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theflyingfeeling · 2 years

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24 and Joonas/Olli, huh?

Childhood friends-to-lovers with mutual pining! My time to shine!! 🍀

24. you always give me your four-leaf clovers (4160 words)

The first time Olli did it, Joonas wasn’t quite sure what it meant.

(In his defence, Joonas was seven years old at the time and not quite sure what a lot of things meant.)

“Isn’t it cool?” Olli had asked him, twirling the clover between his thumb and index finger. “My mom says they bring good luck.”

“You’re so lucky you found one!” Joonas marvelled at the small, green plant. “Imagine if you had had it yesterday when you fell on your bike.”

“Yeah,” Olli laughed and they both looked at the clover, as if it was a magic talisman or a secret treasure only they knew about.

“It’s super cool.” Joonas’ eyes were almost glistening as he observed the clover. He felt a twinge of jealousy, but only for half a second; his clumsy friend needed the good-luck charm far more than he did.

That was why he was stunned when Olli handed the clover to him.

“Do you want it?”

Joonas’ eyes abandoned the small plant and looked into Olli’s eyes instead.

“But…it’s yours!”

Olli shrugged. “I don’t need it.”

“Are you sure?” Joonas thought back to how his friend had cried helplessly on the ground just the day before, a bruise on his knee and a cone of ice cream upside down on the pavement after he had noticed a frost heave on the asphalt a little too late. Olli had still been sniffling when Joonas returned to him with bandaids, having biked home and back faster than he ever had in his life. Olli had loved the Spider-Man pattern on them, and the new ice cream Joonas had brought him from his mother’s freezer had Olli smiling once more.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Olli nodded and shoved the clover to Joonas. “I’ll keep the next one I find.”

But he didn’t, Joonas learned years later. Nor the one after that.

“Waaaaaaaah, what am I gonna do, Olli?” Joonas whined, rubbing his face. The sun was beaming at them from a cloudless sky as they lay on the grass behind their school, which only made his misery more drastic; the weather was perfect for practising tricks on his new skateboard or fishing by the river, not for worrying about his spring term grades.

“Mmpf,” Olli mumbled next to him. His legs were dangling in the air in an almost carefree way as he lay on his stomach, but the grim pout on his lips told Joonas otherwise.

“I don’t think you’re gonna flunk the whole grade just because of one failed exam, though,” Tommi, ever the voice of reason, offered his five cents. Joonas hated how rational his tall friend could sometimes be, even at the ripe age of thirteen.

“But I’m not gonna fail in just one exam, I’m gonna fail in maths!” Joonas exclaimed dramatically, throwing his arms above his head against the grass, almost whacking the back of Olli’s head as he did. “Aargh, mom’s gonna kill me, there’s no way she’s gonna let me go to Helsinki if I get a 4. I don’t want to come back to school in June, ugh!”

“You won’t fail, Joonas,” Olli then said, and Joonas turned his head to look at the boy.

“I don’t understand anything about polynomials, Olli. I will fail,” Joonas argued and shot a sullen glance at Tommi, who undoubtedly, although two years younger than him, knew all about the nomials.

“No, you won’t. I promise,” Olli instisted. Joonas could hear a hint of a smile in his voice.

“How could you possibly promise that?” Joonas grumbled, turning away from his friend again; he was convinced that whatever Olli said or did would be of little comfort to him in his current agony.

That was until he felt something fall on his chest – light as a feather, but still very much there.

A single four-leaf clover.

Just as Olli had promised, Joonas did not fail the exam, he did not need to return to school after the end of the semester, and his mother did let him go to Helsinki to spend two weeks with his cousins. It most likely wasn’t because of the clover, but Joonas carried it with him anyway for as long as it was still green.

The most memorable and obvious occurrence, one Joonas held close to his heart, had been when they had both still been in high school. Even years later, Joonas didn’t understand how on earth he had missed all the signs.

(Perhaps he had been too preoccupied with his own hopeless crush on Olli to see any farther than his own nose.)

They were spread on Joonas’ twin bed after school, the back of Olli’s head resting on Joonas’ tummy. Olli was absorbed in the textbook he was reading, Joonas in the silky smooth feeling of Olli’s hair as his fingers played with it absentmindedly.

It was a rainy Friday afternoon in May, and Olli was studying for the last exam week of the semester. Joonas, in turn, should have been preparing for the entrance exam he’d have on Monday.

