being here for a little over a month and a half, and known for her reckless behavior back in Los Angeles – the reason why she was in New York to begin with. Although Bucky didn’t quite keep her on a tight leash, he kept on a leash, nevertheless.

Bucky had already left that afternoon, leaving the penthouse somewhat quiet save for the music coming from the hallway that led into (Y/N)’s bedroom. He cracked a smile as he approached the hall. He could hear her obnoxiously singing along to the provocative lyrics of that one song – WAP, was it?

His hand absentmindedly found its way to her doorknob, twisting the metal and pushing the door open. She shrieked as her phone fell from her hands with a thud against the floor. She scrambled for her towel that lay haphazardly on her bed, messily wrapping it around her naked body.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” She screamed over the music. 

Steve stared at her with wide eyes like a deer in headlights. Her hair was still damp, knotting and begging to be combed out. Her chest heaved as she breathed heavily. The towel did little to hide her from his hungry eyes as he fought to keep his stare at her face and only her face. She called for the Alexa to stop playing the music before running a hand through her knotted hair. 

“Steve, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Your – your dad asked me to – uh – “he was losing the battle as his eyes gave her a look over, feeling the heat rise to his face. It was not the only thing that has risen. He tore his stare away from her, scanning the room instead. “He asked me to watch over you.” Steve explained, finally finding the words.

“Like a babysitter?” She scoffed. She had been itching to see Steve, hating him just a bit for ghosting her, but looking like that? She was willing to forgive.

“Yeah…” Steve nodded.

“Well,” she smirked playfully, “since you’re baby-sitting… Why don’t you let your baby sit on your lap, huh, daddy?” She batted her lashes at him, and he instantly melted, forgetting his jealousy and spite for just a second. She reached out for him and had him sit at the edge of her bed, straddling his thick thighs. “Excited to see me?”

His resolve and pent-up angst disappeared. “You’re damn right.” Steve muttered, hand fisting her knotted hair and smashing his lips onto hers. The kiss was every bit hungry and desperate as it was passionate – like two star crossed lovers finally catching a moment alone.

She moaned into his mouth as his free hand slipped beneath her towel, which was loosening as she grinded against his strained pants. His fingers explored her slit, fumbling as he tried to find her bundle of nerves.

“I missed you,” she gasped as he found it within seconds, rubbing tight circles around her clit.

His lips left a trail of kisses along her jaw and sucked the sensitive skin under her ear, eliciting long moan from her as he played with her, relishing in her responsiveness. He felt her juices coat his fingers as he teased her hole, but the moment suddenly cut short when her phone dinged.

Once. And then a second, then a third.

She looked over her shoulder and glanced down at the screen. Steve pinched her, causing her to gasp again. “Don’t.” He warned her, his voice a deep growl.

It dinged again. “I’m gonna silent it,” she promised, pecking his lips as she hopped off his lap. “Oh,” she frowned. She ran a hand through her knotted hair before glancing at him, then typing.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked her as he stood from her bed and walked over to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist as he pulled her into him.

“I… Uh… Clark wants to hang out again.” She told him.

Steve rolled his eyes though she didn’t see. “Blow him off.” He told her, leaving a trail of kisses on her shoulders, leading back up to that sweet spot beneath her ear. Her eyes rolled back before she pushed away from him. “We haven’t seen each other in days – “

“Because someone kept sending me to voicemail,” she rebutted. “I-I have to go see him, Steve. If my dad found out – “

“Then tell him you’re not into him.” Steve insisted. She remained silent as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear. Steve frowned. “Wait, are you – are you into him?”

“I dunno…”

“You don’t know?” He asked her. “If you’re into him, the hell are you sitting on top of me naked for?”

“Steve – “

“God, it’s like you like making yourself easy to guys.” The envy – the green, little monster that tore at his ego and his heart – suddenly rose. No thoughts were running through his head – just angry words from his mouth.

“Excuse me?” An enraged look splayed across her face. Brows furrowed and arms crossed defensively.

“Well, considering you sold pictures of yourself to total strangers – “he stopped himself before the rest of the sentence. The self-control had finally resurfaced, but the damage had been done as fury in her features mellowed and turned into hurt.

“Is that… Is that what you think of me?” She asked him, willing her voice not to crack but the tears had already begun to form. She furiously blinked them away before huffing. “Well, it doesn’t matter what you think anyway ‘cause I’m not with you.”

“And what you’re with Clark Kent?” He seethed his name.

“At least he doesn’t call me easy.”

Steve chuckled, dryly. “Bar’s set low then, huh? Says the girl who sucked me off on the airplane when we knew each other less than two hours. Wonder the things you’d do for him.” It was spite. His words were pure spite and jealousy. They held no meaning but they sure had weight. 

“What’s your problem?” She snapped. “Damn it, Steve! I like you. I really do, genuinely, but y’know it fucking sucks when the guy you like suddenly ghosts you.”

“And it fucking sucks when the girl you’re actually interested in goes on a date with some hot shot, pretty, rich boy. Probably fucks him in the back of his limo, too.”

She stomped over to Steve, shoving him with one hand while the other kept her towel from slipping off. “Get. Out!”

“No, no,” Steve argued, grabbing her arm easily overpowering her to stop pushing him. “You’re gonna answer.” She raised her brows at him. “Are you fucking him in the back of his limo? Are you that easy?”

Her jaw dropped as she stared at him in disbelief. “You’re not my dad, so that’s none of your concern.” She began to push him towards her door, and he let her this time. “And…” Her fingers tapped against the wooden door as she stared back at him. 

“It’s none of your business, but for your information, I’m a virgin.” She clicked her tongue as a smirk splayed across her face. “Won’t be for long, though. ‘Cause Mr. Kent is inviting back to one of his many lavish, expensive homes in New York.”

And with that she slammed the door shut, locking it with the new lock her father had installed.

»————-　♡　————-««

“(Y/N)…” He called out to her, knocking on her door. “C’mon, sweetheart.” It had been half an hour since their fight, and she had yet to come out of her room.

“Go away!” She called out from the other side of the wooden pane as if she were a child.

“I’m sorry, alright? I didn’t mean it. I was just jealous – “

“I don’t care, Steve!”

He sighed. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s go out for dinner, yeah? Just me and you. Whatever you want. You wanna embarrass me by making me use chopsticks? Let’s go. You wanna hit me with a bottle of champagne? Take your pick. I’m down.”

“Fuck off, asshole!”

You deserve that. He agreed.

Steve suddenly heard a click of the lock before she pulled the door open, pushing past him and he let her. She had a duffle in one hand and her phone in the other, typing away. “Where are you going?”

“Away from you,” she spat. She didn’t even spare him a second look.

“You going with Clark?”

“None of your business, dick.”

He called her full name and she stopped in her tracks, spinning on her heel to look at him with her brows raised. Steve had his hands on his hips as he stared at the floor before looking down at her. “You are not leaving and that’s final.”

“Oh, yeah?” She challenged, taking a step towards him. Her heel clicking against the ground. She crossed her arms across her chest as she tilted her head. “And what? You’re gonna stop me?”

“Don’t make me, sweetheart.”

“Well,” she smirked. “Take it up with my dad… because unlike you, he actually approves of my blossoming relationship with Clark Kent. I swear he’s already planning the wedding … while I, on the other hand, all I care about is the honeymoon… And I think we’re gonna get a head start to it, actually.”

Steve took a step towards her as she took a step back. “Stop being a little brat and just – “

“No, Steve,” she corrected. “I’m being easy. And you’re completely right… Sometimes being easy is just fun.”

He grabbed her arm before she could turn around and pulled her towards him. She bit her lip as she stared up at him with faux innocence. Her lips glistened with whatever gloss it was she used to make her lips plump as she challenged every bit of authority Steve had.

He wanted nothing more than to kiss that bratty attitude right out of her. He leaned in as her eyes fluttered close and he knew he had her. Then, suddenly, the elevator doors dinged and opened, ruining the moment. Both their heads snapped towards the guest.

“What the hell?” 

[pagingevilspawn]

how's your heart after breaking mine?

ts x jolex week 21

day one: fearless - mr. perfectly fine (taylor's verion) (from the vault)

wc: 2.5k

pairing: Jo Wilson/Alex Karev. Alex Karev/Izzie Steven (mentioned)

summary: years after they last saw each other, jo and alex reunite at a conference, and while she is still struggling from her heartache, he seems to be mr. perfectly fine.

rating: general audiences

category: angst.

warnings: angst, no happy ending, alcohol consumption.

A/N: guess who finished this just now? me. that's who. I was actually working on this one long before the announcement for this event came out, but it gave me the motivation to continue this! Alex is unintentionally an ass in this and for that, i’m sorry. Anyways… hope you enjoy! (first part's pretty crappy, but after that it gets better.)

(this was also proofread, like...once, so of there are a plethora of errors i apologize)

____

The absolute last thing Jo wanted right now was to attend a medical conference in Salt Lake City, Utah. There were multiple reasons why she should’ve said no. One; she had just started her second year of her OB GYN residency a few weeks prior, and there were a very limited number of lectures on her new line of study where she was headed. Two; she now held an absolute hatred for the Seattle Tacoma International Airport, since it was the place where her ex-husband stood before her, placed a soft kiss on her lips and promised to see her in a couple of weeks, lying to her face about seeing his mother in Iowa, when in reality he was going to see his ex-wife and kids, never really planning on returning home.

It was ironic really; how not even two years ago, she was standing in front of gate 48, saying goodbye to him, and now she stood in the same spot, in front of the exact same gate, with him nowhere near her side as she glared up at the same exact entrance she last saw him at.

(She also now hated the number forty-eight)

But, since Meredith had been hounding her non-stop about attending this event, she gave in. Because how was she supposed to say no to the woman who had barely survived the pandemic? Along with a plethora of other things she was too lazy to memorize. (The answer was that she couldn’t. She felt guilty for leaving Meredith behind for OB, so she now did whatever her former mentor wanted, even if more than two years had passed) If Meredith Grey asked for something, Meredith Grey got it. She was turning back into the intern who cried fake tears and would do anything to earn her approval, and Jo was not a fan.

“It’ll be good for you Wilson. You need to leave that loft of your’s and go somewhere Wilson, blah blah blah,” she mutters to herself as she shows the attendant her ticket, not even bothering to return the smile, settling on brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear instead. The messy bun on the top of her head bounced in place, and she felt like a college student after a night of studying, but rather than books tucked under her arm it was a neck pillow and a carry-on.

She shuffles into her seat, thankful that it was an aisle one before letting her eyes shut, trying to catch a wink of sleep in an attempt to make up for the less than few hours she had gotten the night before. It proves to be unsuccessful, because the businessman sitting next to her ate his chips so loud she had to restrain herself from coiling into herself every time a chip crunched beneath his teeth, and the toddler behind her continuously managed to kick her seat, no matter how many times his mother told him to stop.

After three hours of loud chewing, seat kicking, and crying babies, she lands in Salt Lake, taking in a deep breath when she finally escapes the crowded airport and is met with humid air. She picks up her rental car, and arrives at her hotel not long after, immediately tossing her bags into the corner and sprawling onto the bed. Eventually, she moves to unpack her clothes and other necessities, casting a glance at the clock which read 10:37.

Taking a look around the room, she decided that nothing more needs to be done; all of her makeup is laid out for the morning, and what she chose to wear is already hanging up in the closet, freshly ironed and wrinkle-free. She yawns, crawling under the covers and flicking off the light, sleep coming easily.

When she wakes up the next morning to her alarm clock going off, she’s freshly rested and in a better mood than she normally was when she had to wake up before nine. The early morning sun beats down onto her face, and she knows that if she wanted to get to the first lecture on time, she needed to start getting ready sooner rather than later.

With a sigh, she begrudgingly gets out of bed, hopping in a quick shower and changing into her clothes. She adds some soft waves to her hair, in the hopes that it made her look more put together than she felt. It didn’t seem that just because she got hours of sleep made up for the fact that she would rather be curled up in the soft sheets of her bed at home than the stiff ones the hotel provided.

It doesn’t take long until she’s arrived in the lobby, where doctors all around her were dressed in firmly pressed suits and skirts. Tables advertising different events throughout the day were lined up and down the hallways, fellow surgeons and mentees passing out little pamphlets with information about their courses littering the pages.

Jo passes by a few stands displaying lectures on the OBGYN field, mentally making a list of the ones she would like to attend.

A quick glance to her watch tells her that the first item on her list was starting soon, and with that she dumps the now-empty coffee cup she had ordered a few minutes prior as a pick-me-up, and shuffles into the seat of the auditorium, the chairs around her filling up quicker than she expects.

It’s only a few minutes later Dr. Maria Cavanaugh steps out onto the stage, silencing the crowd after a round of applause. Jo leans back into her seat, feeling grateful that Meredith had pushed her to go to this conference.

If her whole weekend is spent listening to experts talk and teach about her new specialty, she thinks she’s going to enjoy it.

____

It’s hours and a multitude of lectures later when she exits another grand room, fellow surgeons beside her chatting about the new information they’d acquired. She feels a small smile grace her lips as she realizes that the excited squeals could only come from the med school students that had been invited from the nearby college.

She pulls out her phone, seeing a text from Link and Meredith, both along the lines of that they hoped she arrived safely and that she enjoyed her time away from home. She responds, pocketing her phone and making her way to the hotel bar, settling into one of the few empty seats and ordering a whiskey sour, thanking the bartender when it's placed in front of her not even a minute later.

She sips the drink slowly, feeling some leftover tenseness from sitting all day leave her body as the alcohol starts to flow through her veins. She was far from drunk, but even saying tipsy felt like too much of a stretch.

Pleasantly buzzed, she decides on, taking another sip of her drink, making a brief second of eye contact with a man on the other end of the bar. He raises her glass with a slight nod of his head, and she does the same. She’s tempted to continue; take use of the way the man’s making subtle glances to the seat next to him when her ears pick up another conversion from a few feet away, freezing her in place, glass nearly dropping to the floor.

“Do you want anything?”

“Just a water’s fine. I’m gonna go talk to Dr. Conwell about some of the research her and her team were talking about.”

She turns in her seat, against her better judgment. She watches as he kisses her cheek before leaning against the bar’s counter a few feet away.

She feels as if ice had just been dropped down her back —frozen in place, unable to move as she watches Alex drum his fingers on the dark wood, head nodding along to the soft tune playing through the speakers. He grabs his drinks from the bartender; two waters, one with ice and one without, about to walk towards the woman he was with earlier when he spots her.

“Jo?” he questions, blinking multiple times as if to see if it was really her, and not a trick of the light.

She wants to run when he makes his way over to her. She wants to run, and scream, and throw her drink in his face. But instead, she places a tight, thin smile on her lips and acts as if nothing was wrong.

“Alex, hi!” She turns to face him, her voice too high for her enthusiasm to be true, but if he knows it he doesn’t make any move to show it.

He runs a hand through his hair —it's longer than the last time she saw it, a bit of grey speckled in so lightly that it wouldn’t be noticeable to someone who wasn’t looking.”I uh, I didn't know you’d be here.”

She wants to roll her eyes, but refrains. “Well,” she spins her drink with the straw, watching as the ice cubes clink against the glass “The feeling’s mutual.”

“How are you?” He asks after a few beats of silence, and she wants nothing more than to yell at him that he couldn’t talk to her like this —like they were old friends who had lost contact after a while, and were due for a catch up. Because they weren’t old friends. They were so far from friends that someone could build a bridge with the amount of space they had between them.

“Fine,” she lies through her teeth, her heart nearly beating out of her chest in nervousness. She was worried that she was going to break down at any second, spew the words that she had said to Carly in anger at him if he looked at her any longer as if things were okay between them.

“You?” she questions, not interested in the answer, sipping her drink similarly to how she had the night of Bailey’s wedding, the unwelcome memory of the start of their relationship blossoming to the front of her mind.

He sips his water, “Good. I’ve been good.”

With his hand clasped around the glass she catches sight of the pristine, shiny gold ring that sits on his fourth finger, and she has to fight back the growing lump in her throat that threatens to escape.

“Congrats,” she says instead, eyebrows pinched together as she nods towards the ring, a tell that always told whether or not her words rang true.

He seems to have forgotten that, and takes her words as a compliment. He gives her a small smile, “Thanks.”

Jo wants to laugh, because this was so far from the Alex Karev she had known, the man in front of her unfamiliar and so, so different from the one she married years ago. The Alex she knew would’ve never ordered a water instead of a beer, or act as if everything was okay between them when it was so far from it.

He’d changed, and she couldn’t say that she liked it.

“How are the kids?” she asks, and she can tell that she’s surprised him. He looks taken aback for a moment, before smiling gently and reaching into his pocket for his phone. “They’re great,” he says, pulling up a photo of them, the twins smiling brightly into the camera.

“That was at their birthday party last week,” he explains, and she notices the large 7 balloons that are floating in the background.

“He looks like you,” she comments about the boy. He grins, and she wants nothing more than to slap him for not being able to see that she’s so obviously hurting, that her heart is breaking inside of her chest. That she selfishly wants him to say that he made a mistake, that he was in love with her, not Izzie. But her life wasn’t a trashy romance novel, and even if it was, Alex was never one to admit to his faults, his pride and ego too large to have it bruised in such a way.

She had always wondered what he had been up to after he had left. If he was okay. She’d imagined different futures for him, some including Izzie and the kids, some of them not. She’s even naively envisioned ones with her and the children they had always talked about having one day.

Somedays, when she was feeling worse for wear, she had wished that he was miserable —that he and Izzie weren’t together and as far as they went communication-wise was a phone call to see who had the kids that week; that he was as alone and bitter as she was.

But instead, here he was, Mr. Perfectly Fine. The man who had looked her in the eyes and told her he would never go away.

Here he was, Mr. Perfectly Fine. Married to the woman he had left her for, a shiny gold ring on his finger instead of neat, polished wood.

For the past two years she’d been picking up the pieces of herself that he had shattered and left behind, only just starting to put herself back together, and here he was, Mr. Perfectly Fine. While she was piecing together her shattered heart, he was picking up her, the woman he had left her for.

She had thought that he was different from the rest; different from everyone who had ever left her. But he wasn’t —the man she had thought was so different was so exactly the same as everyone else.

“I’m sorry, Jo.” he says, and she has the urge to laugh —laugh because he wasn’t sorry, she could tell. He was sorry that he left her and caused her pain, sure. But he wasn’t sorry that he had done it, that he had married Izzie again and lived with her and his kids on a farm in the middle of Kansas. He wasn’t sorry about that at all.

Mr. Insincere Apology so he didn’t look like the bad guy.

She acts as if she believes him, giving him another tight smile, and lies through her teeth once more. “It’s fine Alex. It’s in the past.”

Jo checks phone, making a face when she ‘realizes’ the time, eager to get out of there as soon as she could. “I need to go, early morning,” she fibs, and she internally rolls her eyes at how he believes her. While he seemed to have forgotten everything about her, she still remembers every detail about him.

“It was nice seeing you again Jo,” he’s playing with the sleeves of his jacket and his eyes meet hers, and for less than a second it’s almost enough to break her resolve.

Another tight smile graces her lips, and she begins to walk away when her body fights her mind and she finds herself leaning down, her lips against his ear.

“I’m glad it was worth it, Alex.”