And he maybe would have, had the softness of Olli’s hair and the weight of Olli’s head on his stomach not been the only earthly things Joonas could bring his mind to focus on at the time.

(Since everything else about Olli was completely stellar.)

“Are you nervous?” Olli suddenly asked him without moving his gaze from the book.

“About the exam?”

“No, about the evening news airing on time tonight,” Olli said dryly. “Yes, the exam.”

“Mmh. I don’t know,” he said, then took a deep breath to build up enough courage to spill out what he was about to confess. “I may not be going, actually.”

Olli set down his book. The hair in between Joonas’ fingers slipped away when Olli rose to lean on his elbow, facing Joonas with eyebrows crunched.

“What do you mean you’re not going?”

“I said ‘may’. But, like… I haven’t studied much because of the cold I had, and anyway I… Yeah, I don’t know.” With no fluffy tufts of hair to fondle, Joonas started braiding the strings of his hoodie instead.

“Well… what would you do then? A gap year?”

Joonas pouted and shrugged, avoiding Olli’s gaze.

“Maybe. Or just, like, see if the band thing works out.”

“And what if it doesn’t”?

“There’ll be new entrance exams,” Joonas said quietly and shifted his position on the bed; Olli’s query was starting to make him feel as uncomfortable as his mother’s questioning look the other night when they had been watching TV together and Joonas had, rather unthinkingly, agreed with a sigh similar to his mother’s that Jason Momoa was quite dreamy.

“I suppose…” At last Olli’s eyes drifted from Joonas’ face (thank heavens), and Joonas let his chest sink as he exhaled with the relief of Olli dropping the topic.

“It’s a tempting option, not gonna lie,” Olli said and ran his palm on Joonas’ bedcover. “I’m not smart enough for med school anyway, so why bother.”

“Hey! Don’t you dare use that tone of voice when speaking of my best friend! You’re smart enough for anything.”

“I’m not, Joonas, and you know that,” Olli insisted, a melancholic smile forming on his lips.

More than anything in the entire world, Joonas wanted to lean over and kiss it away.

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“It’s not a matter of opinion, it’s a fact. Now shut your mouth about it before I shut it for you.” Joonas felt his heartbeat quicken when he realised what he had said.

To his relief, Olli seemed to dismiss his slip of tongue with a short giggle and a roll of his eyes. However, Joonas’ heart did not get the rest it so needed when Olli lay his cheek back on Joonas’ upper body, a little further up this time, just at the lower part of Joonas’ rib cage, dangerously close to his poor, shivering ticker which had not been quite the same ever since Joonas had understood he had fallen for his oldest childhood friend.

(It had happened the previous autumn; Joonas couldn’t pinpoint when exactly, but he did remember the way Olli had looked lying next to him in the morning after Joonas’ 18th birthday, his lips just inches away from Joonas’, and for the first time he had wondered what it would be like to kiss them without the confidence boost alcohol usually gave him.)

“Whatever,” Olli sighed then. His fingers were scratching the fabric of Joonas’ hoodie slowly while nuzzling his cheek against it.

Joonas tried not to let himself enjoy their closeness too much; Olli had always been a cuddly creature, constantly sneaking into any of his friends’ immediate proximity for hugs and snuggles for no reason in particular.

That’s just the way he is, Joonas had to keep convincing himself whenever his imagination tried to tell him otherwise.

This time there was no need for that, though, as the tug he felt on one of the drawstrings of his hoodie brought him back to reality like a plane crashing down.

“I’ll shut up, but on one condition.”

Joonas raised his eyebrow. Something inside his chest tightened its grip.

“I want you to go to the entrance exam.”

“Aaargh!” Joonas groaned and threw his head back. His eyes fixed on the ceiling and focused on the ominous black spot which had been there right above his bed since they had moved in the house and which Joonas still always thought was a spider. The view became blurry, but somehow Joonas could fight back the tears that threatened to escape down his cheeks.

“Please, Joonas.”

“I told you, I have barely looked at the materials.”

“Just give it a shot. Please.”

When Joonas was somewhat positive his eyes would not give away his distressed state, he looked down at Olli again and saw a pair of dark eyes looking into his pleadingly.

“Fine. But you better go find me a four-leaf clover for it.”

Olli’s eyes largened in a wicked expression that took over the boy’s face whenever he could not believe his ears.