Her voice is harsh and bitter, yet broken, and she doesn’t need to look at him to know that his face has fallen, and he’s realized that everything she’d told him that night was a lie. She turns and lets the tears fall silently, making her way back up to her room with a head full of thoughts about her ex-husband, about Alex Karev.

About Mr. Perfectly Fine.

____

@thejolexgroupchat #tsjolexweek21

[cno-inbminor]

a/n: drabble dump for our boy kuroo -- i love him loads and think about him endlessly. i also apologize beforehand for the awkward ending bc i’m terrible at ending things. hope you all enjoy! gonna go knock back a melatonin and sleep my wooziness away

w/c: ~2.4k; some angst, fluff, mentions of alcohol

you’re avoiding tetsurou, and he’s keen on figuring out why. college!au, friends to lovers.

“you’re not as slick as you think, y’know.”

instantly, a shiver creeps up your spine, electrifying you in quick, tiny bursts. those eight, nine words were more than enough to let you know who was standing behind you, peering over your shoulder in an effort to catch your gaze. his voice made your heart clench and lungs fight for oxygen – you begin to curse the high, intellectual level of tetsurou’s observational skills. you just wanted to make it another day without seeing his face outside of class, opting more for longer walks and just looking back to see the back of his stylishly mussed hair in the far distance. it frustrates you how much you’ve used the word ‘infuriating’ when it comes to him, but there’s no other better word you can think of without having to consult the thesaurus.

you have a few seconds to dart your eyes around, desperately searching for a way to escape. your productivity typically thrives within the library, but he’s always there, so with lots of pleading and promises of baked goods and decent coffee, you were able to borrow a close friend’s ID, a graduate student, and access the graduate resource room in a less traveled hallway. and in the expanse of that area, you’ve tucked yourself away into the back corner behind some shelves where almost no one visits. but it leaves you cornered and vulnerable – no matter which direction, in combination with his long legs, tetsurou would catch up to you in a heartbeat. you thought you had finally found a way to permanently escape his grasp, but apparently not.

much like you, he’s not supposed to be able to access this area. after all, you’re both senior undergrads so –

“how did you get in here?” you quietly hiss. you’re pretty sure you’d be booted out if you made any sound above 15 decibels, and you’re not about to let tetsurou ruin this haven for you.

there’s a rustle of clothing, a hand that rests on the back of your seat, and the hairs on the nape of your neck spike, before a delicate whisper informs, “you’re not the only one with grad student friends, love.”

if you weren’t so focused on keeping yourself rigid, body absolutely understanding of the effect that this man has on you, you definitely would’ve shivered from the proximity. but the gentleness in his tone sends you back to three weeks ago – you’re no longer under a fluorescent light tucked between cream-colored walls, but rather basked in a somewhat garish hue of crimson. your veins were tinged with alcohol, the substance leaving you feeling like you were on clouds, a silly smile breaking across your face uncontrollably. other bodies surrounded you but the only one you were focused on was the one in front of you, following your swaying movements to the beat of the music coming through someone’s speakers. even in the warmth of the house, tetsurou’s hands on your waist seared your skin, branding the feeling on you for eternity. his eyes twinkled with apparent affection, unbridled and screaming at you for you to understand the line he wanted to so desperately cross, that the alcohol pushed it behind his efforts to deny himself the one thing he’s been searching for in all these years.  

“i’m a little drunk, but fuck, you have no idea how bad i wanna kiss you,” he had murmured just loud enough into your ear, then ghosting his lips over the shell of it. everything around you dissolved into a blur as you could only focus on his breaths and the tightening of his grasp on you. his confession wasn’t completely unwarranted – not at all.

tetsurou and you had met in the quantitative analysis lab freshman year, having been assigned as partners for the semester just by how the ta’s drew the seating chart. he was a friendly, kind soul – had saved your ass multiple times from overshooting your titrations, prevented multiple beakers and graduated cylinders from falling over, always down to compare numbers to help ensure that neither of you were fucking up too hard.

coincidentally, the two of you were registered to the same ochem lab the next year and immediately gravitated towards each other, grateful to find some familiarity in all the anxiety. he witnessed your breakdown mid-lab, did his best to comfort you and salvage your sample so there was enough for recrystallization because you somehow got landed with a shitty, leaking separatory funnel, and stayed back with you when you had fallen behind in the cleanup process. from then on, it was a weekly habit to study together and work on your lab journals and reports together, not taking long to become close friends.

tetsurou did his best to keep his growing feelings at bay, knowing that you had explicitly mentioned swearing off relationships as you tried to figure out your future first. he wasn’t oblivious enough to think that you didn’t feel anything for him whatsoever – you were stubborn and tenacious at best. the house party at miya atsumu’s was simply a suggestion for the both of you to relax after a brutal midterm in your inorganic chemistry course, to let loose and treat yourself. he really hadn’t meant to say what he said, but just looked so good, so lovely and beautiful and enthralling, and you were looking at him like he hung the stars and moon in the sky – he knows he’s sent that same look to you multiple times when you weren’t looking, completely sober and unfazed.

he couldn’t stop himself from leaning close into you that night and you hadn’t stopped in – he knows he should’ve resisted, but feeling your soft lips against his was easily one of the top ten highlights of his college career, and his love for you only surged beyond his hold, overwhelming him to the point where all he could think about was nothing but holding your cheek in the palm of his hand so he could get a better angle and let himself indulge just this once.

that’s all it was – kissing and kissing in the middle of the makeshift dancefloor until there was no more oxygen left in either of your lungs. like a decent human being, he dropped you off at your apartment and bid you goodnight, hoping that you wouldn’t forget all the events that had transpired. and maybe, just maybe, he wished that you would let it happen again, that you could make him the exception in your plans.

evidently, you did remember it, because suddenly your responses to his texts were delayed and dry. you were picking up extra shifts, showing up to class at the very last minute, and leaving as soon as the professor dismissed you, allowing practically no room for him to make small talk. and while he would usually pass you in the halls of the chem building at some point, you were always too far from him and scurrying away in a different direction. tetsurou did his best to give you your space, but the less he saw of you, the more nervous and frustrated he grew. there was a wrench thrown into his daily routine, and your presence had always managed to bring some peace to him. so when he realized that you had truly abandoned your usual study spot in the library a week and a half later, he set himself on a mission to find out exactly where you were hiding.

it honestly had been sheer luck that he saw your figure ducking around into a hallway he’s never bothered to go down, and by the time he caught up, the door to the graduate resource room had just closed on your and there was no way he could get in without some help. luckily, his mentor who had stayed at the university for their phd was pretty nonchalant about letting him borrow it for a few days, preferring to study at home or in a coffee shop off-campus themselves.

he knew that since you were hiding, you were probably going to be in the most inconspicuous spot possible. so while there was some time dedicated to navigating the new maze of an area, he immediately felt a sense of relief when he saw your back hunched over your notes, hair tied up into a messy bun, and your laptop open with a spotify playlist.

after you’re done reminiscing, you begin to pack your stuff up, opting to just nor respond to tetsurou and ignoring the pleasant sensation that his term of endearment for you brought. he pulls back and stands straight to give you some room, but the tapping of his foot against the tile floor speaks to his blooming agitation at your silence. you’re still wordless as you weave between the shelves to the exit, knowing that the man plaguing your dreams is not far behind. the game of ‘follow the leader’ (or is it ‘cat and mouse’?) continues until you both have exited the main door, and right before you can walk down the granite steps, tetsurou seizes the opportunity to run ahead of you and stand in your way.

“tetsu, please,” you sigh, avoiding his piercing stare by fiddling with the sleeves of your jacket. “is there something you need?”

“you can’t play coy with me,” he chastises, bending down slightly in hopes that you’ll finally look at him. “you know why i’m here.”

it’s a bad habit of yours to nibble on the inside of your lips when you’re searching for the right things to say. tetsurou only picked up on it just last year – the action itself is very subtle to the outside viewer, and he hadn’t been paying close enough attention back then. “don’t bullshit me right now.”

“do we have to do this now?” you whine a bit.

“yes, or else i’m never gonna get you to talk to me. come on, you don’t do this, love.”

“what do you mean?”

“you’re running away. that’s pretty cowardly, don’t you think? you’ve had 3 weeks—”

you start to walk forward and around his tall, lanky figure. “i’m not humoring you with this—”

“with what—”

“—you’re doing that provoking thing, you’re trying to get me to think that i’m wrong in avoiding you—”

“so you have been avoiding me—”

“i said not now!” you protest in a raised voice, path once again blocked. tears of frustration are beginning to build in the corners of your eyes, and you’re cursing yourself for feeling so weak in this moment. part of you wants nothing more than to run into his arms.

it’s dead quiet for a few seconds – the ambient noise of the wind and the occasional passing car this late at night fail to make themselves known over the pounding of blood in your ears. only tetsurou’s first knuckle underneath your chin to raise you up grounds you, and you can no longer avoid his gaze. small crests of guilt wash over you as you recognize the uncharacteristic brokenness in his eyes – the last three weeks must’ve been much harder on him than you thought.

“just hear me out for a few minutes, okay? you can make your decision then.”

he takes your nod as a signal to continue, but also softening a bit at how nervous you look.

“i’m in love with you,” he softly confesses, a smile of defeat gracing his complexion. “and i have been for a while. i don’t think i’m bullshitting when i say i think you feel something for me, too, but i knew it wasn’t in your plans. didn’t wanna push or force you into making a decision when you weren’t ready. so i held back – but i couldn’t help it at the party, and…i’m sorry, love. i really am.”

tetsurou doesn’t miss the flash of hurt that crosses your eyes. “so does that mean you regret it?” you bite out, nails clenching and digging into the fabric of your jacket sleeves. he shakes his head.

“i don’t regret kissing you at all – it’s all i’ve wanted to do for the last two and a half years. but i’m just sorry that i did it without your explicit, sober permission. i went against your wishes in a time of vulnerability, and that’s pretty shitty of me – i’m not gonna excuse myself either just because i was a little drunk, so i hope you’re able to forgive me.”

he watches you sniffle and fight the grin that’s trying to creep across your face. “someone had their shot of respect women juice this morning, didn’t they?” you chokingly tease.

“five shots directly injected into my veins, every morning,” he jokes back, thumb sweeping over to catch your falling tears. “but i mean it though – i’m really sorry.”

“you’re forgiven, and i appreciate that more than you know. but if i’m being honest…it was something i’ve wanted to do for a while, too. i was just really scared because it was so unexpected and i wasn’t sure if i was ready for our relationship to change, or like if i would be emotionally available enough for you, y’know?” you blubber, hand reaching up to rest against his on your cheek.

“hey—”

“i really want this to work out.” tetsurou can hear your voice shake, and he’s sure you’re almost trembling. “you’re one of my best friends – i can’t lose you, tetsu. and what about grad school? what if we end up too far away from each other and video calls aren’t enough? what if you get tired of me or—”

“i know you hate it when i interrupt, but honestly (y/n), you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried. i’m gonna do everything i can to make this work, too, mmk?”

“okay,” you whisper. “okay.”

his thumb gently sweeps back and forth against your cheek for a little bit before speaking up again. “not to ruin the moment, but do i have permission to kiss you now?” his eyes shine despite the midnight sky, and you can’t help the small chuckle that leaves your chest.

tetsurou swears up and down that your kiss in response is much, much sweeter than the one at the party, and he can’t wait to see what the future holds for you two.

[honey-dewey]

Little Leather Boots

Pairing: Shane ‘Dio’ Morrissey/Reader

Words: 4,442

Warnings: Reader is pregnant and is very worried about it, mentions of abortion but it doesn’t happen, lots of tears, a very worried and loving Dio, mention of c-section, I think that’s it folks. 

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell

After one too many wild nights with your goth boyfriend, you somehow wind up pregnant, which you didn’t even think was possible considering that you and Dio always used protection. But here you are, pregnant and terrified that Dio ‘I hate kids’ Morrissey will be pissed. No matter what happens, it’s going to be a very long nine months. 

You woke up to an empty bed, as was the unfortunate usual. Your body ached in all the right places as you slid into Dio’s shirt from last night and your own pyjama bottoms. The apartment was cold, too cold as you headed to the bathroom, yawning widely. 

It was only when you opened the bathroom door that the nausea hit you like a truck. You immediately felt your knees go weak, gagging and dry heaving over the sink. When you resurfaced, you rinsed your mouth out and met your own teary eyes in the mirror. Wiping away the evidence, you picked up your phone, trailing slowly to the kitchen. Grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, you called into work, taking the day off. 

The next thing you did was text Dio. He was, understandably, worried. You told him you felt better, and that it was probably just a stomach bug or something. Nothing to worry about, nothing to come home early for. 

Truthfully, you were feeling better. Too better. Settling on the couch, you googled problems where nausea was a symptom. Not much came up that was possible. A stomach bug, but nausea was your only symptom. Same went for the flu and all the other illnesses. And then, right at the end of the list, was pregnancy. 

You scoffed it off, tossing your phone down. As much as Dio complained in the first few weeks, he always used a condom. Always. You’d asked him once if he ever wanted kids, and his response had been a steady fuck no. 

But then you began to think about it harder. You’d always had irregular and unpredictable periods, so the fact that you hadn’t had one in a while wasn’t super suspicious, and your weight had fluctuated, but that was because Dio insisted on a cherry pie last week. No, you couldn’t be pregnant. 

“But what if,” you whispered out loud, looking at the wall and sinking into thought. “It would explain a lot.” 

Deciding to prove to yourself that you were absolutely not pregnant, you stood and put on a decent pair of pants, scooping up your wallet and heading to the CVS. 

The closer the drug store got, the more nervous you became. What if you were pregnant? Would you get rid of the baby? Would Dio dump you if you didn’t want to? Who would take care of you and your baby? 

Shaking your head, you walked into the CVS and took a breath. This would be very easy because you were definitely not pregnant. 

You grabbed a three pack of tests and stood in the self checkout line, hyperaware of the heavily pregnant woman behind you. As you rang up your purchase and dug around in your wallet, you heard her sigh. “I remember when I bought mine.” 

“Pardon?” 

“Sorry!” The woman said sweetly, smiling at you. “I was just remembering when I bought my test for my baby. It’s a magical day.” 

You tried to smile back. “Magical.” 

The woman nodded. “Does your husband know?” 

“I’m not married,” you breathed, staring down at the CVS bag with watering eyes. “He hasn’t, I don’t know if he’ll,” 

“Oh sweetie,” the woman said, coming closer and putting an arm around you. “I'm so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

You shook your head, wiping away tears. “It’s not your fault,” you said softly. “You didn’t know.” 

The woman sighed, rubbing your arm. “Darling, go home, drink some water, and take the test. I promise, no harm can come from just knowing.” 

Nodding, you took your purchase and waved to the woman. She waved back as you began your short walk to your apartment. 

Taking her advice, you drank water, read over the instructions in the pregnancy test box, and immediately moved everything into the bathroom. 

As soon as you shut the door, you called one of Dio’s friends. Raven was a close confidant of yours and could probably be trusted with this secret. 

“Yo,” Raven said as she picked up. 

“Raven I think I might be pregnant.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” Raven asked. “Did you take a test yet, are you sure?” 

You sat in the bathtub, shaking your head. “Not yet,” you mumbled. “I bought a few.” 

Raven made a noise of sympathy. “Dolly, do you want me over there?” 

“Yes please,” you said, hating how weak you sounded. 

“Be there in five.” 

The apartment was deafeningly silent for five minutes before Raven forewent knocking and just opened your front door. “Dolly, where are you?” 

“Bathroom!” 

Raven’s concerned face appeared in your bathroom door. She took in the likely pitiful sight of you sitting in the bathtub and immediately joined you. “Hon, you’re a hot fucking mess in here.” 

“I know,” you said, head in your hands. “The tests are on the counter. I haven’t taken them yet.” 

“You should,” Raven said, standing and passing you one of the tests. “Worst case scenario, you are knocked up and Dio gets mad, so I kick his ass and take you to my place.” 

You snorted and stood. “Thanks Rav,” you said softly, taking the test. “Now get out of the bathroom.” 

Two agonizing minutes later, you’d washed your hands and taken the tests, not necessarily in that order. Raven knocked, and you opened the door for her. 

“Can I be the Godmother?” She asked, leading you out of the bathroom and away from the tests that need a few minutes. 

“What?” 

“If you are pregnant,” she explained. “Can I be the Godmother?” 

You sighed. “Raven, I’m not even sure I’m going to keep the baby yet if I’m pregnant.” 

Raven dramatically rolled her eyes. “Killjoy,” she groaned, falling into your couch. “Okay, better question. How’re you gonna tell Dio?” 

It was something you hadn’t considered yet. “Uh.” You fidgeted with a pillow, trying to think. “I don’t know. Eventually, I guess he’ll find out when I start looking like I swallowed a planet, but, well, I dunno.” 

A timer dinged in the background, and Raven shot to her feet. “Do you wanna look first or should I?” 

“You do it,” you said, suddenly feeling like your mouth was full of cotton. You watched Raven open the bathroom door, pick up the test, and stare down at it. 

“Hey Doll,” she said, leaning her hip against the bathroom door frame and holding up the test. “Positive. All three of them.” 

Your breath stopped. “Really?” A horrible euphoria spread through your body as you took the test from Raven. Sure enough, it said positive. “Oh my god.” 

Raven left shortly after that, apologizing that she couldn’t stay longer. 

“You call me if Dio flips his shit,” she said, hugging you close. “If he won’t take care of it, I promise I’ll be the best damn auntie in New York.” 

You smiled, waving to her as she went. Sitting on the couch, finally alone, you picked up your phone and dialed a familiar number. 

“Baby?” 

“Hey Mama,” you said, twisting a necklace Dio had gotten you last year. “I have something important to tell you.” 

Your mother gasped. “Are you engaged? Did he finally ask?”

You sighed, smiling to yourself. Despite her original hang ups with your goth boyfriend, she’d come to love Dio like he was one of her own kids, and had been pestering since your four year anniversary to get married. “No Mama, he hasn’t proposed. But I, well, I might need to come spend some time with you. For a while.” 

“Oh darling, what happened?” 

You took a breath, trying to force the words out of your mouth. “I’m pregnant.” 

There was silence on the other end. “Mama?” 

“Baby,” your mother said, voice thick with tears. “Baby are you happy?” 

You began to cry too. “Yes Mama, I think I am.”

Your mother let out a breath. “That’s all I care about. If you’re happy, I’m happy. Oh your father is going to be thrilled! Does Dio know?” 

“Not yet,” you said, nerves returning. “I don’t know when or how I’m gonna tell him, but I’m just terrified he’ll be mad.” 

“Mad that you’re pregnant with his baby?” 

“Mama, he hates kids,” you reminded. “That’s why I might have to come stay with you. Raven offered to help me, but if things go south, I want you.” 

Your mother was quiet for a second. “Of course. Should I tell your father?” 

You smiled. “Please do. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” 

“You call me as soon as you tell him, no matter what. I want to congratulate or yell at him.” 

Laughing, you said goodbye to your mother and hung up, leaving you alone to figure out how you’d break the news to Dio. 

He came home hours later, finding you on the couch watching bad reality TV. “That bad, hm?” 

You groaned. “You have no idea.” You’d cleaned the bathroom and hid the evidence, stashing one pregnancy test in your bedside table and throwing the other two out. 

Dio chuckled, falling onto the couch and kissing you. “How’re you feeling?” 

“Better,” you lied. “Raven came around and kept me company for a bit, and then my mom called because apparently we hadn’t talked in a while.” 

“Did she ask if we were engaged?” 

“What do you think?” You laughed, leaning against Dio’s chest. “Oh! Guess what!” 

“Hm?” 

You pulled out your phone, scrolling through Instagram until you found a specific photo. “My old high school best friend is pregnant!” 

Dio squinted at the photo, and you smiled, handing him his glasses from the coffee table. He was technically supposed to wear them all the time, but he said they ruined his vibe so he never actually wore them. 

“Which one is this?” He asked, adjusting his glasses and looking at you. 

“Bridgit, the cute blonde who accidentally started a fire in the gym.” 

Dio nodded. “She’s huge.” 

You snorted, taking your phone back. “She’s eight months pregnant, Dio. Of course she’s huge. I dunno how I’d handle being that pregnant.” 

“Yeah well,” Dio said, standing. “You’ll never have to.” 

That sent a bolt of fear through you. Resting a hand on your stomach, against the nearly invisible baby you were protecting, you spoke with a certain caution. “You really don’t want kids, do you?” 

“We’ve had this talk,” Dio reminded, sitting back down with a drink in hand. “No, I don’t. I’d be a shit father.” 

“Aw, I think you’d be great at it,” you said, trying to ease your nerves. “Dio Morrissey, holding a tiny little baby, I can see it now.” 

Dio chuckled, nudging you. “Where’s all this coming from? We haven’t talked babies in a year.” 

You shrugged. “I’m not exactly getting younger,” you mumbled. “And when Mama called, she asked me when I was planning on having kids.” 

“Oh,” Dio breathed, putting an arm around you. “What’d you say?” 

“I-“ you faltered, meeting Dio’s deep brown eyes. You hoped, very fleetingly, that your baby would have his eyes. “I told her,” you said slowly, realizing it was now or never. “I told her I was already pregnant, Dio.” 

It was like time stopped. Dio’s eyes went wide, his entire body stilling. “You’re kidding,” he said, so softly you almost didn’t hear. “I don’t, I mean, baby why are you crying?”

You wiped your eyes, chest heaving. “I love you so much, and I don’t want to leave, and I don’t want to get rid of the baby, and I’m scared Dio!” You stumbled over your words, still sobbing. 

Dio shook his head, pulling you close. “I would never make you leave,” he promised. “Not over this.” 

You went still, relaxing in the familiar arms. “You- you’re not mad?” 

“Mad?” Dio pulled away, cradling your face in his hands. “No! I could never be mad at you! It wasn’t your fault and you had no control over any of this.”

Then, you asked the all important question. “Are we going to keep it?” 

Dio took your hands, squeezing them tight. “Do you want to keep it? I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to, okay? Think about yourself, not me. What do you want?” 

You thought about it, finally coming to a conclusion after a minute. “I want to keep it.” 

“Okay then,” Dio said. “I guess we’re having a baby.” 

The rest of the night was a whirlwind. You called your mother, and she and your father congratulated you and made you promise to come visit soon. Raven was also called, swearing violently at Dio until you reassured her that he was okay with the scenario. 

After dinner, you made tea for yourself, standing in the kitchen in Dio’s pyjamas. He came up behind you, spanning his hands across your belly. “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” you said, leaning into his touch. “Your hands are freezing.” 

You two spent the better part of the night like that. You resting and Dio always with a hand on your belly, thumb stroking over the dip of your waist or the divot of your hip bone. 

“You sir,” you said when you finally got into bed and Dio put a protective hand over your waist. “Are obsessed.” 

“I can’t help it,” Dio purred softly, kissing your forehead. “My darling is going to be a mother, and I’m going to be a father. I’m not obsessed. I’m protecting.” 

You smiled. “Same thing.” 

The next month was surprisingly hard. You weren’t really showing, but Dio rubbed your belly anyway. He was surprisingly physically affectionate, and did something that shocked you to your core. 

He quit smoking. 

For almost thirty days, you and him struggled in your own ways, always there to hold the other up as Dio’s hands shook and you dry heaved literally every morning. 

Finally, you had a doctor’s appointment. You’d see your baby for the first time and find out how far you were. As you wiggled into a shirt, you turned in the mirror and gasped. “Dio!” 

Dio came rushing into the bathroom. “What’s wrong?” 

You pressed a hand over your belly. “Look.” 

Coming up behind you, Dio grinned when he saw what you were seeing. A baby bump. An unmistakable baby bump. 

“She’s real,” Dio breathed, and you grinned. 

“What makes you think I’m having a girl?” 

Dio smiled, kissing the back of your neck. “I want a girl.” 

You laughed. “Dio, the sex of our baby is not dependent on your desires.”

“But it should be,” Dio said. “Because I want a girl.” 

“Why?” You asked, tugging on a sweater and covering the bump. 

Dio shrugged. “I had to look after four brothers growing up,” he explained. “I kinda want to take care of a baby girl now.” 

You smiled. “You’re a sap.” 

“I’m your sap,” he corrected, stepping into his boots and zipping them up. “C’mon, we don’t wanna be late.” 

The trip to the doctor was odd. Your doctor was a lovely older man who, while he was a bit blunt, was soft spoken and genuinely seemed to care. 

“And there’s your baby,” he said, turning the screen so you could see. He adjusted the transducer on your belly and you took a big breath, finally seeing your baby. 

“She’s beautiful,” Dio murmured, squeezing your hands. 

“They.” 

“She.” 

“Dio!” You said playfully. “We don’t know the sex yet!” 

The doctor chuckled, moving the transducer a bit. “Looks like everything is developing as expected. You’re about twelve weeks, or three months along, although it’s hard to tell because you’re not sure of the date of conception. But, if you’re at three months now, then your due date should be mid-April. However, if the baby is a week or two early or late, we shouldn’t worry.” 

“And when can we learn the sex?” Dio asked, still holding your hands. 

“We can typically start to see it at about 18 weeks, but we’ll take a look at 22 just to be sure we can see it,” the doctor said, putting the transducer down and wiping your belly off. “We can schedule your next appointment for the sex of the baby now, if you want.”

You and Dio both nodded. “Thank you so much doctor,” you said as you tugged your shirt back over your stomach. 

In the next ten weeks, you and Dio began to get ready for a baby. Your old spare room in the apartment that no longer smelled like cigarettes was cleared out and turned into a beautiful nursery. Despite your insistence that it couldn’t be painted black, Dio still managed to put his touch in it. By the time you were getting ready for your second appointment, the nursery was basically done. 

“I think we did good,” you decided, looking at the nursery as you went to grab Dio so you wouldn’t be late. The walls were a smooth cream color, with the same hardwood as the rest of the apartment covered in a soft black rug. The furniture was all black, with white detailing on the crib’s blankets. Dio had found a gorgeous Edgar Allen Poe blanket that he’d insisted upon, and that was how the classic gothic literature theme came to be. After the blanket came a mobile that had ravens, and then a few picture frames with Dio’s favorite Poe passages. 

“Me too,” Dio said, standing from where he’d been attempting to read a book and coming over to kiss you. “Ready?” 

You nodded. “Absolutely. Mama’s still mad we aren’t having a gender reveal party.” 

“Gender is a construct,” Dio reminded you with a soft smile. “As long as our bean is healthy, I will be happy.” 

Grinning, you made a face as the baby kicked you. “Ow! Tiny motherfucker’s already got your punches,” you grumbled, rubbing a hand over your belly. 

Dio chuckled. “Can’t inherit an ability to throw a punch.” 

“Yeah, well,” you said lowly. “If this kid keeps this up, I won’t have much by way of internal organs when we’re done here.” 

Your second appointment was less stressful than the first. You were out of the danger zone with the risk of miscarriage, and today was all about being happy. 

“Alright,” the doctor said, pressing the transducer to your belly and beginning to move it around. “22-ish weeks, how’re we feeling?” 

“I’m getting six hours of sleep a night and eating almost double what I was last year,” you said, staring up at the ceiling. “I feel terrible.” 

The doctor smiled. “And you, Mr. Morrissey?” 

Dio shrugged. “I’ve gotten used to living with the world’s crankiest pregnant person.” 

“Bitch,” you said under your breath, smiling while you did it. 

“Mhm,” Dio kissed your hand, the warmth of his face a weird contrast to the cold of his lip piercing. “Love you too.” 

The doctor turned the screen towards you. “Alright. Are we ready?” 

You and Dio both nodded. 

“So, there’s the head,” the doctor said, pointing to the screen. “Hands, feet, everything is developing normally, and it looks like you’re having a little girl. Congratulations.” 

You and Dio walked out of that appointment and immediately stopped for ice cream, at your request. You eagerly texted everyone, giving them the news, and Dio handed you a cup of bright pink ice cream. “Congratulations.” 

“Thank you,” you said, taking a bite of the ice cream and sitting on a bench, rubbing your belly. “So, you must be over the moon. You’re getting your little girl.” 

Dio grinned, leaning against your shoulder. “Baby, I have never been happier.” 

Three weeks later, sometime during month 6, you started to feel the euphoria die. You were in pain, and lots of it. Every day, the baby seemed to find new ways to make you suffer. Shifting around and sitting practically on your bladder at one in the morning, giving you hellish cravings that made Dio gag more than once, and for a whole week you had nausea so powerful that you could barely eat. No matter how many times Dio kissed over the now obvious swell of your belly, you felt a creeping horror at the stretch marks you were now sporting. 

“Oh my god!” You hissed, crawling out of bed and swearing violently as you began to make slow laps around the apartment, trying to ease your pain. “Fuck!” 

As you trailed from the kitchen to the bedroom, you felt something warm trickle down your leg. Looking down, a gripping terror took your heart as you realized exactly what had just happened. Three months early, your water had broke. You felt your breath quicken as you did the only rational thing. You screamed for Dio. 

“Shane!” You yelled, the panic forcing his given name out of your mouth. “Fuck! Shane!” 

Dio came skidding out of the bedroom in all his half asleep glory, eyes wide. “What’s wrong?” He said, voice urgent. “Babe? Talk to me!” 

“Water,” you gasped, reaching out to him. “Shit. Water just broke.” 

“What?” Now Dio’s panic met yours, but he was significantly better at keeping a level head. “Okay, not freaking out. We are not freaking out. Look at me. That’s it, there we go.” As he talked, he led you from the puddle of amniotic fluids on the kitchen floor to the bedroom, folding up a towel and guiding you to sit. “I’ll call the doctor, okay? You just relax.” 

Dio scooped his phone up, anxiously dialing the number for the office. 

“Hello? Yes, my partner’s water just broke. Yes, they’re about twenty five week. Of course. Yes. Definitely. Okay, thank you.” 

He hung up, sitting next to you and putting a careful hand on your back. “Babe. C’mon, we’ve got to get to the hospital.” 

You nodded, standing and gripping Dio’s hand as he led you to the car, laying the towel down in the passenger seat and helping you sit. 

“Baby, listen to me,” Dio said softly, taking your hand as soon as he was in the car. “The doctor said you’re probably going to be okay, and so is the baby. 25 weeks is super early, but there’s a high chance you’ll both be okay.” 

“Okay,” you said, placing your hands over your belly. “It seems she’s also inherited your dramatic flair.” 

Dio chuckled. “Close your eyes. We’ll be there before you know it.” 

Despite the late hour, the hospital was alive with activity. A kind nurse led you to the delivery wing, gave you a hospital gown, and promised to get the doctor. 

He was in the room within minutes, checking your dilation and sighing. “So,” he said, standing. “We’ve got options here. Option one, a natural birth. Technically possible, but risky. Option two, c-section. Less risky, but it leaves a scar and you’d need more recovery time.”

It wasn’t a hard choice for you. “Whatever’s safest for the baby.” 

The doctor nodded. “Okay. C-section it is. Mr. Morrissey, if I could ask you to leave the room.”

“What?” 

“With the baby being this early, we don’t want anything to complicate the procedure,” the doctor explained. “Please, I promise we’ll get you if anything major happens.” 

“Wait!” You shouted, gripping Dio’s hand. “He can’t stay?” 

“I’m sorry,” the doctor said. “But no.” 

Dio’s hands were shaking as you kissed them. “Darling, I’ll be fine,” you promised. “Dio, hon, look at me. Just go wait outside. I’ll yell if I need anything.” 

Dio turned to the doctor after kissing you and rasping out a soft farewell. “You come get me if anything goes wrong,” he said softly, so you wouldn’t hear. “And if you have to choose between one or the other,” he glanced at you, knowing you’d actively disagree with what he was about to say. “You save my partner, okay?” 

The doctor nodded. “Of course,” he said. “You can wait right there. This won’t take long, I promise.” 

Apparently, the doctor was a big fat liar. Almost an hour later, Dio was leaning against your mother’s shoulder, half asleep. It had taken so long that they’d had time to show up, which wasn’t helping Dio’s building anxiety. 

Finally, finally, a nurse opened the door. “Morrissey?” 

Dio jumped to his feet, despite almost falling asleep mere minutes before. “Yes?” 

“The procedure was a success,” the nurse explained. “Both your partner and your daughter are okay. Would you like to see?” 

Dio’s heart pounded as he entered the room. You looked completely exhausted, pale and sweaty but alive. You smiled upon seeing him, weakly gripping his hand. “Told you,” you mumbled. 

He grinned, but his attention was soon grabbed by the tiny baby in the room. She was connected to more wires and tubes than you were, but Dio didn’t care. He put a hand against the glass of the chamber she was in, tears starting to flow. “She’s perfect.” 

“She is,” you agreed, looking at your baby. “Is my mama here?” 

Dio nodded, still entranced by the baby. “Welcome to the world,” he said softly. “Athena Morrissey.” 

You and Athena were in the hospital for another month, Dio visiting daily to see you and hold you upright as you saw your little girl. She kept getting stronger, defying every odd and surprising you whenever she could.

It was hard, the first few weeks home. Athena would be in the NICU for a bit longer, until she was healthier, but Dio told you that this was just a chance to truly prepare for the little bundle of joy. 

The day you took her home was a tear jerker. Dio insisted on carrying her through the door, the tiny little thing swaddled in his arms as he gave the dead asleep Athena an apartment tour. 

That night, you smiled, watching Dio away back and forth with Athena in his arms. He’d abandoned his jacket for the comfort of something softer, Athena’s white onesie a contrast against his black shirt. 

“Y’know how, almost ten months ago, I joked that I could totally see you holding a baby,” you said softly, standing and moving to Dio’s side. 

“Yeah?” 

You smiled, stroking a finger down Athena’s cheek. “You look so natural like this,” you said. “You’re gonna be an amazing father.” 

“And you will be an amazing mother,” Dio said, kissing you. “Can you grab something out of my pocket?” 

Nodding, you reached into Dio’s pocket and stopped when your fingers brushed something small and metal. “Dio.” 

“Darling.” 

You pulled a beautiful ring out of his pocket, your emotions getting the better of you. “Are you proposing?” 

Dio grinned. “Figured it was time. Is that a yes?” 

You nodded. “Yes. Dio Morrissey, I cannot wait to marry you.”

[fighterkimburgess]

Fearless Chapter 5 - White Horse

Summary: Chapter 5/19 Kim's (a lot) broken. She makes a decision. Series Masterlist here.

Words: 3.2k (this is probably gonna be the longest chapter)

Warnings: Angst, more angst, alcohol, mental health discussion, discussion of mental health diagnoses. I'm not a trained mental health professional, I've just been around the block with it Quite A Few times. Posting this early because tbh it's the chapter I'm both most nervous and excited about.

Want to join my taglist?

--

It took ten minutes for Adam to text her, and the texts just kept on coming. Kim didn’t want him to know she’d actually read them, so she pulled them down in her notifications centre to see what he sent.

12.22: Kim tell me you got home ok.

12.24: Let me know you’re ok please?

12.28: She was calling to dump me, if you’re wondering.

12.29: Apparently I’m too emotionally closed off.

12.31: Kim I’m so worried you didn’t get home safe please just let me know that much.

12.33: I’ll call Kevin and get him to call you.

12.34: Or Hailey. And then Jay will be mad at both of us.

12.35: Please Kim. Please tell me you’re ok. Please.

She unlocked her phone, pulling up the text thread. It took her several tries to write the text, but his bubbles didn’t appear while she was typing. She deleted and rewrote, trying to sound detached.

12.39: I’m home safe. See you in work on Monday.

Before she could see a reply she relocked her phone, muting it so it wouldn’t even vibrate for her. She did this over and over again, fell for Adam without thinking about the implications of it. She nearly had his baby. She was so in love with him it hurt, but it was never worth it. He’d been dating someone and she happened to call him at nearly midnight to dump him? Kim didn’t believe it. It was too coincidental.

She paced through her apartment, anger and worry filling her. His stupid angel face and stupid kissable lips. She’d held on for so long, let the days and weeks and years drag on. It’d been nearly a decade since her crush on him began. Nine entire years since she’d kissed him for the first time. She was so stupid, she should have known.

This wasn’t a stupid fairytale, he wasn’t going to appear at her doorstep again. She wasn’t the one who got swept off her feet. Kim Burgess didn’t get to be happy. She was the one who got shot, the one who got beaten, the one who couldn’t do her damn job and not go into an active crime scene. How could he even still want to be with her when she’d killed their baby? It was nearly three years ago and she still blamed herself for that. She always would.

She used to think that she and Adam would be together forever. She’d have fairytales of a big wedding, a poofy dress. She’d nearly put a deposit down on one before they’d split up the first time. She felt like a fairytale princess in it, but they were never ready to be married then. At least she knew that now.

The only thing she could think of was how they kept coming together and falling apart. She was so, so naïve when they’d begun dating. She’d had relationships, she’d had flings. But she’d never had anything like Adam, where despite having the same rank in work she was patrol and he wasn’t. She always felt like she had to prove herself to him, that she was worthy of his love. Of course Adam Ruzek, Bob’s son would be in love with her because she was such a great person.

And she left him for Roman. Sean who’d tried to convince her to leave Chicago, leave her friends, and follow him after a couple of months. She’d let his stupid hatred of work couples to corrupt her thoughts about what their relationship could be, and it had ruined her and Adam. And that was her fault. She still dreamt about what would happen between her and Adam if they had gotten married then. Would she be a mother? Would the miscarriage just have been a nightmare? Would her baby have her eyes or his? Stupid happy endings she would never have.

She managed to get some sleep, tossing and turning for most of the night with maybe three broken hours. She had a day without Makayla, so she could at least stay in bed to nurse her broken heart. She turned her phone over, skipping through the emails to check her texts. Two each from Kevin and Hailey, asking what had happened and why was Adam asking them about her. She sent off a quick one to each of them saying everything was fine, before opening the twelve texts from Adam.

1.05: I’m sorry.

1.07: For everything, I mean.

1.09: I should have told you about Emma. We were never exclusive, we had two dates and I never slept with her. I promise.

1.11: I just need us to be ok, Kim.

1.30: I guess you went to bed. I hope you sleep ok.

1.31: Text me in the morning? We can get breakfast.

1.45: Or if you wake up during the night. I’ll leave my volume on.

1.50: You can just turn up at my door.