“Have you not seen the weather forecast? It’s gonna be pouring until Tuesday!”

“Your point being?” Joonas grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.

“If you think I’m going out there just to find you a four-leaf clover, you’re being delirious.”

“Oh, so you want me to do badly in the exam you’re forcing me to take? Some friend you are.” Joonas reached his hand to pinch Olli’s cheek, but just in time the other boy dodged his touch with a giggle. Joonas was prepared, however, and used his other hand to slide under Olli’s t-shirt and attack the ticklish skin below his armpit, and soon the room was filled with Olli’s loud laughter, a sound that Joonas had always adored, a melody he wished to hear every day, a song that felt like home.

“Okay, okay,” Olli said in between giggles. “Fine, I’ll get you your damn clover, if that’s what it takes. Wait here.” He was slightly out of breath and his hair was sticking up when he got off the bed, and Joonas had to suppress a longing sigh as he watched Olli straighten his shirt and fix his hair, his darkened eyes still gleaming with amusement.

Joonas’ gaze followed Olli who walked to Joonas’ desk covered with used coffee mugs, empty plastic bottles, candy wrappers and other junk “normal people usually keep in the rubbish bin”, as Joel had once grumbled when he had been over for a song-writing session. But before Joonas could point out Olli would not find any clovers there, the boy picked up something from the table and turned around, hiding whatever he had taken behind his back.

“Sit up and, umm, unbutton your shirt a little,” Olli said, his voice falling quiet towards the end. His eyes wandered around the room as he scratched his temple.

“W-why?” Joonas wanted to know, although his fingers were already touching the collar of his striped dress shirt, like some sort of instinct had guided them there.

“Just do it, Porko.”

With trembling fingers Joonas did as he was told, the symbol of good luck long forgotten when Olli climbed back on the bed and faced him, his expression having lost most of its earlier playfulness.

He felt Olli’s warm fingertips brush his chest when Olli moved away the piece of cloth to reveal more of Joonas’ skin. The touch, albeit faint and brief, took Joonas’ breath away so completely that he almost didn’t notice what Olli was holding in his right hand: a thin black marker.

“Stay still,” Olli whispered, and in the next moment Joonas felt the tip of the pen on his skin.

He felt Olli’s hair tickle his nose when his friend leaned in closer for a better view at his makeshift canvas.

He felt Olli’s calm breathing on his bare chest, and by god, Joonas could not have moved even if the fire brigade would have stormed in through his bedroom door, urging them outside to save themselves from the raging fire in the next room.

But the only fire in the house was the one he felt on his skin where Olli had touched when he finally leaned back, putting a cap on the marker again.

“There,” he said with a hoarse voice and ran a hand through his hair. “That ought to do the trick.”

Joonas tipped his head down to see what had been scribbled down on his chest, but from his angle he couldn’t quite make it out.

“What is it”?

“It’s a clover! With four whole-ass leaves, just like you requested.” Olli poked at his artwork with a finger. Joonas looked up to see Olli avert his eyes in turn, focusing on the pen he was still holding.

“Thanks. I can’t see it from there, though.”

Or hold it, or bring it to my lips, like I did with the one you brought me from your vacation in Australia during Christmas break.

“No, but there it’s close to your heart. I thought maybe it would be more effective,” Olli replied but didn’t look at Joonas while he spoke.

“Thanks,” Joonas repeated in a whisper. He held his mouth open, held his breath to say something more; what, neither of them ever found out, as in that exact moment Joonas’ mother called them for dinner.

Olli’s theory about the placement of the good luck token was proven wrong a few days later, but more than that, Joonas’ failed exam had been due to two days spent in lovesick agony instead of in study mode, his mind constantly wandering to Olli’s gentle fingers touching his chest and his dark eyelashes fluttering as he concentrated on drawing.

(Weeks later, the exam long gone and forgotten, Joonas could still make out the traces of the clover when he looked at himself in the mirror in the morning, and traced his finger over the shaky lines, careful not to smudge them away just yet.)

Olli had given Joonas a four-leaf clover the day before Joonas came out to his mother.

He had planned to do so one of those days anyway, but Olli’s gesture had been the final push, even if he hadn’t known Joonas had needed one.

“What did she say?” Olli asked him. They were sitting against the brick wall of Olli’s apartment building, the one he had moved into a week after he had turned eighteen.