1.53: I think my beer went to my head with that one.

2.21: I still have feelings for you. I don’t think I’ll ever stop having them.

3.01: I’m drunk and I miss you. And Kayla. You’re the best two people in my life.

3.27: I’m sorry for blowing up your phone. Sleep well.

Kim stared at the messages, tearing up slightly at the last one. Even when they weren’t ok, he was still sweet to her. Asking for forgiveness when she’d been the one to screw it up? She’d jumped to a conclusion. It wasn’t his place to ask her for forgiveness, but he still did. She stared at her phone for a minute before replying.

8.12: You’ve nothing to apologise for. I’m sorry. Gonna spend the weekend cleaning, see you in work.

She got the apartment clean quicker than expected, and then sat watching tv. Everything she did was sabotaging herself, sabotaging Adam. She needed help. Therapy was never something any cop would agree with, but she needed it. Even if she and Adam weren’t together, she needed to be ok for her daughter, for her team. And right now she wasn’t ok.

It took Kim another half hour to get the courage up to Google “Chicago therapy”. The number of results were overwhelming, but she found a site where she could filter therapists. She knew she wanted a female therapist who took city insurance which narrowed the field dramatically. She rejected two out of hand - one too close to the precinct, one who only dealt with eating disorders - and she was left with five. Dr. Debra Maguire was near her apartment, and dealt with grief and relationship issues. Kim took a deep breath and rang the phone number on the listing.

She expected to get a voicemail, but instead it was picked up by a human. “Dr. Debra Maguire, therapist and grief counsellor. How can I help you today?”

Kim licked her lips before speaking. “I wanted to make an appointment for myself. I think I need to talk to someone.”

She heard the slight intake of breath on the other end of the phone, and wanted to end the call but held firm. “We can fit you in. Now a couple of questions just to check if we need to get you someone now, are you a danger to yourself or others right now, do you think?” Kim shook her head at the question.

“No, I’m not. I’m not a danger. A coworker of mine found therapy really helpful, and I think it’ll help me too.”

She gave her information over the phone, and was booked in for an appointment on Wednesday at four. She’d need to leave work early for it, but once she said it was medical it should be fine.

The rest of the weekend was spent waiting for Makayla to arrive, and then hearing her ten year old’s chatter about her trip. They’d gone to some cabins just north of Chicago for the final scouting trip of the year, and the girl couldn’t stop talking about making s’mores and pitching a tent, even though they didn’t sleep in it.

When Monday morning dawned, she got Makayla to school early, grinning as she ran into the elementary school doors. Kim managed to be second into the bullpen after her Sergeant, and once she put her bag on her chair she knocked on his door.

“Come in?” Voight called, watching Kim as she closed the office door behind her. “What’s going on, Burgess?”

Kim sat, taking a deep breath. “I’m gonna need to leave early on Wednesdays, Sarge. I don’t know how long it’ll be for, but it’s really important. I’ll make up my hours the rest of the week though.”

“Hey, don’t panic. You’re usually clocking at least a day of OT a week, a couple of hours one day isn’t gonna make much of a difference. You wanna talk about it?” If it had been when she joined Intelligence she would have said no and left the office, but this time she stayed in her chair.

“I need to talk to someone about everything that’s happened. I’m not ok with it, and I think I need to get it out before it affects my job or my daughter.”

“Good.” Her eyes flashed up at Voight’s single word. “Everyone in this unit has their demons, and you’ve had a harder couple of years than most people. Take it from someone who’s lost a child, it doesn’t go away overnight. You take as many Wednesdays as you need.” He nodded, and Kim took it as her dismissal, going out to start on paperwork before they caught a case.

The days passed and on Wednesday morning she could barely eat, her stomach already in knots. Once three thirty hit she packed up, waving goodbye as she left. There were whispers behind her as she went down the stairs to buzz out, but Voight’s “Burgess’s business is her own, where are we?” shut them all down.

Maguire’s waiting room was pale blue, with squishy armchairs. Kim had left her service weapon in the car, and she felt almost naked without it in public. Finally her name was called, and she walked into the room.

Maguire was an older woman, with grey hair and kind brown eyes. She was in an armchair of her own, and Kim surveyed the room.

“You can sit wherever you want, Ms. Burgess. Or do you prefer Kimberly?” Kim picked a spot on the couch, tucking her legs in close.

“It’s Kim, actually. If that’s ok.”

“I’ll call you whatever name you like. You can call me Deb if you prefer. I use she/her pronouns. What I want to do today is just talk through why you feel you need therapy, and what you want to get out of it.” She gestured to the twisted snakes on the table. “If you’re the kind of person who needs to do things with your hands, you can play with them while we talk. I won’t judge, they’re good for nerves. Whenever you’re ready you can just talk.”

Kim picked up one of them, twisting the brightly coloured plastic around and around. It took a few minutes before she could speak, and then she poured out everything that had happened in the last decade. Meeting Adam, meeting Wendy, their relationship, giving him back the ring, their constant kisses and touches, Blair and losing him, watching Adam and Hailey, semi getting back together, the baby, the miscarriage and finally fostering and adopting Makayla. She just talked and talked. By the time she finished her mouth was dry and her cheeks were wet. Deb handed her a glass of water and some tissues.

“It sounds like you’ve had…an eventful few years, I suppose? The important thing to remember is you’re not alone in this, Kim. I think we can do some really good work to help you here. But I want you to know that you are a really good candidate for potentially some medication to help with anxiety. We don’t have to go down that road now or ever, but it is a possibility if you need some extra help.”

Kim’s face blanched at the thought, and her denial came out immediately. “No, I can’t. I’m a cop, if anyone finds out I’m on medication I’ll have to leave my unit. I can’t.” She watched as Deb leaned forward in her own chair.

“I just said you’re a candidate, not that it’s something you need to do. It’s a possibility. I want you to be aware of all of the options, ok?” Kim nodded, pacified that it wasn’t an essential. “I usually give my patients homework, and for the next week whenever you see something that sets off a traumatic memory for you, I want you to jot it down on your phone. Do you have any questions?”

“What counts as traumatic? Like a flashback? Or a reminder? Because I get reminders most days if I’m honest.” She couldn’t face the therapist’s eyes, instead focusing on twisting the plastic around her wrist, like one of the bracelets Makayla had made for her.

“It’s whatever you want it to mean. What a lot of people go with is a memory that they have to work to move past. Does that sound like a good starting point for you?” Kim nodded, looking at Deb straight in the eyes at last. She’d become good at reading people, at knowing who and what they were. But there was no judgment in the woman’s eyes, just admiration. She took off the toy, standing up.

“Thanks, Deb. Same time next week?”

“Definitely.”

The week passed as it always did, a new case to solve, new horrors to witness. This time it was a pedophile targeting young boys, and she hated that she was grateful Makayla was a girl and couldn’t be targeted by this predator. Voight had kept her back on it, something she was both grateful for and disappointed by, until he mentioned he did it for himself as well. As parents they couldn’t be objective on this one.

When her next therapy appointment came around, she had a long list on her notes app of times she’d been thrown into a flashback or a memory she had to force herself out of. Deb asked her to list the worst ones.

“I was thrown down by a suspect, I couldn’t keep my eyes off the photos of the victims, I heard a couple fight while their baby cried. They were the three worst ones.” Kim had her twisty toy in her hand again as she spoke.

“Did they all remind you of one particular time? Or was it different each time?” Deb’s voice was soothing, and she didn’t take any notes during the meeting. Instead she watched Kim carefully.

“The first two were when I was beaten. When I miscarried I was on a case. I wasn’t supposed to go into the motel room, I was meant to wait for help. But he was going to kill that girl so I ran in and he beat me instead. Adam had to lift me out and get me to hospital where they told me I lost the baby. Any time I get a hit to the stomach or our victims are kids, it just hits in a different way. They’d be two and a half now, you know?” Her tears started, and she picked up a tissue to blot her eyes. “I tried doing everything right but it still happened and it’s still my fault.”

“What about the last one? It sounds like it’s about the baby too?”

“Sort of? I’ve been so angry at myself for so long. I know it’s my fault I lost them. I shouldn’t have been in there. I asked Adam to get mad at me but he didn’t. He has to be angry at me, it’s all my fault. But he never yelled. He let me lash out but he wouldn’t do it.” The tears flowed faster, a sob bubbling up from Kim’s chest as she spoke.

“He sounds like a decent guy.”

“He was the best. Anyone I ever date will end up having to match up to him. We still work together, you know?” Deb nodded, fixing Kim with a stare.

“I want to try something, Kim. Is that ok?”

“I’ll try?” She took a deep breath.

“I want you to close your eyes, and imagine that you didn’t miscarry. You had the baby and they were healthy, and you brought them home. One night you put them to bed, following all the safety rules you knew. And when you wake up the next morning, they’ve died of SIDS. Would you blame yourself?”

“No. That just happens. It’s not nice but it just happens.”

“So then when you went into that motel room, and followed all the safety requirements you could, you couldn’t see that he’d beat your stomach, could you? Wouldn’t most criminals when they saw a police officer with a gun stop what they were doing?”

Kim nodded once, very slowly. “I guess.”

“So if SIDS wouldn’t be your fault, you can’t say the miscarriage was. You saved a girl from certain death. You may have lost your child through it, but you did it right. It’s not your fault you lost your baby, Kim. You need to let go of your anger about it. You shouldn’t be angry at yourself for this.”

Kim began to sob, the realisation hitting her like a punch to the gut. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t. Adam was right, it wasn’t her fault. It took a few minutes for the tears to ease, and she blew her nose into a fresh tissue.

“I…it wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault we lost the baby.” She didn’t sound like she fully believed it, but she knew she would eventually.

“That’s right. It wasn’t your fault, Kim. You just had extremely bad luck.” They sat in silence for a few minutes before Deb spoke again. “Kim, I think you have some symptoms of PTSD. It’s very common, especially in law enforcement. We can get you through it, ok? I want you to not have to worry about whatever’s in your brain. How does that sound?” Kim nodded, sitting up taller in her seat.

“I want that. I want to be ok for Makayla, for my team, for my friends. I’ve needed this for so long but I was afraid to ask for help.”

“But you did it in the end. I want us to continue every Wednesday. Next week I’m going to give you a book about understanding PTSD so you can learn a little more. Not everything in it will apply to you, but we can talk about it and see what does and doesn’t, ok?”

“Yeah. That sounds good. Thank you.”

Kim got in the car, dazed from her therapy session but relieved. She wasn’t broken. The miscarriage wasn’t her fault. She could do it. Once she got her head straight she drove home, desperately needing the comfort her daughter could provide.

Chapter 6>

Taglist: @aruzlover @abbyscameron @morganupstead @adamruz @fullwattpadmusictree @redpoodlern

[puckinghell]

If It’s Just Pretend | Brock Boeser

Summary Request: “I’ve spent the last nine months telling my family about my amazing partner and they just dumped me before the winter break; please be my fake partner”  Word count: 5,4k Note: aka lou’s favorite cliche

---

“So,” you say, sliding onto the couch next to Brock and putting a beer on the coffee table in front of him, “why are you moping?” 

Brock’s eyebrows raise up as he looks up at you. “I’m not moping,” he says, but it sounds extremely mopey, so you roll your eyes.

“I know you better than that,” you tell him sternly, and take a sip of your drink. “You haven’t even made fun of Tuna once.” 

You pointedly shoot a glance at Jake, who’s wearing a Santa hat but no shirt as he loudly sings along to Britney Spears’ version of My Only Wish, and waltzes around Bo’s living room. 

Brock sighs. “Yeah, I guess that is unlike me, huh?” 

But he doesn’t expand. 

It’s the Canucks unofficial Christmas party, the one that comes after the official one at Rogers Arena with all the Canucks executives where everyone dresses up in suits and sparkly dresses and drinks champagne.

You’d been to that one too, but this one is the one you’ve been looking forward to. 

The one with your favorite people dressed in ugly Christmas sweaters (or no sweater, if you’re Jake Virtanen) singing Christmas songs and drinking beer and destroying Bo’s carefully decorated flat. 

You think you just heard Rouss yell something about fighting the Christmas tree. 

Now Brock is your best friend on the team - he’s been your best friend since he walked into the coffee shop where you work one day and made a pointed comment to some guy that was rude to you, after which you gave him a free coffee and your number - but you’ve spent so much time around the rest of the guys that they’re all kinda your friends, now. 

Team parties, movie nights, you’ve attended them all. Nobody ever thought it was weird that Brock brought you, not even when he had girlfriends that he probably should bring. He never did. He always brought you.

Until about 9 months ago, when he started bringing Amber around. But, even then, he made sure to always invite you, too. If it was an official team event where players were only allowed a plus one, he’d make Petey bring you.

(“I don’t mind,” Petey had said, “I like you a lot more than any other people I could bring”) 

It still... hurt, to say the least. You know it’s ridiculous, but it still felt like you had been replaced, still felt like you hadn’t been enough. 

It’s never been like that, for you and Brock, even if that’s what you wanted it to be in the beginning. It remained platonic, and you didn’t have the guts to move it along, and then Brock started dating other girls, so you just kinda gave up.

But the girls had never lasted, and you’d always been the first priority, so it was fine.

Until you weren’t, and it wasn’t. Until Amber. 

But tonight, Amber isn’t here, and Brock is sulking, so you turn around and smack Brock against the chest. He’s wearing a sweater with a gingerbread man on it, that you end up punching straight in the face.

“Stop ignoring me,” you chide. “Tell me what’s got you out of the Christmas spirit.” 

You know Brock loves Christmas: he goes all out every year, and this party is one of his favorite evenings of the year, so it must be something serious to have him sitting on the couch staring stoically ahead while nursing the same beer all evening. 

Brock sighs, and you can see the stubbornness leave his shoulders as they sag down. 

“Amber left me.” 

And... oh.

That’s not what you were expecting. 

“Oh, Brock,” you mumble, reaching out to squeeze his knee, “I’m sorry...” 

“No you’re not,” he interrupts, a little gruffly. “You never liked her. None of the guys did either.” 

You feel your cheeks flush: perhaps that’s true, but you didn’t think Brock ever noticed. He never let on that he did. 

It’s not even that you didn’t like Amber, as a person: she was fine. Not really your type of girl, but fine. You just didn’t like the way she spent her evenings clung to Brock’s arm; how you felt like you couldn’t truly be yourself with your best friend when she was around. You didn’t like the looks she shot you sometimes, as if you simply being there offended her. You didn’t like how Brock’s smile dimmed when she was around.

He always told you that he was happy, that she was great, but you never saw it reflected in the way he acted around her, or the way he looked at her. So you thought that even if they’d been together for over half a year, it probably wasn’t going to last. 

Except now he looks genuinely upset and you feel a bit bad for being right. 

“I’m not super sorry that she’s gone,” you admit, because lying to Brock is useless: he’s always been able to look straight through you. “But I’m sorry you’re upset. Why did she break up with you?” 

Brock fumbles with the label on his beer bottle. “Just, our lives didn’t really fit together...” he drawls, and you can tell he’s deflecting.

He’s not telling you everything, and any other day you would push him. But this isn’t the time, and it’s not the place, and at that time Jake trips over his own feet and nearly takes down the dinner table, so you get a little distracted.

It’s not until the end of the evening that you see Brock again. You would’ve stayed at his side like a good friend should, but it seemed like Petey had that covered, and Bo put you on Jake duty - “You’re the only sober person here, you watch him” - so you had your hands full. 

But at the end of the night, most people gone, Petey comes up to you with Brock trailing behind him. 

“He’s drunk,” Petey states, which is surprising because before you left Brock alone he’d been sipping the same beer all night, and now he’s suddenly stumbling over his feet as he’s got his big body draped over Petey’s back. “You take him home.” 

“Why do I have to do it?” You cross your arms, narrow your eyes at him. “Why can’t you do it?” 

Petey sighs, motions to Brock. He seems annoyed. “Brock, I’m going to take you home.” 

“Noooo,” Brock whines, and he’s drunker than you thought, his voice slurring and his words jumbling together. “I want Y/N.” 

Petey snorts and pushes Brock towards you. “Have fun with him.” 

“Y/N?” Brock slurs, wrapping his arms around you. “You’re here!” 

“Yep...” You nearly buckle as he puts all his weight on you. “You’re gonna have to put in some effort here, bud, I can’t carry you.” 

Brock giggles. “I could carry you though.” 

“Not right now you couldn’t.” You start guiding him to the door, that Bo already has opened for you.

“Uber’s outside,” he says, shooting a pitiful look at Brock. “Is he gonna be good?” 

“You know what, Cap, I have no idea,” you tell Bo truthfully, and then you begin the impossible task of getting Brock in the Uber.

It takes a full 10 minutes but finally you’re in the back of the car, driving towards Brock’s apartment. He’s awake but barely, his head keeps bobbing down, and finally he drops it onto your shoulder.

You feel something squeeze in your chest. You barely ever see Brock like this: he’s not the type of guy to hide his emotions, but he is genuinely a happy go lucky guy, always positive and cheerful even when things are going wrong. Even when bad things happen, he shoulders the pressure and stays strong. He always holds it together; always holds you together. 

But now he’s gripping your hand tightly, like you’re the last thing tethering him to the earth. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” you mumble, carefully carding your fingers through his hair. Brock exhales softly, and you can feel the tension slipping away from his body. 

“It’s not even about her,” he says, and the words are not only slurred together but also barely above a whisper.

You hear it, though.

“What’s it about, then?” 

“I spent... fuck, I spent nine months telling my parents how great she was, and they were so...” He pauses. “Happy, you know? That I found someone. Because they worry sometimes. About me. And they were finally gonna meet her at Christmas. And now they can’t and they’re gonna worry, my mom, she’s gonna be so worried and...” His voice trails off. “It’s not about losing her, it’s that I don’t have anyone now, and that’s gonna worry my mom, and I don’t want that.” 

Maybe, in another world, where Brock isn’t drunk on your shoulder, where you’ve got your feelings a little more under control and your heart isn’t beating in your chest, you would just pat his head and let him cry it out, leave an aspirin on the bedside table and text him tomorrow to find out if he’s still alive.

But you’ve never been good at hiding your feelings, when it comes to Brock, and Brock has never seemed so vulnerable, so you blurt out:

“I can pretend to be your girlfriend and come to your house for Christmas and your mom doesn’t have to worry.” 

The second the words leave your lips you feel your cheeks heat up: that’s stupid, obviously he’s not gonna want that, he wants Amber, not you...

But then Brock’s head snaps up and his eyes are wide as he asks: “Really? You’d do that for me?” 

You nod, and you don’t tell him you’d do just about anything for him, and somehow a week later you find yourself with Brock’s head on your shoulder again, except this time he’s asleep, not drunk, and you’re not in an Uber but on a plane to Minnesota. 

--

“This was a bad idea.” You’re standing in front of the house Brock grew up in, and you know his family is inside. Brock is next to you, holding a suitcase. 

“Why?” he frowns. “Are you nervous? You already know my parents.” 

“Yeah, but...” You don’t finish your sentence but you know Brock knows what you’re saying. You know his parents but you know them as Y/N, the friend, and not as Y/N, the girlfriend, and somehow it changes everything. 

“Hey,” Brock says gently, nudging you with his elbow. “They already love you, and they’re just gonna love you more now. It’s gonna be fine.”