“That she loves me and that she’s happy I told her,” Joonas shrugged. Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure what he had been so nervous about; his mother was the kind of person who, if Joonas knocked on her door at 3 AM with the police after him, would hide him in the basement and charm the officers away with no further questions asked about why he was being chased by the cops in the first place.

“She’s the coolest,” Olli smiled and nudged Joonas’ head with his own.

“I know,” Joonas agreed, a fond smile tugging at his own lips.

“Hey, umm,” Olli began and looked down at his phone, his thumb smoothening the crack on the screen, “how…how did you tell her?”

Joonas’ mind wandered back to the day before, when his mother and he had been cleaning the table after dinner.

“Mom?”

“Hmm?” his mother answered while loading the dishwasher.

“Remember that one time we were watching Game of Thrones and you said Jason Momoa was handsome and I agreed?”

His mother closed the dishwasher door and straightened her back, appearing to be thinking for a while.

“Yes, I believe I do.”

“Yeah, that was because I’m gay.”

His mother smiled and reached her hands towards Joonas.

“Come here, baby boy.”

“I just… told her,” Joonas shrugged. He didn’t care to go into too much detail.

“Uh-huh,” Olli said quietly beside him. He kept staring at the broken screen of his phone, his eyes becoming sort of glassy, Joonas noticed.

“Why?”

You can tell me, Olli.

Please, tell me.

He saw Olli’s chest inflate and then sink again, and then he heard a quiet voice speak:

“‘Cause… I could use some tips, I guess.”

When Olli finally looked up at him, his eyes were watery and his upper front teeth were (barely) keeping his lower lip still.

“Oh, Olli,” Joonas tilted his head and reached his hand to dry Olli’s cheek.

Olli didn’t sob or sniffle as he hid his face on Joonas shoulder, but Joonas felt the fabric of his shirt dampen on the spot he had laid his head.

“You’ll get there,” he whispered in Olli’s ear. “I promise you will.”

After a while he felt Olli relax against him and a hand sliding on his palm, interlacing their fingers.

“Have you told your dad yet?” Olli’s voice was soft and quiet, but Joonas would have heard it from a mile away, he was sure of it.

“That prick? I guess I could text him,” Joonas grumbled, not in the mood to think about the man that had left his and his mother’s lives years ago because he had suddenly changed his mind about wanting to be a loving husband and a supportive father.

(Now he was a loving husband and a supporting father to some other people in another city, and Joonas was only a little bitter about it.)

Nevertheless, he was happy to feel Olli’s body shake with silent laughter.

“Should I find you a clover for the occasion?”

Joonas wrapped his arms around Olli tighter.

“Oh, please do. Better safe than sorry, eh?”

Joonas leaned against his car and closed his eyes. The sun was hotter than it had been so far that spring, and he wanted to bathe in its every ray before he would close himself in the small, dark room where their band practice was to take place. A Sunday evening was an unusual time for them to be running through tour rehearsals, but he supposed it had something to do with Joel and Aleksi travelling to Berlin for promotional affairs the next day and Niko wanting to take his girlfriend on a vacation before the tour would start, so he had agreed to meet the others at 5 pm.

He suspected nothing when he entered the room to find no one else but their bassist sitting on the sofa, strumming on Joonas’ acoustic guitar he had forgotten there earlier that week.

“Hey,” Olli looked up when he noticed Joonas.

“Hi. The others are not here yet?” Joonas asked, despite the fact he could well see the others were very much not there yet.

“They…are not coming, actually,” Olli said and set the guitar carefully on the sofa.

“Oh? I thought we were gonna run through the set once more.”

The serious look on Olli’s beautiful face gave him the chills.

“Has something happened?”

“No! I mean… Well, yeah. Kinda. NOT the way you’re probably thinking, though. The others are fine.”

Olli’s blabbering only confused Joonas more.

“Where are they, then?”

“I don’t know. At home, probably?”

“But…why are they not here? You told me we have practice today!”

“Well, we don’t!” Olli was standing up now, furrowing his brows as he combed his hair with his hand.

“Then what are we here for?”

It was either the world’s most boring and poorly executed prank, or Olli had not been in his right mind when he had texted Joonas in the morning, ordering him to attend band practice late in the afternoon.

“Oh, god, you are thick…” he heard Olli mutter under his breath, rolling his eyes. “We’re here because I’m trying to tell you something.”

“You couldn’t have texted it?” Joonas glanced longingly at the birch trees swaying in the wind in front of the only window in the room.

“Not really.”

“Well, spill it, then? I don’t know about you but I’m sort of keen on going for a beer before they close the deck terrace.”

Olli sighed and picked up Joonas’ guitar again.

“Here,” he said and pushed it towards Joonas.

Joonas looked at the guitar, then at Olli.

“Huh?”

Olli inhaled and exhaled shakily.

“Look inside.”

Joonas shot another sceptical look at Olli before taking the six-string from his hands. Then he peeped in through the sound hole. At first he couldn’t see anything at all, but when he was about to put the instrument down, he saw something sweep past the hole. He then lifted the guitar close to his face again and gave it a shake, and finally he saw what was hidden inside it.

Dozens of four-leaf clovers, in varying sizes and shades of green.

“Olli, what is this?”

Olli looked defeated as he shook his head.

“What do you think it is, Joonas?”

He heard Olli sigh quietly as they stared at each other.

…Oh.

“Olli–”

“I… I didn’t know how else to tell you.”

“Olli–”

“And I’m not expecting you to feel the same, I’m not expecting anything from you, just so you know.”

“Olli–”

“So we can just forget about this, you know, if that’s what you want. I don’t know how to get those out of there, though, sorry for ruining your guitar, I guess.”

“Olli!”

“What?!”

Joonas didn’t tell him ‘what’.

He didn’t have the words at that moment.

Instead, he kissed him.

He placed his hands on Olli’s neck, where they had wandered so many times before on the pretext of the silliest things, and pressed his lips on Olli’s and just held him there, afraid to move or breathe or think, afraid it might all be just another one of his hopeless daydreams in which he built up the courage and snogged Olli’s stupid face in the middle of a gig.

When they finally did break apart, Joonas felt lightheaded, like he was about to pass out from the intoxicating chemical reactions blowing up his brain. Olli, on the other hand, breathed heavily against his mouth and placed a hand on Joonas’ chest, right where he had painted a scrubby four-leaf clover when they had been just clueless teenagers.

The drawing had faded long ago, but the imprint had stayed in Joonas’ heart all these years.

Joonas pressed his nose on the top of Olli’s head. His lips moved against his hair as he spoke.

“Where did you even find that many four-leafs?”

Olli chuckled and nuzzled Joonas’ shoulder.

“It took me the whole spring to find even a handful.”

Joonas closed his eyes, picturing Olli at the task, sweeping through freshly-grown grass for four-leaf clovers.

“And there might be a few regular clovers. I wasn’t so picky towards the end.”

“Cheater!” Joonas smiled and planted a kiss on Olli’s temple when the man giggled. “Trying to woo me with deception and lies!”

“But it worked, did it not?”

“Yes,” Joonas admitted, “although a simple ‘I love you’ would have worked just the same.”

Olli lifted his head off Joonas shoulder and looked at him, his eyes wandering back and forth between Joonas’ eyes and his mouth.

“Is it too late to try that now?”

Joonas shook his head. “Never.”

“Good. Because I love you, Joonas. A lot.”

The delighted sound that escaped Olli’s mouth when Joonas booped his nose with his was enough to add at least twenty years to Joonas’ life.

“I love you too. I love you like crazy.”

Joonas had had many kinds of tattoos drawn all over his body, but he had sworn to himself that he would never get a tattoo in honour of a lover; tattoos might have been forever, but love? Who knows.

And yet, on their first official anniversary, on a hot afternoon in May, Joonas and Olli stepped out of a tattoo parlour hand in hand with fresh, matching tattoos representing four-leaf clovers: Olli on the inside of his wrist, Joonas over his heart.

#blind channel #blind channel rpf #blind channel fanfiction #spring fluff by theflyingfeeling #sorry i accidentally posted this without the read more first D:#hopefully it didn't clog anyone's dash lol sorry sorry sorry #it's looooooong but i hope it'll be worth your time 🥺#i hope this one won't get buried by the all the esc posts that'll soon fill everyone's dash 😅#(like the one i posted on tuesday 😔)#but i'm too impatient to wait until tomorrow lol #i should probably post these on ao3 too but i'm laaaaazyyyyy

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feliix · 3 years

Text

Perfect Score ↠ Han Jisung

↠ Jisung x Reader (feat. Felix)

↠ Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Fake Dating!AU, Childhood Friends to Lovers

↠ Rating: M (18+)

↠ Word Count: 14.9k

↠ Summary: As you return home to work at your local coffee shop, you’re swarmed with couples coming in on lovey-dovey on dates. You’ve always hated the idea of love, but it’s Jisung’s mission to make you change your mind in just two weeks time.