And it means nothing, because he can’t know that, but something settles in your stomach. 

Then he takes your hand and you think, oh, and then, I’m screwed.

Because of course, in order to be his pretend girlfriend, you’re gonna have to act like his girlfriend. Which is just gonna be massive reminder of everything you can’t have, everything you can’t ask for.

Brock opens the front door.

“Mom, dad?” he calls out, dropping the suitcase at the door. The first person that appears is Jessica.

“Hey Jess,” he smiles, hugging her.

Suddenly, family appears from everywhere: Laurie comes out and then Paul, followed by a bunch of dogs, who are the first ones to acknowledge your presence. 

“Y/N, honey, you’re here!” Laurie says, reaching out to hug you too. “Brock, I thought you said you’d bring your girlfriend.” 

“Uhm,” he answers, and you can’t help the way your heart drops.

Because of course they wouldn’t think you’re his girlfriend. You’re just the friend. You’ve always been just a friend, you’ll always be just the friend. You’re just not girlfriend material, not for someone like Brock.

Brock scrapes his throat, hooks his arm around your waist and pulls you into his side. “Mom, Jess, Paul, you know Y/N. My girlfriend, Y/N.” 

There’s a silence, one beat, two. Then, it’s Jess that breaks out into a grin.

“Yay,” she says, “I like her.” 

And it’s like that’s it, the seal of approval; suddenly Laurie has her arm around you as she hoards you into the living room, chatting excitedly while Paul slaps Brock on the back. 

“Finally got your head out of your ass, huh?” you hear him say, but you don’t have time to overthink what that means, because Duke is there.

“Honey,” Laurie says, “it’s Y/N! She’s Brock’s girlfriend!” She turns to you. “I told him it was gonna be you but he didn’t think so, he said you were way too good for him.” 

“Hey, I heard that!” Brock protests. “Talking bad about me behind my back, pops?” 

And it’s easy, from that moment on: easy to let Laurie make you a hot chocolate, to sit by the fire talking to Paul, petting a dog, easy when Brock sits next to you and slings his arm around you. It feels comfortable, familiar; like you’re already part of the family. 

It’s easy that night too, to help Laurie with dinner, joke with Duke about football, join Paul when he teases Brock. 

“Evil, evil woman,” Brock groans, and he drops his head in your lap and you card your fingers through his hair and let yourself believe, for one night, that it’s real. 

Of course, that illusion shatters when it’s time for bed. 

“You’ll be staying in Brock’s room, I assume?” Laurie asks.

“Of course she will,” Brock says, and it’s not until you’re both in his old room that he turns to you with a frown.

“Are you okay with this?” he asks. He’s looking pointedly at the double bed. “I can sleep on the floor.” 

And, well, you’ve slept in a bed with Brock before, but only when you’re really drunk, and it doesn’t feel the same now; it feels like this is something, like it matters, not a stupid decision by two friends who both refused to take the couch.

But you’re here for three days and you’re not about to let Brock sleep on the floor at his own house, in his own bedroom, so you shrug.

“It’s fine.” 

It’s very much not fine, when Brock crawls into bed next to you wearing only sweatpants and you can feel the heat radiating off his body; or when you wake up in the middle of the night and he’s got one arm slung across your body, his warm breath stroking your cheek with every exhale. 

I’m just helping a friend, you tell yourself. It means nothing, and I can stop myself from feeling like it does. 

But then a soft snore escapes Brock’s lips and you know you’re absolutely, royally, completely fucked. 

---

The next morning Brock walks into the kitchen with his eyes half closed and his voice laced with sleep, as he mumbles a “good morning” and goes straight for the coffee maker.

You know he’s not much of a morning person but it’s still hilarious that it takes him a full ten minutes to notice. 

“Are you cooking?” His voice sounds a little more normal, but it’s still gruffer than normal and you wish it didn’t affect you so much. 

“I thought it would be nice to make breakfast for your family.” You send him a tentative smile; you didn’t discuss this, and you don’t know if you’re crossing some kinda boundary, but everyone is so busy making sure you’re taken care of that you can’t help but feel a little bad. 

Brock laughs. “Oh boy, if you thought they loved you before, they’re really gonna love you after you make them pancakes. They’re gonna be so upset when we...” 

He cuts himself off, and his eyes widen slightly. You know he didn’t realize what he was going to say, and that it’s probably not the place to say it. 

Anyone could walk in at any minute, and it wouldn’t be good if they overheard you talking about your breakup. 

Fake breakup. Whatever. 

You frown down at your pan. Maybe this breakfast thing was a bad idea, maybe...

“Hey,” Brock says softly. You look up from the pancakes and suddenly he’s standing right there, and he carefully threads his arms around your waist. “Don’t,” he mumbles, “don’t worry about it. That’s my problem, okay?”

It is his problem, but it very much feels like your problem; you don’t tell him that, though, instead smile and flip the pancake. 

“Be useful,” you scolds him, trying to get it to feel normal again, “and go set the table.” 

“Okay, babe,” Brock says, and he presses a quick kiss to the side of your head before going off to find some plates, and it very much feels not normal at all, because there was nobody around to act for. 

And so, this is where you ended, at some kinda crossroads where you can either remind yourself that it’s not real and feel miserable the entirety of Christmas, or you can allow yourself to pretend and feel miserable after. 

You watch Brock as he carefully sets down the plates, gets the coffee maker going again and baby talks the dogs as he pots around. 

It’s gonna hurt anyway. You might as well enjoy it, even if it’s just pretend. 

---

You have breakfast with the family, after which Laurie tells Brock to “go show you the town”. So you drive around the town and he shows you where he grew up: his school, old house, favorite park, and of course the rink. 

“Spent way too much time there.” The rink looks like every other ice rink in the world, but Brock is smiling at it so fondly you’d think it was a person. “That place kinda made me who I am now, you know.”

It feels strangely personal, to see this side of him. You thought you’d seen your best friend from every angle, but you’ve never seen nostalgia out of him. It softens his edges and makes everything in the car feel warm and fuzzy, a little like a dream. 

Then, on the drive back, Brock reaches over the console to grab your hand and you’re sure it must be a dream. 

He doesn’t look over at you, doesn’t speak. Christmas music is playing softly on the radio and it’s starting to snow; just small white puffs floating through the air. You allow him to thread his fingers through yours and then, suddenly, he’s smiling.

“I have an idea,” he says, and you’re proud of yourself for sounding relatively chill when you ask “what”. 

If someone would just hear your voice, they’d have no idea you’re freaking out on the inside. 

“Wanna go for a walk?” 

“Where?”

“Where” turns out to be a deserted pond, in the middle of a field. You have to climb a fence to get there and Brock ensures you that it’s not trespassing because he knows the owner, so you decide not to question it. The ice is thick and filled with bumps. 

“I used to skate on this pond,” Brock says. He carefully steps onto the ice and presses his foot into it, almost as if to make sure it’s really there. Then he holds out his hand and you step down, grasping his hand for support.

You’re not a professional hockey player, and you’re wearing boots with no profile; it’s not as foul proof as Brock might think, and you’d rather not break your leg in some abandoned field in Minnesota that might or might not be someone’s private property. 

“How?” you ask. “It’s so bumpy.”

Brock laughs. “It’s a pond. That’s how they work. But you’re right, I fell all the time.” He shrugs. “My mom says I used to come home so black and blue she was sure I would one day just not come home at all.” He pauses. “But she always let me go anyway. Knew it was the only place I wanted to be.” 

He walks to the middle. Your hand is still tightly in his, so he pulls you along, sliding on your shoes. In the middle, he stops, and you slide into his side; he doesn’t seem to mind, simply holds you there. 

Brock is staring at the sky when he speaks, almost like he’s talking to  himself, or the air, and not you. “Whenever I was upset about something,” he continues, “I would come here and I would stay here for hours. I always told myself I could just live here, until it got cold and then I went home.” He chuckles, then becomes somber again. “And now...” 

The air is charged with something, and you’re afraid to speak, afraid to break it. But the pause lasts too long, so you risk it anyway. 

“And now?” 

Brock smiles and looks at you; there’s something written all over his face but you can’t quite read it, can’t quite put a finger on it.

“Now I go hang out with you,” he finishes. 

You don’t know how you end up where you do, but Brock’s face is so close you can nearly count his eyelashes, and he’s staring at you intently, and you don’t know who leans in first but suddenly your lips are pressed together.

His hand comes up to cup your cheek, and his fingers are cold against your skin, a stark contrast with the warmth of his lips on yours. You’ve had a few first kisses but they never felt like this; they felt exciting, sure, but also scary, and unfamiliar.

With Brock, you don’t have to work to find your footing. You fit together like the perfect puzzle, and everything feels exciting, but in the same way it feels exciting to come home after a long day. Every nerve in your body settles, and you feel comfortable, safe. Like you belong. Like it’s real.

It’s not real. 

You step back, Brock’s hand dropping to his side almost comically slow. Instantly, he’s frowning.

It can’t be weird, you’re gonna die if you made it weird, because you still have to be his fake girlfriend for two days and...

How on earth are you going to survive this?

“No one to pretend for,” you joke, but it sounds foreign either to your own ears, like the words are coming from someone else. You hear a low buzz that you’re pretty sure is coming from inside your brain. 

“What?” Brock stammers. “No, Y/N, fuck, that’s not...” 

“I think,” you interrupt him, and you hear yourself sounding a little hysterical, now, “that it’s better if we go home! I promised Jess we’d watch Elf, tonight, and I wanna make some popcorn. Let’s go.” 

You jump off the ice and nearly run to the car, repeatedly reminding yourself not to cry, and spend the car ride staring out of the window with your arms wrapped around yourself. 

Brock doesn’t say anything, not until the car is in the driveway and he puts it in park. 

“Listen,” he sighs, and there’s no way you’re gonna make it through this conversation right now, so you jump out of the car and slam the door. 

The house is warm when you walk in, and almost immediately, you hear quick footsteps coming down the stairs. 

“Y/N!” It’s Jess. “I was about to paint my nails. Wanna come so I can do yours?” 

And you’re not in the mood, but it’s Jess, and it’s not her fault, and you know it’s a big deal for her to open up to people, so you plaster on the biggest smile you can muster. 

“Sure.” 

---

“Red?” Jess asks, showing you a bottle of nail polish. “For Christmas?” 

“Yeah, okay.” You really could not care less if you tried, but Jess doesn’t seem to notice. You’re sitting on her bed, in her room, and she falls down next to you comfortably, taking your hand and putting it on her leg as she opens the nail polish. 

There’s Christmas music playing.

“You’re a pretty big fan of Christmas, huh?” you ask her. 

She nods. “When I was little, I already had that.” She motions to the corner of the room, where a small plastic Christmas tree sits on a desk. “And I would put it up in October, even before Halloween. Everyone said it was crazy, and mom and dad always asked me to wait until after Thanksgiving at least, but Brock would help me put it up and say, if it brings you happiness, you keep it close to you as long as you can.” 

She smiles. “I’m glad he kept you close.” 

And you wanna yell at her: it’s not real, he doesn’t, it’s all fake, but you don’t, because with everything, he’s your best friend, and you wouldn’t do that to him. 

“Uh, yeah, me too,” you say, instead, and it comes out as a whisper. 

Jess switches hands, moving on to the other nails. 

“I know he can be a bit of an idiot, sometimes,” she muses. “But I knew even he’s not dumb enough to let go of you. Like, he never told us he was dating you, but we all kinda knew. He’s always talking about you, you know, and when he does he always sounds so in love. He just can’t keep it out of his voice. He’s an open book, like that. When he loves someone, it’s written all over him, and he clearly loves you.” 

Every single word that falls from her lips seems to hit you right in the chest, and by the time she lets go off your hand, nail polish done, your hands are shaking. 

Jess doesn’t notice. “I’m glad that it’s you,” she says, with a smile. “I never liked the girls he dated before, but I like you. I’ll tell him to stay with you forever.” 

And it’s in that moment that you decide you can’t do this anymore. 

---

“I’m going home.” 

The words are loud in a quiet living room. It’s just you and Brock; you waited until everyone else went to bed, after the movie. It was torture, to wait; your heart beating in your throat the entire 2 hours, and you were so sure Brock was going to feel it vibrate out of you, even though he kept his distance.

You guess you sufficiently freaked him out earlier, at the pond.

Now, his eyes widen and he sits up straight.

“What?” 

It’s too hard to look at him while you speak, so you stare at your hands. Red nail polish. You’ve already peeled it off because of the nerves.

“I have to go home, Brock. I can’t do this anymore.” 

Brock sits so still you can’t tell if he’s even still breathing. When he speaks, his voice is a little shaky. 

“Is it because I kissed you? Cause I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out. It just kinda happened, and...” 

“And it didn’t mean anything?” you finish for him, and it’s like a switch gets flipped. Now you’re mad. “That’s exactly why I have to go, Brock, because it doesn’t mean anything to you but it means something to me!” 

You jump up, cross your arms.

“I know this is my own stupid fault, I should’ve never come here, but I was trying to be a good friend. Because that’s just the thing, that’s all I’m ever gonna be to you. A good friend. And I know that. But this? This is just one big reminder of what I want but can’t have. Having your family act like I belong here, having you act like I belong here, it’s too much because I know that I don’t.”

Brock stands up, now, but he doesn’t say anything and you don’t really give him the time. 

“I had to listen to Jess tell me that she’s so glad I’m your girlfriend, because she likes me, and how much she can see in your eyes that you love me. And I had to sit there and say nothing because I knew if I opened my mouth I would’ve told her that she’s wrong. I love you, but you don’t love me, and I thought I could just pretend, but I can’t, Brock. It hurts too much.” 

“I didn’t know...” Brock tries carefully, but you can’t let him finish that sentence, can’t let him attempt to let you down gently. 

“I know you didn’t, because you wouldn’t have invited me over here if you did,” you tell him softly. The anger has disappeared, now, floated out of you like it was never there at all. “But you know now. So I should leave.”

And with those words, you disappear upstairs to grab your stuff. 

A little, teeny tiny part of you hopes that Brock will follow. But he never does.

---

You’re sitting on the porch, waiting for your Uber to the airport. You don’t actually have a flight yet but you’d rather sit alone at a busy airport than stomach this for a second longer: you’re only just managing not to burst into tears. 

It’s no longer snowing, but there’s a thick layer of snow across the yard. Foot prints lead up to the door. Your footprints. Then, next to them, bigger ones; Brock’s. 

God, you hate this. 

You’ve just dropped your head in your hands when the door opens behind you. It creaks, then closes and clicks softly into the lock. 

You know it’s Brock before he even sits next to you. You don’t know if it’s the sound of his footsteps or the smell of his cologne or the fact that your heart seems so tethered to his that you can literally feel his presence, but you’re not surprised when his voice cuts through the quiet night. 

“I lied to you, about why Amber broke up with me. It had nothing to do with our lives being on different paths.” He pauses, and despite yourself, you look up. He’s staring straight ahead, but then he turns around and his eyes catch yours. 

Your stomach twists.

“She broke up with me because she didn’t want to spend her life being the second most important thing in my life.” 

“Hockey,” you say, because that’s what all WAGs joke about; how they have to be okay with being the most important thing after hockey. 

But Brock shakes his head. “No, you.” 

And, uhm, well, what?

“What I did to her wasn’t fair. I dated her because I knew I had to get over you and I thought she could help me do that. But if the both of you needed me at the same time, I would fly to the moon to be with you before I’d drive to the other side of Vancouver to be with her. And she knew it, and she finally decided she wasn’t going to put up with it anymore.” 

He shrugs. “I was upset, but for all the wrong reasons. Not because I lost her. But because I knew then, that I was never going to get over you.”

“But...” you start, but now it’s his time to cut you off.

“No,” he says, gently but firm, and he turns to you completely; his knee is pressed into your thigh and he reaches out, takes your gloved hand in his. “Let me say this. You say it hurts, because I’m making you feel like you belong here and you don’t. But that’s not true. You do belong here. And you belong in Vancouver. And you belong anywhere I am, because you belong with me. And God,” he laughs, humorlessly, “believe me, it hurt me too, to see you fitting in with my family so well, as I knew you would. I knew they would love you. Because they can always tell when I love someone.” He pauses, then, softly: “And I love you.” 

This time, you know it’s you who leans in and connects your lips, but Brock is right with it, presses the palm of his hand into your lower back as he deepens the kiss. 

It feels like hours and seconds at the same time, when he pulls back; only slightly, only enough to breath.

You sigh, happily this time. “This would probably be a lot more romantic if it was still snowing,” you mumble, a smile spreading across your face.

Brock seems unbothered as he shrugs.

“We can just pretend.” 

[hiyorisarugaki]

At the end of her long, happy day filled with excitement, well wishes, gifts and treats, he is the one who brings up the rear of that steady procession of individuals who has all gladly celebrated her presence in their lives. Another year of Hiyori, another year of her living well and the privilege of watching over her as she slowly matures into an even more graceful version of herself, another year of seeing her beloved little face growing softer and lovelier with peaceful, everyday contentment and happiness. It is a blessing, and rather than congratulation, today feels more like a day for being thankful.

He saw her off in the morning with a kiss and a whispered 'happy birthday' that lit up her whole face before she left, letting her have her fun gamboling around with all the friends and different people in her life whom she has impacted and connected with in so many ways, and now, he is the last one left. The one who knows her the longest. The one who knows her best. The one who loves her the most.

He waits patiently for her to come home to him, sharply dressed to the nines, all gilded lines and sleek, handsome and golden in a way he knows will delight her. There is a present, the first one in a line of presents that he has prepared for every single day of the coming week. There is a huge cake made of the reddest, most succulent strawberries and rich, extravagant french cream specifically ordered from her favorite patisserie in Karakura months in advance. There is a bouquet of flowers; elegant, white lilies of the valley mated with feisty sprigs of lavender thistles. He is just missing her now, in all meaning of the word.

He waits until he senses her familiar presence getting nearer and nearer, thumb briefly, fondly, running over the screen of his phone before he sets it aside and stands, getting ready. 'reaching home soon,' she has quickly texted him minutes ago. The sparkling candle is lit, the fancy little jewelry box tucked into his pocket, the flowers placed tenderly on the side table just beyond the genkan.

He waits until she noisily steps through the door, once again bringing in the rush of warmth and bustling life to the previous vacuum stillness of their home. Her loud 'tadaima!!' is greeted by the sight of his smiling, winsome face, the warm timbre of his rich voice as he walks to her in the semi-dark hallway, haloed by the glowing light of the birthday candle, as he sings to her.

" Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday, dear Hiyori Happy birthday to you~ "

He had been the first in the day to wish her a happy birthday, as he saw her off to start her day. Whilst the start had been different, a birthday kiss as gentle as a raindrop, the rest of her day was like any other. She has had many birthdays now. And she loves them all in some way. Each year brought with it the prospect for gifts and reminders of how much people did actually… care about her? Because… there was a time in her life where nobody cared for Hiyori. Dumped as a baby, with not even anything to cover her body with, she still made it this far.

And now, people are giving her presents from underwear to elaborate bolts of silk (these were rare) but still… even a slice of Kensei’s cake or a Mashiro hug or Rose’s special song… she could spend all her day in the sweltering August heat, licking delicious ice-cream as a birthday treat. She doesn’t know it, but she has touched more lives than she even expects. Hiyori thought she hated a lot of people… but August 1st proves that not as many people hate her. And the one that certainly doesn’t get tired of her, no matter how difficult she becomes… is the one who has been through more birthdays than she can remember.