↠ Warnings: idiots 2 lovers, mutual pining, unprotected sex, fingering, soft sex, language, light mentions of marking, mentions of bad past relationships

“That's disgusting.”

You grimace in the most subtle way as you watch the man across the shop press a gentle kiss on the cheek of the woman next to him. For some reason your shop is packed with couples this evening. Not that you’ve been counting, but they’re probably the 50th overly lovey-dovey pair that you’ve seen this just this shift alone.

To say ‘love’ isn’t really your thing isn’t too far from the truth. Every time you’ve been burned by someone in the past has only made your hope about love deteriorate. Relationships suck. Already been there, done that, and you don’t plan on doing it again.

You’ve always stuck by the same theory; relationships either lead to heartbreak or marriage. And even still, marriage may still end in heartbreak, so what’s the point?

“Stop being so dramatic,” Jisung laughs, pulling you out of your thoughts as he rounds the corner. He’s just in time to catch your snide remark, surely it won’t be the last one you’ll make tonight though. He had just run to the back to get you a fresh package of cups after using up all the stock in the front.

Tonight is busy to say the least. The sun has already set, and it’s the afternoon rush when everyone comes in for their second daily dose of caffeine. And it’s definitely necessary – especially on a day as hot and exhausting as this one. It’s the third day that its been over 100º in a row and the humidity is doing a real number to your hair.

“It’s not dramatic,” you sigh, leaning on the counter behind you as Jisung maneuvers around you, placing the cups on the shelf underneath. In your mind it absolutely isnt. Its a mystery why all these people need to publicly display their affection in a coffee shop anyway...

It’s just the two of you on the schedule tonight. Your boss has always been kind of an asshole, just leaving 2 kids in their early twenties to run the shop by themselves while he went off to do god knows what. There's always been an aching suspicion that he just goes to the bar across the street, since his car is still parked behind the shop but he’s always nowhere to be found. That’s okay though, it's better than him looming over your shoulder and criticizing your technique the whole shift.

“Yeah, whatever you say,” Jisung shakes his head.

In stark contrast to yourself, Han Jisung is quite the hopeless romantic. So much so that he tends to search for love in all the wrong places. Maybe a better way to describe it is that Jisung has a series of flings. He’s not shy to test the waters of any girl he comes across – and there are many, many waters that he’s tested. Lucky you gets to hear all about each one, being his friend and all.

But to your good friend’s demise, his ‘relationships’ never end up working out for very long. Theres always some kind of fatal flaw that’s a means to an end. Whether it was Jisung’s fault or the girls, it’s always confused you why he could never hold onto something longer than a couple months. Jisung is a great guy, it didn’t make sense.

So great that you have been best friends with him for as long as you could remember. It all started that time in pre-k, where you poured a shovel of sand on his head in the sandbox. Initially, it did make him cry, but he got over it eventually. Ever since, he’s been right by your side, sandy hair and all.

“How much longer,” your eyes roll back in your head, neglecting to look at the watch on your wrist in fear that your shift has a significant amount of time left. The night has been dragging on since you stepped foot in the door and heard the little jingle as it opened. You wouldn’t be surprised if you’d only made it through half your shift thus far.

“Just under an hour. Want to start the closing checklist so we can get outta here?” Jisung offers, reaching for the rag and sanitation bucket at the end of the counter.

Nodding your head, you follow his plan – beginning your mission to clean like a speed demon so you can leave no later than at 8 o’clock on the dot.

Luckily, closing tonight goes as smoothly as it possibly can. You and Jisung are ready to get out of there at 8 on the dot, thanks to your determination to mop like a mad woman and stock the front as fast as humanly possible.

The air outside feels crisper than usual. Maybe its because you’ve been locked up in a small room that smells like coffee beans for 10 hours, but you’ll never get enough of the night air.

“So what are we doing tonight?”Jisung asks, his fingers adjusting the headband that sits just above his forehead.

“I was planning on going home and getting some rest…” you trail off, avoiding eye contact with him. Jisung always goes out after your weekend shifts and never lets up on convincing you to tag along. So you can’t look at him, his eyes are much too convincing make contact with, and you are beyond exhausted from working a double today.

“Gah you’re so boring,” he teases, stopping in his tracks in the center of the parking lot to ruffle the hair on top of your head, “it was an early night we should do something.”

With a deep sigh, you stop as well, smoothing down your hair as a pout forms on your lips. The suggestive smirk settling across Jisung’s face is telling; he knows he’s about to get his way before you have the chance to turn him down or fish for another excuse. So you tilt your head, subtly rolling your eyes as you wait for him to explain what his big plans for tonight are.

“I’ll be at your house by 9.”

Accepting defeat, you shoot him a thumbs up before turning to get into your car. Asking any more questions would take away any time you had to wash up – and smelling like coffee beans any longer is going to drive you up a wall since it hasn't already.

It doesn’t take much time for you to rush home and get ready, and before you know it Jisung is there to pick you up. Only a few minutes late, but that’s just par for the course and right on time in Jisung terms.

The car ride to your destination feels like a blur with how exhausted you are. So when you end up at your favorite boba spot, you immediately perk up. Those tapioca pearls always manage to give you a second wind.

But when Jisung decides to take a seat at one of the round tables just outside the shop instead of getting back in the car you know somethings up. You were expecting to hop back in the passenger seat of his car, maybe listen to some music for a while and drive around to kill time.

Initially he doesn’t say much. His legs just bounce hyperactively while he fidgits with the straw of his drink. It’s almost like he’s waiting for you to speak up; his eyes staring down at the cup in front of him instead of sipping from it, lip caught between his teeth.

The energy is off. Not only did you expect to hang out and do something adventurous like Jisung normally would, but now you’re watching his cheeks grow red while avoiding conversation.

Awkward silence becoming too much to bear, you take matters into your own hands. “So how are things going with that girl?”

“Oh yeah,” he sighs, his fingertips drumming along the surface of the table, “she didn’t really work out.”

Unsurprised by his response, you just nod along. Its always to expect since he’s the pickiest person you’ve ever met. His last relationship ended because he thought the girl breathed too loudly. The girl before that had an annoying laugh, and then the one before that didn’t like cheesecake. There always seems to be a laundry list of deal-breakers tied along to each one of Jisung’s relationships, and that is something you’ll always expect.

“You’re probably better off.”

You don’t think much of the words before they leave your lips. Relationships are a ton of work, and you’ve never understood the point of to putting all your effort into something like that. There is a way to just be happy on your own, you know.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” his eyebrows furrowing in response, hands gripping his thighs in anticipation

“You know what I think,” you tilt your heat matter-of-factly, “relationships are kind of just a waste of time.”

“What is with you and all this ‘anti-love’ stuff anyway, Y/N?”

Now thats a response that you are not prepared for. The question catches you off guard, a boba bubble almost catching in your throat leaving you a coughing mess. Jisung chuckles at your discomfort, waiting patiently for you to get it all out and just answer his question, as uncomfortable as it is.

“I’ve wasted too much time with too many dead-beat guys to even think about love,” you sigh again, your coughing fit subsiding as you reach for your cup once again.

“Not every guy is a dead-beat.”

His words carry a harsh bite to them, almost as if he finds you’ve said offensive. It burns his ego a bit, assuming that you’re grouping him in with all the guys you’ve been with in the past. Which is strange, Jisung should know that he’s different. For one, you’ve never dated him before and two, if he was such a dead-beat you wouldn’t have kept him around for so long.

You aren’t able to talk to guys, or most people for that matter, in the same way that you talk to Jisung. He’s the one you rant about all the assholes to. He knows all the shit that you don’t tell anyone else, he’s like your own personal human diary. Secrets are always safe with him, it's not like he has anyone who would listen to the gossip even if he wanted to tell.

After a minute of silence his expression changes, Jisung’s eyes squinting at you in that ‘I have a crazy idea’ type of way. It’s a look that you haven’t seen very often, and you can’t say that you’ll ever get used to it.

“Okay then I’ll make you a deal,” he proposes, a glimmering look in his eye that made you somewhat nervous. You never know what you are getting with Jisung, but most of the time his ‘deals’ are on the crazier side.

“What is it?” You still ask although you’re a bit nervous to hear his answer. If his plan is to set you up with one of his delinquent friends or something–

“Be my girlfriend.”