She returns home, stuffed full of food, good wishes and lots of presents. Her day has been exciting and during a rare evening back home, it’s her that has more news to share than Shinji. But she can’t see him?!

“Tadaima! Oeey, Shinji wait till ya see what Kisu- - ” she’s taking off her sandals at the genkan and frowning. “Why’s it so dark? Didn’t we already get lighting installed?”

She walks into her home some more, feet padding towards the reiatsu of her husband and is caught in surprise by the delicious looking cake with the single candle lighting up the face of the one man she had been desperate to see all day.

He’s singing. Something he does quite rarely, but he won’t mind obliging her when she asks. And on her birthday, too. He’s singing her a happy birthday song. She’s his only audience. His voice is warm and pleasant and she can feel her little chest swell with happiness when he sings the line dear Hiyori… his molten gold eyes pinning her gaze with his- - how dearly beloved she is to him.

His petite lover is running straight towards him, skinny arms wrapping around that dressed up boy in fitted shirt and sleek tie. He looks better than the cake and she isn’t afraid to let him know that. Tugging him gently down, she presses a kiss to his cheek, careful not to yank him and making him lose footing. Her arm winds tighter around his waist, big eyes flickering with candelight as she gazes at the huge, red cake and breathes in the scent of a freshly baked egg.

“… Ya make me the happiest.”

Lacing a hand through his, she guides him back into their living room, eyes darting everywhere to note the beautiful bouquet of flowers with her two favourite flowers interspersed within. The pure whites of the lily, mixing with the fierce thistles among them. Her heart is melting and she has to sit down. Soon. Her legs are beginning to feel a little weak and that has nothing to do with the deadly injury she received two years ago.

She sits right on his lap at the zabuton, feeling elated that Shinji isn’t minding the fact that she’s creasing up all his carefully done work. Her hands run through his hair and she presses a handful of kisses before blowing on her candle.

“Did ya know what I wished for? It’s the same this year as every year.”

She always wished to celebrate her birthdays with him. Her best friend and now, the person she was closest to. Her husband. He was closer to her than any garment she has ever worn. He protected her. Looked after her. And cherished her.

She cuts the cake, wishing her friends a good year too, before providing him the first piece with a tiny teaspoon. “Feed me.”

Even if she gives him the first piece, the first bite is hers. She holds his wrist to guide it to the cake, then offer her a bite size piece into her waiting mouth. Hiyori licks the cream right off her lips before grinning at him.

“Happy birthday ‘ta me, huh? Are ya my present?” She leans in, pressing birthday-cake flavour kisses against his mouth before taking a piece for herself. She may have eaten a lot today, but eating with Shinji was a different sort of pleasure.

She stole a few more of his pieces of cake (more like he hand fed them to her anyway), but was always happy to give him a taste through soft kisses.

“I love you. Yer always my favourite present, Shinji."

[let-me-write-shit]

Somebody To You: 4

I post a new chapter every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday!

Warning: implied smut

Word Count: 4,806

Click Here For Previous Chapter & Other Completed Stories

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

CHAPTER FOUR

“If you two don’t stop eye fucking I’m gonna have to call HR,” Andy whispered with a smile in Zoey’s ear, hip checking her as he passed.

Zoey forced her eyes off of Brett from the other side of the bar and felt around her chin to make sure she hadn’t drooled. Two weeks had passed since they had slept together and the sexual tension between them only seemed to grow. Flirting only barely seemed to get her by and Andy consistently pointed out that she was staring again.

“Why don’t you just fuck in the storage room and be done with it? Y'all are making me horny just looking at you two,” Andy dumped ice into a shaker and started mixing a drink for a patron.

Zoey finished weighing out the last of the liquor for inventory and looked at him incredulously, “Why would you put that in my head? Do you think anyone would notice?”

Andy stopped what he was doing and stared at her in disbelief before rolling his eyes dramatically and finished the cocktail. She had gotten her set schedule after the first week, having the same schedule as Andy and work overlapping typically by the second half of Brett’s shift, except Mondays. Mondays were her only early shift day with Brett, ending at 9 PM, and were usually slow, so the night seemed to drag. Luckily, with her new schedule she’d be off Tuesdays and Wednesdays and she works late shift the rest of the week which means more patrons and more tips. And since she worked at a high end bar, most people tended to tip really well. A little cleavage helped, too.

The only downside to working nights was that no one was really home during the day. The only time the girls had was around dinner to catch up and chat, and they had weekends during the day time if no one made plans. But, Aurora’s been really busy with photo and video shoots, interviews, and meetings, and even though Nancy didn’t work a typical nine to five office job, she was still really busy piecing her work together in her room or out of the apartment for a meeting or to prepare fo some kind of deadline with her manager. 

Luckily, her hours matched up with Harry’s schedule pretty well, even though he was on the other side of the country. At night, he obviously had a show to perform, usually while Zoey was at work, but the rest of his day typically consisted of either traveling, small meetings with his tour team, rehearsing, or all three. Still, he always found time to respond to her texts.

Their friendship was strange because they’ve only known each other for two weeks (three if you count the one day they spoke when she first moved in), but it feels like it’s been much longer. She often had to remind herself that he doesn’t know her family and never met Michael, Katie, or Jess whenever they talk about her home life, which was often.

At least once a day, without fail, Harry would ask her to tell him more about Jess, or a memory that she was fond of growing up. The questions always came at the perfect time and he seemed genuinely interested to hear what she had to say, engaging in the conversation. It helped Zoey to talk about Jess - it made her feel as though her best friend’s memory wasn’t fading. That someone cared enough to learn and talk about her in a positive way.

A brief phone call with her family made her realize this when her mom started crying that she missed Zoey and compared her daughter moving across the country to Mr. and Mrs. Lewis losing their daughter in a car accident; that she doesn’t get to see her anymore. Zoey knew she didn’t mean for it to be so insensitive, but her mom got an earful after that. 

During a text conversation with her little sister, Katie, Zoey was filling her in on her outings with her new friends and a simple ‘you deserve to have nice friends again. Jess would have wanted it. I’m happy for you.’ made her bawl, though she’d never tell Katie that. Instead, she ran to Harry to talk about it.

She noticed during one of their chats the week prior that Harry was the only person she’d talk to about Jess without crying. And to prove her point, she had a quick catch up with Michael, and just the memory of the three of them together made her get emotional. It could have been because Harry didn’t know her personally, or because he’s been through similar situations, but she was grateful for the opportunity to involve Jess in a conversation without sobbing by the end of it. 

Herself and Harry had started doing this thing where every time they were being hard on themselves or feeling particularly down, they’d send each other a GIF, video link, or text of a random quote from ‘The Princess Bride’, which always seemed to keep them in check.

Brett started making his way over to her and she hastily got back to work, having some banter with a few of her regulars and grabbing them another glass of beer when she felt a firm hand on her lower back. She drew her attention upwards to Brett who grinned at the men and charmingly joked, “Hello, men. Zoey treating you alright?”

“As always,” they nodded, holding up their newly filled glasses, “She’s our favorite server here.”

“They’re only saying that because I give them beer and let them talk shit,” Zoey smiled at them, shooting them a friendly wink.

“See what I mean? Can’t ask for much else,” one of the men laughed.

Andy overheard the conversation and in passing added a, “she’s just an angel, isn’t she?”

But the men must not have picked up on the sarcasm because they responded, “Yes, she is! Makes no sense why you’re single.”

“Relationships?” Zoey fed into them, “No way. I just got out of a four year relationship. I don’t need to be trapped again so soon.”

It’s not that she didn’t enjoy her relationship with Michael. She did, and he was a lovely guy. It was just her way of communicating with her patrons; by mirroring and matching. It’s how she was able to bond and build relationships so quickly, especially with her regulars. These two in particular loved to talk shit on their wives, so Zoey found ways to add to the conversation without antagonizing the subject. And her favorite trick when having these conversations was to turn their mindset around before they left. Little things to make them ease up on their spouse. Something along the lines of ‘That’s a nice shirt. Did your wife get it for you? She’s got great taste, you look amazing in that!’ or ‘Your wife made you spaghetti for dinner? Lucky guy, I don’t know many women who know how to cook anymore’. Usually little white lies like that made them feel better about their wives without her actually having to say ‘shut the hell up and be nice to your wife, you old dingbat’ and she usually got better tips by the time they left.

The men raised their glasses in agreement to her statement and Brett turned his head to the side, wordlessly asking if he could borrow her for a moment. They stepped towards the back of the bar, doing a quick once over to make sure Andy didn’t need more assistance before he leant against the edge of the counter cooly and asked, “Are we still on for tonight?”

“Yeah. Your shift ends at 9 PM, too, right?” she asked, earning a nod. She continued, “Okay, everyone else will probably take a little longer to get there. Jake and Melissa are gonna be picking up some food, and Andy left a few things at his apartment he needed to grab. So you can always head over with me after work, or meet me there later.”

Nancy had flown back home over the weekend to celebrate her friend’s wedding and spend time with family, and Aurora had gone to Virginia for a shoot where Harry was coincidentally doing a show in the town over which allowed her an opportunity to see him in concert and spend some time with him before he left for the next city in the morning, so Zoey used the empty condo as an opportunity to invite some new friends over for a game night, with her roommates knowledge, of course. All of her friends worked with her on rotating days, so they were used to the hours.

“I’ll just go with you. It’ll be easier that way,” he said casually before his lips twitched upwards, “You know, if you wanted alone time with me, all you had to do was ask.”

“Shut up,” Zoey giggled, playfully hitting his chest.

The rest of their shift steadily got more quiet, slowing out to only six patrons in the bar by the time their shift was over. Andy, Brett, and Zoey clocked out and headed towards the employee parking lot around back. 

“I’ll call you when I’m five minutes away. You better not miss my call to let me in ‘cuz y’all are busy humpin’ on the kitchen counter,” Andy shook a key at them with an eyebrow raised, causing the two to laugh.

“I don’t screw where the food goes,” Brett responded, “but the couch is a different story.”

“Nasty,” Andy scrunched his nose at them before getting in his car and starting it up.

Zoey led Brett to her car, slipping into the driver's seat as he rounded to the passenger side. A few stray hairs had fallen from her messy ponytail and she smoothed them back, turning the AC on low fan. Evenings in May seemed to be fairly cool in LA so far. The stereo bluetooth automatically connected to Zoey’s phone and began playing ‘Are You Bored Yet’ by Wallows, which startled her, quickly turning down the volume. Being in such a confined space with Brett made her nervous. He had a distinct smell of beer and coconuts, which seemed like an odd mix, but somehow it worked. She could really stand a few shots right now to ease the tension. Too bad she was driving.

“So what’s the deal with your roommates? They out?” Brett asked as they pulled onto the freeway.

“Yeah, Nancy’s with her family and Rory is in Virginia for work. She might actually be with Harry right now, though,” she noticed the time, doing quick math and realizing it was Midnight on the east coast and Harry was probably done with his show by now, remembering he said he had some kind of after party planned with a few of his band mates and tour members, which she thought was weird for a Monday night.

“Wild that you’re all friends with him. But it seems like everyone knows everyone in LA, so I shouldn’t be surprised. So what’s his deal? Are they dating?”

When he put it that way, she did find it a little crazy. She never put too much thought into the fact that she knew Harry Styles, let alone was on a friendly communicating basis with him. She supposed it was just because of the timing when they met, she wasn’t in the right headspace, so by the time they started getting close, the shock and exposure to him had already sunk in and didn’t seem new.

“Uh...kinda? I don’t know, it’s complicated,” Zoey responded. 

And it was true. She honestly had no clue what was going on between Harry and Rory. Honestly, she didn’t even think they knew what was going on with each other. She couldn’t blame them, though. They were both super busy at the moment and their hangout today would only make it a total of five times they’ve seen each other in person. She wasn’t even sure if they had an actual date yet or not.

Brett nodded and a moment of silence filled the car. She felt him staring at her and he shifted his body towards her letting his elbow rest on the center console, his muscular arms so big that they lightly brushed against hers. She did a triple take, the pull of his gaze too strong to ignore, “What?” she asked, putting a hand on her cheek to conceal her blushing.

“You should go on a date with me.”

“What?” she sputtered. He was so straightforward and his confidence in his statement took her off guard. Brett was about to repeat himself when it clicked and she said, “I can’t go on a date with you.”

“Why not? Was I that bad in bed?”

“Well, now that you mention it…” she joked. Brett gasped in mock disappointment and she continued, shaking her head, “We work together. I don’t want things to get sticky at work. Besides, I was serious with what I said tonight. I just got out of a four year relationship. I’m not ready to jump into another one right now. Especially not the first guy I sleep with.”

“It’s a date, Zoey. Not a marriage proposal. We can keep it casual if you want. I just like spending time with you, that’s all. Please? Just one date.”

Zoey paused in contemplation. The idea of keeping things casual with Brett did sound appealing. It reminded her of Nancy and Cade’s situation, almost like a friend’s with benefits. No strings attached. She wasn’t opposed to it. If only Jess were here right now to see a sexy Australian man begging to go on a date with her. Twenty five years in Pennsylvania and she barely turned heads, but a week in LA and she’s getting hit on daily by successful, attractive men and her sexy foreign coworker? The move and personality upgrade was really working out for her and she was kicking herself for not listening to Jess sooner.

“I don’t know...”

“If it’ll make you feel more comfortable we can do a double date with someone. Andy and whoever. Or even Rory and Harry. Whoever you want.”

Zoey pursed her lips in contemplation, “Okay, I’ll think about it.” He smiled widely and Zoey quickly added, “Don’t get your hopes up. I haven’t said yes yet.”

“Good enough for me,” Brett said, a smirk spreading across his face, “So what are the odds of me getting you back in that bed tonight?”

“Slim to none,” she snorted.

“...So you’re saying there’s a chance?”

Once at her condo, Brett took a seat at one end of the sectional while Zoey quickly straightened up and drug out a few games from Nancy’s stash, with her blessing. It didn’t take long for Jake and Melissa to show up with a few two liters of soda, three boxes of pizza, and some wings for everyone to enjoy, and as soon as Andy arrived, twenty minutes later, they all dug in while catching up and joking about different work related instances.

They were in the middle of trying to decide if they wanted to play ‘5 Second Rule’ or ‘Incoherent’ when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She struggled to pull it out of her tight black pants and saw a text from Harry. Opening it, she saw a GIF of Princess Bride with the quote that read ‘Life is pain, highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something’.

Zoey snorted, typing back, ‘Okay, melodramatic. What happened? Didn’t get a big enough crowd at the concert tonight?’

She placed her phone face down on her thigh and laughed at Andy who was mocking Brett’s accent because he didn’t want to play ‘5 Second Rule’, which Brett was fighting hard for, listing all the pros and cons to the game. Her phone buzzed again, once, twice, and on the third buzz she got confused, thinking he was sending her rapid texts at first, only to turn the phone over and see that Harry was calling her. She hadn’t expected a call from him, and they never spoke over the phone with each other before like he did with Nancy and Rory. Her friends realized she had gotten a phone call and turned to look at her as she stood up.

“One sec,” she called, heading down the hall.

“Hurry! I need you to back me up so we don’t have to start out with this stressful, dumbass game!” Andy called after her.

She heard Brett quickly retort, “You just don’t like it cuz you can’t think quickly!” and a cracking noise that sounded almost like a slap before slipping into her bedroom and closing the door behind her.

Warily, she answered the phone and whispered, “Hello?”

Harry’s deep, exhausted voice sounded through her phone, dramatically quoting another line from Princess Bride, saying, “Fezzik! Listen! Do you hear? That is the sound of ultimate suffering. My heart made that sound when Rugen slaughtered my father.”

She laughed, pacing the length of her room, her brief feeling of shock being replaced with curiosity. “What could possibly have gone wrong at…” she checked the clock and quickly converted the time difference on the east coast, “Almost 2 AM? Where’s Rory?”

Harry groaned, “We got into a fight.”

“Well...did you do something stupid?”

“I didn’t think it was a big deal at first, but it turned into one apparently.”

The more he spoke and the more she heard his voice, the more it started to hit her who she was talking to. She wasn’t a huge follower of his, but she was a fan enough to have heard him speak in videos and interviews that to be able to have these kinds of conversations with him and it be normal knowing that they were friends was hard to wrap her head around. Even so, hearing his voice over her phone wasn’t as startling as she thought it should be. In fact, it felt more calming than anything else.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Well, after the show, Rory came backstage and I was introducing her to some people and said, ‘This is my friend, Rory’....”

“....Okay?” Zoey urged, waiting for him to continue. But he didn’t.

“See?! It wasn’t a big deal! But she got upset that I called her my friend and was being sort of quiet and when I asked if she was okay she just kind of went off asking me how I could introduce her as a friend after we just had sex and after I flew out to see her twice, and accused me of leading her on and all this stuff.”

Zoey listened, continuing to pace the room as Harry ranted. When he finished, she cleared her throat and spoke carefully, “Well...Harry, she’s not entirely wrong.”

“You think I was leading her on?!” Harry sounded more hurt than offended. “I just introduced her as my friend and she got mad. I wasn’t lying. She’s not my girlfriend. What else was I supposed to say?”

“Exactly. She’s not your girlfriend. And who’s fault is that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Look, you know she likes you. And you obviously like her, too. I mean why else would you fly across the country to spend one day with a person…”

“I do it all the time,” he defended himself.

“Okay, Mr. Perfect. The point is, you two already act like a couple. You talk almost every day. You’re not seeing anyone else but each other - at least, as far as I’m aware. Don’t you think it’s possible that she’s been waiting for you to ask her out and make it official, and by you introducing her as a ‘friend’, you could have just invalidated her entire impression of your relationship and where it was headed?”

Harry sighed, and after a moment to process he breathed, “I didn’t mean to invalidate her feelings. And it’s not like I don’t want to date Rory. We talk all the time, yeah, but I still don’t know her that well and I didn’t ask her to not see anyone else. We haven’t even been on a date yet. Plus, I just don’t want to start a relationship in the middle of tour when I have two months left. I’ve been doing this enough to know that travel can really hurt a relationship. Most people can’t deal with the distance and time restraints. Maybe if she’s still interested by the time the tour is over, then we can maybe talk about making things official. I’m just not ready yet.”

“Trust me, I get it. But did you tell her that?”

“No.”

“Well you need to tell her something so she doesn’t feel like she’s wasting her time. Don’t just leave her hanging like that.”

“I can’t ask her to wait for me. That’s not right. I want her to do it because she wants to, not because I’m dangling the promise of a possibility over her head.”

Zoey pursed her lips, understanding what he was saying while rummaging through her dresser for pajamas to change into, “Just tell her that you’re sorry and you understand where she’s coming from, but that you don’t want to rush things, especially while you’re in the middle of touring, and if she’s okay with it, the two of you can just take things one day at a time and you just want to get to know her more for now. Just be honest with her, Harry. Give her the benefit of the doubt. She’s a very understanding person.”

“Yeah, you’re right. That sounds good,” Harry responded, the words clicking in his head.

A knock on the door startled her and Andy’s muffled voice echoed through the crack, “I got them to agree on ‘Incoherent’ first, so hurry the hell up!”

“Be right there!” Zoey called back.

A gasp was heard from her phone as Harry muttered, “Shit! I forgot you were doing game night tonight. I’m so sorry for interrupting.”

“It’s fine. It only just started. There’s not many of us.”

“Is Theo there?” Harry quipped, the nickname Harry gave Brett made her laugh. Ever since he mentioned that Brett looked like Theo James from Divergent, she wasn’t able to unsee it.

“Yeah, he’s here,” she giggled, quickly changing out of her work clothes and into some sweats, fixing her ponytail.

“What’s going on with you two anyway?” Harry asked, “Are you dating, or just flirting still?”

“Funny you should mention that. He asked me on a date earlier.”

“Really? You gonna go?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t want anything serious right now, but he says we can keep it casual.”

“So...friends with benefits?” Harry pressed.

“That’s why I’m not sure. I don’t know how I feel about it, especially with someone I work with. But it’s only one date. I guess I could see how it goes. He did say that we could go on a double date if I’d feel more comfortable and suggested you and Rory. But I know your schedule’s gotta be insane with the tour and you’ve already flown back enough times.”

“I wouldn’t mind. I’m actually off for three days next week. I had plans Tuesday morning, but I could probably fly out right afterwards and head back Thursday. So maybe Wednesday night we could all go out?”

“Really? You don’t have to if it’ll be too much for you.”

“No, I want to. I told you, I do it all the time. My team will hate me, but oh well. It’ll be fun. I should probably go fix things with Rory first, though.”

Zoey laughed, “Good idea. Good luck.”

They each said goodbye and Zoey threw her phone on the charger before making her way back out to the living room. She took her spot back next to Andy and she smiled, excited to start the game with her friends. She felt proud of herself as she took in the scene, seeing her small group of friends laughing and joking together. She felt like she was finally starting to build the life she always wanted for herself. She never had this many people who she genuinely cared for and that cared for her in return. Sure, she had Jess and Michael, but that was really it. Zoey was finally creating a little family away from her family and it felt good.

After a few more games, everyone was beginning to get tired so the group decided to settle down with a movie. Zoey had dozed off, her head resting on Andy’s lap with her body curled into a ball. When she stirred awake it was nearly 3 AM and she noticed everyone else had passed out. Brett was in the corner and Jake and Melissa were cuddling on the other end. Her mouth was dry and tasted of cotton. Carefully, trying not to wake Andy, she slipped off of the couch and tiptoed towards the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

The blue light on the fridge dispenser illuminated as a steady stream of water poured into her glass. It looked so clear and refreshing that her mouth started salivating at the thought of it when she heard a shuffle behind her. She jumped, turning to see Brett padding his way in, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Jesus!” she clutched her chest again. How was she so easily scared?

He ignored her shock. “Can I have one?”

Zoey passed him the glass she had just poured and grabbed another glass for herself, filling it up with water. Brett gulped it down and let out a breath of air when he finished it before she had even raised her cup to her lips. She raised an eyebrow, sipping at the water.

“Tonight was fun, huh?” he asked in a low voice, leaning against the counter.

Zoey nodded, putting her half drunk glass of water down, “Yeah, thanks for coming.”

“We should do game nights more often. Nancy and Rory can join next time, too.”

“They’d love that,” Zoey agreed, taking another sip of water.

After a moment of silence, Brett spoke up again, “So...have time to think about that date yet?”

The water went down the wrong pipe and she struggled trying not to make a scene of choking, holding it in. But her eyes water as she spoke, “Yeah, uhm,” she caved and cleared her throat, continuing, “Yeah, I actually talked to Harry. He’s the one that called earlier, and he said he was down to do a double date next Wednesday, if that’s okay.”

It was hard to look at Brett when he smirked like that. He must have pulled so many girls by that look. Actually, she KNEW he pulled so many girls by that look from the amount of numbers he got at the bar. And honestly, she didn’t mind. It’s not like she saw a future with him. But he was hot and she trusted Brett enough to have a little fun with him.

Jess’ words kept replaying in her mind, again. ‘It’s fun not having strings attached’ and ‘Have fun, but be safe.’ Zoey thought about those exact words every day since she last had sex with Brett and how right her friend was. It’s not that she needed to have sex, but the liberation she felt by just being able to have sex with who she wanted and when she wanted was something so incredibly exhilarating and indescribable. She knew that a commitment was never a requirement to have sex, and she was reminded of this often by Jess, but it took her best friend dying and her moving across the country to really understand that. And to see Nancy, her kind, fun, carefree roommate, doing what she wanted to do and not worrying about what others might think really broadened her outlook on sex and intimacy.

Brett’s mouth was moving, and she knew he was talking, but Zoey couldn’t hear a damn thing. All she could pay attention to was his dark, mysterious eyes and his juicy, plump lips and how badly she wanted to taste them. Fuck it, she thought, grabbing him by the shirt and standing on her tiptoes to smash her lips onto his. He flinched, shocked by her abruptness, but quickly pulled her closer to his solid chest. When she finally pushed away from him, her heart pounded and her lips were already damp from his. Zoey could feel her body tingling from her knees up to her eyes as she craved someone, anyone’s touch. Brett could be enough for now.  

“Let’s go,” she urged, looking up at him through her eyelashes. 

Still stunned and unable to find the words to say, Brett nodded, mouth still agap, as she led him towards her bedroom.

KEEP READING

Let Me Know What You Think

[piermanwalter]

Harlan-Ellison-Scale Unhinged Star Wars Fanfic Idea

After Order 66, Echo’s mind is in a gleeful haze. The same wonderful feeling he felt after carrying out an order, he now felt at a low level all the time. But a strange voice in his head keeps encouraging him to defy Imperial authority.

Echo is convinced the voice in his head is a hidden Jedi survivor using the Force to communicate with him. After a painful goodbye to his squadmates who no longer acknowledge him, Echo escapes to find the source of the voice. The voice helps him travel far away and Echo tries to find out as much about this person as possible, although they seem reluctant to give any personal information. 

This person shows extreme proficiency in machines and equally extreme confidence. Was it Anakin? 

When Anakin Skywalker killed the Separatist Council on Mustafar, Wat Tambor’s death activated the transfer of his consciousness into Echo and now he has to share a brain with this atrocious creature, who is quickly becoming the only familiar thing in an increasingly unrecognisable galaxy. 

Thus Echo embarks on a great quest to get rid of what is essentially a demonic possession by finding a Techno Union base to upload him into. This is harder than first assumed because the Empire is occupying most of them.

Wat Tambor can tap into all of Echo’s senses and memories and can override his mechanical components. I’m envisioning a scene where Echo is trying to claw himself towards someone familiar with his one organic arm while the rest of his limbs are dragging him away.

Echo keeps Wat Tambor in line by threatening to get his implants surgically removed, but Wat retaliates by threatening to delete Echo’s memories. Wat can’t actually erase memories formed before the brain implants but he manages to gaslight Echo into believing he can. “Do you remember your Bad Batch squadmate Sapper? No? Do as I say or Fives is next.”

Echo finally catches on and figures out he can lose the implants without much consequence. After finding a doctor willing to operate on him, Echo falls unconscious from anaesthetic and when he wakes up, the implants are still in him and the doctor is dead on the floor. 

Echo goes to sleep and wakes up in a different room. He realises Wat Tambor gains total control of his body when he’s asleep and stays up for nine straight days. This leads to disaster and Echo resigns himself to never knowing what Wat does while he’s asleep. 

Echo starts hallucinating Wat Tambor in crowds. Echo stands above a trash compactor so he can hallucinate Wat Tambor getting crushed and Wat enacts vengeance by forcing Echo to remember getting blown up. They stay like that for several hours until security kicks them out. 

Echo wakes up and his arm is a rotary cannon.

Wat Tambor tries to get a brand new starship and finds out he’s been locked out of all his bank accounts and then Echo’s like, “Can’t buy yourself out of this one, rich boy? Hahaha. Shut the fuck up.” Attempting to withdraw from that account sent an alarm for a strike force to their location and they nearly die. 

Advantages of being piloted by a war criminal: 24-hour vigilance, knowledge of obscure topics and languages, he occasionally does useful things while Echo is asleep, fix and hack basically everything, sublime dual-wielding 

Disadvantages of being piloted by a war criminal: holy fucking shit this needs no further explanation

Echo rescues another clone trooper and Wat Tambor demands to surgically remove his control chip to prevent him from turning on them. Echo doesn’t trust Wat with any clones’ brains after what Wat did to him and refuses. Surprisingly, Wat doesn’t remove the chip while Echo is asleep. With a brother to talk to, Echo hallucinates less and is easily able to regain control of his mechanical limbs. And then the clone is forced to betray him for the Empire and Echo has to kill him. While Echo is devastated, Wat’s like, “What did you expect, moron? You should have let me operate on him.”

Echo finally calls out Wat Tambor for everything he did and Wat’s counterargument is like, “I haven’t done anything to you that the Republic didn’t do first or I haven’t done to myself. Your creation is an investment by the Republic, as is your enhancement an investment by the Techno Union, as is my career an investment by Skako. Don’t judge me by human morality.” and then Echo’s like “Fine I’ll judge you by the morality of your own species. So you’re an investment? You blew octillions of credits on a war and you still lost. The Empire owns everything you ever made. Your people are blockaded and starving in the Deep Core. What a big fucking payoff you turned out to be.”, which manages to silence Wat Tambor for a blessed two weeks.

Now with the upper hand in his own brain, Echo breaks into Wat Tambor’s file directory and tries to delete him by force. Echo can’t delete anything but Wat also can’t make him leave, so he gets redirected through a series of increasingly terrible memories, starting from Wat’s perspective on Echo’s own cyborg conversion and steadily getting worse. What he sees is so horrific and incomprehensible Echo never tries to access Wat’s directory again. Echo’s hallucinations increase and Wat Tambor now appears every time he speaks. He’s very smug about this.

Echo encounters Imperial Death Troopers which sends him into blind rage as he realises all of his brothers were destined to either die early or become a cyborg just like him. Wat is also mad because the Empire stole his idea.

Echo finds a secret Techno Union droid factory that is now occupied by the Empire and being used to make security droids. He resolves to dump Wat there or die trying. Echo poses as a Death Trooper stationed in the same system and tries to work his way into being allowed into the secret factory. Despite everything he befriends his new squadmates whose personalities haven’t been completely consumed by cybernetics. Echo still needs to get rid of Wat so he finally gets his act together and breaks into the factory, gets arrested, and is locked in a cell awaiting reeducation. 

Echo blacks out for three days and wakes up in a stolen shuttle. Both the Imperial base and droid factory are giant craters. Wat Tambor is still there. Echo’s like, “How did you blow up the base?” and Wat’s like, “Yes.” and Echo’s like, “That’s not a fucking answer. Why didn’t you upload yourself into the droid factory like we planned?” and Wat’s like, “Would you want to live in a sarlacc pit?” and Echo’s like “Why didn’t you tell me you don’t want to live in that factory so I don’t spend half a year doing stupid bullshit?” and Wat’s like, “Is a vacation.” and Echo’s like, “Shut the fuck up. You fucking salad. Get the fuck out of my head.” and Wat’s like, “Vacation is over. It’s time to find another Techno Union facility.” and Echo’s like, “You killed all my new friends.” and Wat’s like, “I didn’t kill your new friends. You did. And you will do it again if you keep wasting my time like this.”

Echo finds people he trusts and tries to explain there’s a Separatist leader occupying his brain. Naturally they don’t believe him and ask him to prove it by saying something only Wat Tambor would know, but Wat doesn’t say anything and Echo is seen as insane. 

One second Echo is intentionally drinking the nastiest soup in his life out of spite at a dingy cantina on Nar Shadda and he blinks and then he’s covered with jewellery in a Coruscant casino. Initially he assumes Wat is up to his usual motherfuckery again and finds a lonely balcony to yell at him, but gets no reply. Echo goes into a crowd to trigger a hallucination but still nothing. Steeling himself, Echo breaks into Wat Tambor’s cursed directory but it’s completely empty except for one text file. It reads:

CT-1409 you easily manipulated idiot. If you are reading this, you successfully uploaded me into a suitable Techno Union facility. I have deleted the last three months of your memory to prevent anyone from finding me through you. The timing of my departure is purposefully unclear. Don’t look for me.

Out of habit Echo’s like, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” but there’s still no reply. The file deletes itself and Echo is left wondering if Wat Tambor really did occupy his brain or if he just lost his mind for the last year. 

The noise in the casino is getting to him and Echo cashes the thick stacks of gambling chips he found in his pockets before leaving. There’s what appears to be a keycard in his pocket and while Echo’s trying to figure out what it could be for, a huge droid runs up, hits him in the stomach with the corner of a metal case, and leaves before he can react. There’s a rotary cannon in the case.

[hazinhoodies]

If You Love Something… (H.H)

A/N: This is from a request i got super long ago. like over a year ago long ago.  I will say that it is much better than it would’ve been a year ago so to that anon that requested this, if you still follow me, here you go. also this is my first Harry fic i’ve posted.

Warnings: So much fluff bro. all fluff. so soft dude.

Word Count: 3.4k

Request: Fluff Harry request you were best friends, and ended up falling for each other but never told one another. Your friendship faded as time went on and then one day you saw each other and a spark flew between you two and you accepted the feelings you both denied since you were younger

Summary: If you love something, let it go. if it comes back...

Harry flips through the photo album. One of the ones that his mum kept on the top of the bookshelf in the living room. The albums filled with years of photos that only collected dust until one of three things happened. One: Someone comes home with a new girlfriend and mum wanted to embarrass them. Two: Family comes over and they want to reminisce. Three: Blackmail. Which happens to be exactly why Harry has the album sat in his lap, flipping through the pages. He’s looking for a very specific photo. One of him and Sam when they-

The thought completely slips his mind, no longer important once he glances past one photo. He double takes back to it and is filled with a sense of nostalgia and comfort. A comfort that almost immediately dislodges itself in his stomach, flipping around to a feeling that he can’t quite place. One he hasn’t felt in a while but leaves him yearning for some sort of resolution to rid him of the pit that’s formed in his stomach.

Harry couldn’t have been older than nine in the photo, if that. He’s wearing a superman costume and giving a smile to the camera, holding his pillowcase in front of his legs. You stand in a similar position next to him. Dressed as Violet from the Incredibles and giving the camera a big and bright smile even though you’re missing a tooth. He knew this photo existed, he remembers taking it. His mum has stopped the two of you on the porch before you left with his dad to go trick or treating. He didn’t know about the one after it.

Your arms are wrapped around shoulders in a hug and Harry can see in the photo that he’s trying to turn to hug you back, the photo had only been taken too soon to see the full hug. The third photo is still on the porch, but now he’s holding onto your hand, pulling you down the stairs as you wave bye to his Nikki. The last one in the set was later that night, in the living room, the two of you sat right next to each other with all of your candy dumped on the floor in two separate piles in front of you. Harry leans over you to grab something from your pile while you notice the camera and show yet another toothless smile.

Harry continues to flip through the book. Hoping for more photos of you. He hasn’t seen you in so long and these photos are bringing back so much, almost too much. He passes more photos, noticing how the two of you get older as they go on. More ones that he had no idea they were ever taken. Plain old boring ones, one of you studying and him with a textbook open on his knees. One of you laughing, your eyes squinted and hand covering his mouth. One where you’re both sitting on a couch, your head in his lap. A similar one but this time his head is on your thigh and your hands are in his hair. You must have been fifteen. The two of you, on the couch, asleep. Textbooks discarded. His arms around you, your head resting his shoulder, your hand on the other and his head resting on top of yours. Wonder of why his mum saved these photos pass his mind but they’re gone as fast as they came when his eyes catch three more photos.

You’re sixteen. Harry would’ve been seventeen in a week. Nine days to be exact. This day is so vivid in his mind still. The photo shows the two of you hugging, his face buried in your hair, fingertips turning white from pulling you into him so much. He didn’t want you to go. That was more than obvious. On the same front porch from the Halloween photos but this time Harry was in socked feet and his pyjamas, meanwhile you were fully dressed. The second photo is from the same hug, arms still wrapped around each other but the two of you lean back to look at each other. Harry breaks at the photo. He remembers the tears that slipped down your cheeks and how you shook in his arms, partially from the cold February air and partially from trying to control your own breathing. You’d nearly forced your parents to take you to their house before you moved away for who knows how long. It was only nine thirty in the morning when you showed up, knocking on the door until Tom had opened it. You didn’t even have to say anything before Tom told you he’d go get him. Harry has started down the stairs calmly but when he saw you nearly crying he had sprinted down the rest of the way, almost tripping over his own feet before wrapping you in a tight hug. It lasted for six minutes and thirty nine seconds. Still wasn’t long enough. After the six minutes and thirty nine seconds were up, that was the last he’d seen you.

The third photo was you realizing that there’s a camera nearby, wiping a tear away and sending a smile towards it. A sad smile, but a smile nonetheless. Harry was still hugging you. The photos had come full circle. Back to you and Harry. On the porch, in a hug.

Harry is pressing his hand against his mouth, sliding it across his face and wiping away a tear that hadn’t yet fallen. He was never a crier but you were his best friend. He doesn’t really know when the two of you had stopped texting but it had happened. It hurt to let you go. You never knew, or maybe you did but he never told you, that he loved you. But he did. You were his first best friend, other than Sam of course but he doesn’t count in the same way. It had never really gone away. The feeling of comfort that settled in his stomach whenever you were around. Or the way his heart would go just a little bit faster any time that you put your head on his shoulder or how he got inexplicably angry whenever you were upset.

Harry shuts the book, giving up on the photo he had originally been looking for. He replaces the book and starts to head back to his room, passing Sam on the way.

“You alright, mate?” Sam stops Harry, placing a hand on his shoulder as he passes by. Harry turns around.

“Yeah, ‘M fine” Harry lies through his teeth. Sam doesn’t buy it though. First of all, he’s his twin. He knows when he’s lying. Second of all, Harry’s a ginger, and he can’t hide the blotchiness in his face even though he had hardly teared up, his complexion has betrayed him.

“What happened?” Sam questions him further, not accepting the answer he’d gotten before. Harry looks at him, trying to convey that he doesn’t want to answer. His message gets through to Sam but it’s only returned with a ‘tell me what’s going on’.

“I just found some old photos is all. Ones of me and Y/N” Harry admits, feeling his heart sink when he says your name. The full feeling of missing you, wanting to hug you again, feel your hair tickle his nose, and hear your laugh when he says something stupid, hits him full force now.

“When was the last time you talked to her?” Sam asks. Sure Harry had had small conversations with you, mostly just catching up but they weren’t really conversations. They were awkward and uncomfortable messages. Wanting to know how the other is doing. Every ‘that’s good’ crying out, begging for more entertaining answers. Every ‘i miss you’ screaming for anything more than small talk. Every dry message towards the end of the conversation from both of you not wanting to say goodbye to the other for who knows how long. But it happens anyway. The two of you don’t talk for a while until one is reminded of the other, not that either of you had ever forgotten. The cycle repeats.

“A couple months, maybe. But we haven’t really talked since a few weeks after she left” Harry replies, clearly upset. His throat feels tight and his voice comes out frail. Sam gets it, nodding along. “It’s not that big of a deal though” Another lie, but this time Sam accepts it, not pestering his brother any longer.

A few days later Harry sits at the kitchen table stirring the last few pieces of cereal that he hasn’t eaten around in the milk in the bowl. Sams at Elysia’s, Toms filming, Paddy and his dad haven’t woken up yet. He thought that his mum hadn’t either until she walks in and a cheery “Good morning!” shakes Harry out of his thoughts.

“Good morning, mum” The room is silent for a while, nothing but the sounds from outside and Nikki making her tea until Harry speaks up again as his mum sits at the table next to him. “Hey, mum?”

“Yes?” She responds, taking a sip of her tea.

“I found some old photos the other day,” He starts, his mother listens closely, curious as to what’s got her normally boisterous son so quiet. “Photos of me and Y/N. Why’d you keep them?” He continues, looking up at her with glassy eyes before they dart back to the cereal bowl.

Nikki knew this day would come. A day when he’d see the old photos that she had saved. There was a whole album of just photos of the two of them. It was an important relationship and one day he’d see the album. Today was not that day, and that album was certainly not the one he’d seen. She knew it’d hurt him a lot to see the photos. The wound of you leaving unexpectedly was still not fully healed even though it’s been years. It may not ever be healed but time can only tell.

“Harry,” She places her hand on the table to pull his attention back to her. “It was an important relationship. You both impacted each other so much. The memories deserved to be kept” She goes back to her tea, sipping it quietly. Harry only nodded. He’s not going to tell her how in love with you he was. She wasn’t going to tell him she already knew.

The photos didn’t leave Harry’s mind. They were constantly there, at the forefront of his thoughts nearly all the time. Along with any memory that he could pull from deep within, of the two of you.

A lot of the memories were of others' speculation. The number of times that Harry had been asked by friends if they were dating, how much Tom and Sam had made fun of him for how close you were and yet you weren’t dating. Everyone’s shock when you started dating that one guy during high school. God Harry hated him. You had started spending more time with him and than Harry and it hurt. So much so that his chest would burn when he saw you two together. It felt like it was about to cave in or explode when you laughed at his jokes. Harry remembers how he had come up to him one May afternoon. Harry had been civil with the boy throughout your whole relationship. Never saying anything rude to him, despite how much he wanted to say, but also never actively trying to become better friends with him. He’d come up to Harry after class and said something about you and Harry and hoping he’s happy. But he’d spoken so fast that that’s all Harry could grasp onto before he’d walked away.

An hour later you’d called Harry in tears saying that you’d been broken up with. Harry was there for you, he’d come over with a box of Oreos, it was all he could get on the way to your house from school, but he’d be lying if he said that the heat and stretch in his chest hadn’t dissipated at the news. The longer he sat there watching the office with you, the more at ease he’d felt.

Tom had teased that Harry was in love with you. But he always said he wasn’t. You guys were just friends. Nothing more. You both just cared about each other. Harry wasn’t in love with you. Was he?

Harry hurries home to go back through the photos, analyzing them.

Halloween. The first one both of you were looking at the camera. The second one you were looking at the camera and he was looking at you. The third he was looking at you and you were looking at Nikki. The fourth you were looking at the camera again and Harry was looking at the candy. Typical, but not the point. Studying photos. You looking at a textbook, him looking at you. Your head in his lap, watching the telly, he’s looking at you again. His head in your lap and this time you’re looking at him. A soft smile on your face as your hands pull through his curls, he can almost feel it from just looking at the picture. It occurs to him why these photos are saved. Anyone who paid the slightest bit of attention could see that he loved you, or at least cared very deeply for you. Even just from the photos, he imagines it was more obvious seeing you in person or overhearing conversations. His mum knew. And she saved the memories.

Fuck Harry thinks. He misses you. A lot. So much. Maybe he’d text you. See how things were going. But then again if he has to go through another dry conversation like you’ve had since you moved then he thinks he might combust. He’d rather not talk that have to deal with those. Who knows how much you’ve moved on with your life since then. It’s been a long time. Harry’s changed a lot, he can only assume that you have as well.

The next few days were strange for Harry. He was never one to get hung up on small things but he couldn’t stop thinking about your relationship. Were you just friends? Were you more? What exactly did he feel for you? Did you feel the same? Did you feel more?

He’d spent so much time with you that he could recite facts about you like it was nothing. He knew your favourite colour, your favourite subject and how many tests you’d ever failed. That was hardly the beginning. He knew your favourite family member, why you hated your year eight English teacher, why you and Cindy stopped being friends in year six and why you refuse to eat twisty shaped pasta with anything other than tomato sauce. And yet he didn’t know if what he knew about your friendship was entirely true, or if there was more hidden under the covers that both of you felt but neither dared to touch.

He walked into the house, shutting the door behind him as he went through the photos on his camera, deleting the ones that were absolute no’s from this shoot. He’d go through the other ones later on his computer to edit them and see which turn out better. He wandered his way up to his room, not bother to take his eyes off of his camera screen. He’d barely made it halfway through the kitchen before a laugh caught his attention over the sound of Great British Bake Off coming from the living room.

At first, he thought it was Elysia and that maybe Sam had brought her over for an afternoon but he remembers Sam telling him that Elysia was spending time with her family further north for the weekend.

Harry stops in the archway between the living room and the kitchen. Harry doesn’t believe his eyes for a moment, causing him to nearly drop his camera and for another familiar and airy laugh to float into his ears from the couch.

You.

You’re there.

You’re actually there.

Sure you look a little different. Your hair has changed and you have spots on your cheeks and chin that weren’t there when you left. But it’s you. You sitting cross-legged on his couch for the first time in years. Sam taps your knee and says something to you. You nod and then Sam stands up, walking past Harry who still hasn’t moved from his spot in the archway. Sam nods his head in your direction as he passes Harry, urging him to go talk to you.

Harry slowly walks towards the couch, taking smaller steps than any normal person would have. You laugh again, a wide smile gracing your face until he sits down across from you, your knees barely touching. Harry’s silent for a while. A million thoughts running through his mind.

Is this real? Am i dreaming? I love you. Are you actually here? There’s no way you’re actually here. I love you. Just say something Harry. God, you’re an idiot. I love you. I love you. I’ve always loved you

Maybe he did know how he felt. It just took a little longer than he would’ve liked it too. Many years too long.

“Are you real?” Harry sputters out after much too long of silence. It makes you laugh causing your eyes to crinkle and for you to lean forward.

“Yes, Harry. I’m real. I’m here. This isn’t a dream” It’s like you could read his mind. He hopes that you didn’t catch the I love you part. Or maybe he did. He wasn’t sure.

“I’m sorry it’s just been a while” Harry stares down at where your knees touch. The small amount is driving him insane, even through both of your jeans. His knee was pressed against yours. You were there. He could touch you. He is touching you.

“I know, Harry. I’m sorry” You day with a sad smile. You place your hand on his thigh and Harry felt his heart speed up. He placed his hand on top of yours, curling his fingers around to hold it and you return it.

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t really have a choice” Silence settles over the two of you, for the first time in your life neither of you knows what to say but at least your together. Hand on hand on thigh and then lips on lips.

Harry wasn’t even aware that he was leaning in until your lips touched his. He pulled away almost instantly, about to spew apologies but your hand found his cheek and pulled him back towards you, lips moving against each other with years of closeted love and passion for the other. There was no turning back now. Soft lips against chapped ones, Harry let himself stop thinking for once, letting himself follow whatever felt right at the time until he was nearly out of breath and then a moment longer.

I love you.

Harry pulls away, lips red and swollen, cheeks matching in colour. You look about the same, your eyes slowly flutter open.

“Harry, I’ve loved you for a while. Since we were-”

“I love you too. I always have. I think. I’m not a hundred percent but I’m fairly certain” Harry blubbers his way through the words, making you laugh. God, he missed the sound of that. He missed the smile that went with it. Harry continues; “Certain enough to say that I did. Do. I do love you”

You don’t know how to reply. So you send him a smile before leaning in to peck his lips one more time which he returns.

“Are you staying in Kingston?” Harry asks when you pull back, your faces still only a couple inches apart. You nod and Harry lets go of your hand, instead, he wraps both arms around your torso and pulls you into him as he lies back on the couch with you on top of him. You laugh again, Harry was never tired of your laugh. He could hear it on repeat for the rest of his life and he’d never get bored of it. He presses his lips against your forehead as the two of you continue watching the telly, neither of you fully interested in the episode of Great British Bake Off that’s playing.

And when Nikki comes home and sees the two of you asleep, she finally decides to dig out that one album full of photos of the two of you.

[samotchkaficrecs]

Haikyuu!! Fic Recs #1

Hola! 

I have wanted to make this post for ages (and the reason this blog was created) and am really excited to share some of my favourite Haikyuu fics with everyone!

I will be putting a ‘★’ next to the ones that i highly recommend and love with my heart and soul.

Lets get started!

KageHina

In Transit - by Mysecretfanmoments

Hinata finds that he likes standing close to Kageyama on buses and trains. It doesn't mean anything--probably. Maybe. 

(complete)

baby, i can give you wings - by Metis_Ink

In which there are superpowers, cats, rainstorms, realizations, split-second jealousy, embarrassing volleyparents, killer whales, electric Kuroos, unstable emotions, bad romance movie mentions, some angst, some fluff, but mostly a lot of awkward high schoolers.

The minute Kageyama walks into the gym and sees Hinata hovering eight feet over the nets he knows he’s screwed.

(complete)

★ fake it, make it - by zadderlee

"Because Kageyama is already dating someone!"

"Really? Who?"

“Me!” Hinata shouts suddenly, grabbing Kageyama’s hand as an afterthought and grinning triumphantly, like he’s somehow missed the implications of what he’s just done. Kageyama is going to kill him.

(ongoing)

Oblivious To Love - by Karumasa

Yellow filled Hinata’s vision. The inside of his bag was stuffed full with bananas.

Hinata was terrified.

(complete)

DaiSuga

★ Fake Wedding March - by tsukkkiii (becauseitisbitter)

Minutes before Daichi is going to introduce his fiance to his parents, he gets dumped via text. So while he sits in front of his parents, trying to figure out what to say, an angel appears next to him.

or: Suga pretends to be Daichi's fiance to save his ass.

(complete)

forever is a long time but i wouldn't mind spending it with you - by  Interconnected_3 

“What else?” Daichi blinks. “What else is there? Do you want me to tell you how you like your coffee?” He grins teasingly. “I don’t know, how do I like my coffee? By the way, you’re missing something.” “Cream and two and a half sugars- wait, I’m missing something?” “Yup,” Suga says. “You forgot to mention that we’re dating.” “Well, god, Suga, judging from how we’ve been kissing and holding hands for three years and in this bed for the past nine hours since last night, I couldn’t possibly tell.”

in which daichi finally gets the day off and teaches a romantically-frustrated suga how to be honest with himself. extreme fluff

(complete)

★ Black and Blue - by MTrash (Makaria)

Daichi's new (temporary) neighbor is not only stunningly beautiful but also funny, friendly, with just a touch of mysterious.

Naturally, Daichi freaks the fuck out.

(AU where everyone lives in the same building and everyone is gay)

(complete)

i do (cherish you) - by gabstar

The first time Daichi suggests it, it’s a joke.

“Sugawara Koushi,” he says solemnly. He’s bent on one knee, the floor is still sticky with sweat post-practice. He offers up the lost ring, found while mopping off gym floors. “Will you marry me?”

((Five times Daichi asks Suga to marry him, plus once where he finally, finally says yes.))

(complete)

TsukkiYama

The Great Yamaguchi-Tsukishima Split (Capitalization Necessary) - by WyYeuw

"But no, the current situation isn’t normal. This situation requires the full attention of the team. No, what’s really concerning this time around, is that Yamaguchi is the one ignoring Tsukishima.” Yamaguchi confesses. Tsukishima fucks up—like, really fucks up. The volleyball club notices and loses a week’s worth of practice.

(complete)

★ Do you see what I see? - by superpapershark   

Three times Tsukishima wonders what colour Yamaguchi's eyes are, and the one time he finds out.

(complete)

★ Try This On For Size - by CloudMonsta 

A lot changed for Yamaguchi Tadashi over the course of high school. He started trying on dresses, for one.

(complete)

Blood - by darkbluebox 

Words like "Muggle-born" and "Pure-blood" don't mean a lot when you're still a child, but everyone has to grow up sooner or later.

(complete)

AsaNoya

Setting Aside Your Pride and Your Prejudice - by sugamama_crowshi

“Oh, Pride and Prejudice?” an unfamiliar voice asked. Noya was pulled from his search as the man before him spoke. He blinked up at him a few times. Then he stared. Nishinoya’s mouth was probably hanging open slightly. He couldn’t help it. Before him stood the single most gorgeous man Nishinoya Yuu had every laid eyes on.

Nishinoya Yuu experiences love at first sight at the library. Azumane Asahi is excited to think that another Japanese person has heard of Jane Austen. Through a series of lies and café meetups the two begin to learn more about each other. And fall for each other too.

(complete)

★ I’d Like You Anyway - by KuriKuri 

Yū believes in soulmates, but that doesn’t mean he believes in them.

(Or: An AU in which any permanent marking you get on your body - like a tattoo - also appears on your soulmate. And Yū gets a lot of tattoos.)

(complete)

★ come and take a walk on the wild side - by Authoress 

There’s a bloodcurdling scream of terror, and then Noya remembers that, right, there’s a new person moving into the apartment next to him. Oops.

(in which Noya is accidentally the Worst Neighbor Ever, Asahi loses twenty years of his life to stress, and Rolling Thunder is the star of the show.)

(complete)

Under the Radar - by lilien passe (lilienpasse)  

Two weeks after Asahi rejoins the team, Noya finds himself starting to slip during practice. Missed receives, floor burns, the whole nine yards. But when Tanaka points out the possible cause, Noya's hard-pressed to believe him. There's no way someone as dopey yet implausibly-competent as Asahi could be the cause of all his distress. After all, Noya doesn't worry about much beyond the court, and he certainly doesn't hold grudges. Right? (Semi-AU)

(complete)

KuroKen

★ Saltwater Room - by hipster-yams (madamedicelia)

Kenma had been perfectly happy just attending class half-asleep, secretly practicing cello, and occasionally getting his hand stuck in the vending machine but certain people refuse to let his quiet bliss go on and force him to think about everything he's been trying to hide away in the depths of his mind for years.

(complete)

★ Water and Brimstone - by  aetherdrive 

Kuroo and Kenma are assigned to go undercover as a result of Bokuto’s awkward attempt at playing matchmaker... but their simple case turns out to be a lot more dangerous than they expected.

(complete)

[A/N: this one is a sequel to another fic Crisis Converted (which is also amazing), i will also link the whole series which features BokuAka, KuroKen and IwaOi here]

Show A Little Faith - by minijhi

“Why are you sending me a singing Valentine telegram?" Kenma asks, mouth flattened. "It’s six months until Valentine’s Day.”

“I bought a dwarf over the summer to use as cupid.” Kuroo says. “I figured he could use some practice.”

-

Presenting Kenma as the Boy-Who-Lived, whose living becomes a lot more interesting when Ravenclaw Prince Kuroo Tetsurou starts sending him singing telegrams about defeating the Dark Lord.

(complete)

In The Dark Of The Night - by dgalerab  

The Tokyo training camp has to use an older sports center while their usual one is renovated. Kenma is used to paying attention to the minor details, and the minor details in this place don't seem very friendly.

(Or: Kenma notices an angry ghost before anyone else does, and it's not a very good thing for Kenma.)

(complete)

IwaOi

the truth is out there - by shizuoh  

"I work at NASA," Hajime said, setting down his coffee.

Oikawa immediately jumped up and slammed his palms against the table. "I'll suck your dick if you tell me about the aliens."

(complete)

★ love me like you do - by crossbelladonna  

Iwaizumi’s family line is cursed to die a year after they fall in love. Admittedly, he knows falling for his childhood friend may be a mistake. But he did and he passed and Death got what he wants that is until Oikawa makes a trade—his memories for Iwaizumi’s life.

(complete)

The PDA jar - by Poteto

“What is that thing for?”

“I’m glad you asked, captain. This… is the Public Display of Affection jar. Or PDA jar for short.”

“Now whenever you do something that may hurt our children’s innocence, you’ll have to put money in the jar as a punishment."

(complete)

★ equilibrium - by laconicGhost \

Hajime sighs, leaning against the stove as he turns to face Tooru, who’s still peeking up at him from under his arm. He purses his lips and ignores the heat in his cheeks as he rolls a stiff shoulder.

“What?”

Tooru hides his face when he realizes he’s been caught, laughing a little bit to cover up his embarrassment. “I’m happy, Iwa-chan,” he says cheerfully.

(complete)

Multi/Misc.

★ Sincerely Yours - by quinnlocke [Multi.]

Saturday detention isn’t normally a place you go in order to find the answers to your problems

It’s where you go when you’ve fucked up bad enough you have to lose an entire Saturday to make up for what you’ve done.

The Prince and The Criminal were caught cutting class. The Outsider cursed out his Shakespeare professor. The Jock and The Brain got into a fist fight.

And the Birthday Boy, he’s not even supposed to be here...

(complete)

★ call me maybe - by totooru [MatsuMaki]

Hanamaki texts the wrong number when trying to extort tips out of Oikawa in order to defeat Iwaizumi in arm wrestling, and then continues to text the witty stranger who had answered.

(complete)

[A/N: this fic is freakin’ hilarious] 

Love It If We Made It - by mangetsu_san [KyouHaba]

Yahaba locks himself up in his room after their loss to Karasuno, so Kyoutani decides to take him on a little adventure.

(complete)

Mixed Signals - by snoqualmie [KyouHaba]

Feelings are definitely a thing he’s having. Kyoutani is really sweet. He’s family oriented and he prefers novels with female leads and he’s in all honors classes. He kind of has a big head, totally has a big smile, definitely has a big heart. His eyes are nice, he’s got that dimple. Yahaba groans and rubs his fists into his eyes.

(complete)

The Lost & the Found - by AJ (anna_panda) [Multi]

"Being lost is worth the being found."

Hinata thinks he finally knows his way around the castle, Kenma knows he definitely doesn't and it's a miracle Iwaizumi hasn't thrown Oikawa off the Astronomy Tower yet. Just another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry.

(ongoing)

it's easier for you to let me go - by burritosong [YakuLev]

the one with the proposal

(complete)

1800-GET-REKT - by doggoneit [KuroTsukki]

“I see you like it Between the Sheets.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Your drink. It’s good stuff but I’m more of a Blowjob kinda guy.”

(complete)

★ Crumbling Foundations - by Captain_Hughes_ZU, ToshiChan [Gen]

Things like this didn't happen in Karasuno. It was just a school. Learning, making friends, taking exams and playing volleyball. Lots of volleyball. So it was really nothing out of the ordinary for the team to be in the gym on a simple Monday morning, training away. But two men walking into the gym with guns, one demanding to take his son? That wasn't ordinary, not at all...

(complete)

And that’s a wrap, i really enjoyed putting this together! Got a bit of nostalgia from when i first started getting into Haikyuu.

I hope you enjoy reading the fics i recommended, i still have heaps more so look out for a second part!

Anyways,

Au revoir!