Your eyes widen as the words fall from his tongue, confusion taking over your expression as a small chuckle slips past his lips. Instinctively your stomach tightens, the air around you now feeling a bit heaver each second time ticks on. He can't be serious…

“Your what?”

“Two weeks is all I’m asking for. Be my girlfriend for just two weeks, and I’ll show you that love isn’t as shitty as you think it is.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me” you shake your head, a disbelieving smile stretching wide across your face.

“C’mon Y/N,” he challenges, “it’s two weeks of your life, what else do you have to do? I think it could be fun.”

The quirk of his eyebrow and quick squint of his eyes grabs your attention. He’s serious about this, scarily serious, and you aren’t quite sure how to react to that.

“What’s in it for you?” Your chin falls into your palm as you stare at him, waiting for his response.

“Well for one,” he starts, a sigh leaving his lips, “if it works then I won’t have to listen to you complain about how much relationships suck anymore.”

Just when you don't think you can roll your eyes any further into the back of your head, your own actions surprise you. If looks could kill, the one you’re giving him right now would surely take him out. He doesn’t pay much mind to it though, he’s used to your sass and just shrugs it off.

“This is an awful idea,” you glare at him as if it will change his mind. You’re certain this experiment of his would not change your own. Love sucked, and that was that.

“Two weeks,” his voice carries a taunting tone, his eyebrows wiggling to entice you into his plan. He isn’t going to give up on this easily, you know Jisung. And Jisung always gets his way.

“Fine,” you huff, “two weeks and that’s it. And if my mind isn’t changed you owe me 3 more of these,” you say, picking up your boba from the table and shaking it at eye-level for emphasis.

His bottom lip catches between his teeth, satisfied with your response. He isn’t exactly sure how he’ll manage to pull this off, but he’s definitely up for the challenge.

“We start tomorrow at 8, I’ll pick you up after work.”

Crossing your arms over the table, you bury your head in your arms. This is going to be the most interesting two weeks of your entire life.

“Wait, you're like dating dating the Han Jisung?” Felix’s jaw drops, excitement prevalent on his face as you spill about your night with Jisung.

Felix is the only person in your life that understood your hatred for relationships, other than Jisung of course. Not that he shares the hatred himself, he’s just heard enough about how much you despise being in one to know just how you felt. He’s only heard about it every day for the past several summers.

Felix is your best friend, other than Jisung of course. He’s also the only person in this world that you could bear to work with on a Saturday morning.

“That's the plan,” you sigh fiddling with the containers on the counter. It’s pretty slow for a Saturday morning, only a handful of customers have come in so far and it's already 11 am.

That’s the thing about working at a coffee shop – and it sucks when it's busy, and it sucks even more when it's slow. At least it isn't a terrible job, you at least have Jisung and Felix to keep you company and that's always worthwhile.

“And for the record,” you turn to look at Felix, a grin still evident on his face, “I don’t think this is gonna change my mind about the love stuff.”

“You know how Jisung is,” his eyebrow lifts, “so you never know. Maybe something could happen.”

If anyone was surprised that you were dating someone, fake relationship or not, it would be Felix. On top of that, you’re dating Han Jisung. As in, the same Jisung that ended a 3-month relationship last year because the girl ‘smelled too much like peaches’ and it was ‘too good to be true.’ And now that you’re the one stuck with him for the next 14 days, it is only a matter of time until he finds the deal-breaking trait that turns him away from you.

“Okay no, that's exactly why this is only two weeks. If I know Jisung, he’ll be over it before the 2 weeks even ends.”

“Whatever you say,” the pitch of his voice is raised teasingly. You can tell he doesn’t believe this will be just a ‘two-week thing’ by the funny little look on his face. You hate that look, and you hate how Felix always seems to be right.

Subsequently Felix sees a lot of things that you aren’t able to see for yourself. You’ve grown up with Jisung, grown accustomed to his unique mannerisms and behaviors without even noticing. Felix, on the other hand, has a different point of view.

He’s not in it like you are, so gets to see the way Jisung looks at you; the way he hangs on each and every word that leaves your mouth with a sparkle in his eye. He notices that Jisung longs to make you laugh. And he watches the toothy grin each that grows on your face each time a chuckle breaks through your lips. Felix notices every behavior that you see as nothing more than ‘friendly.’ But who is he to say? So, for now, the information remains tucked away and stored in his mind for a later date.

Your fingers drum on the clean marble countertop beside you, leaning against it as you wait for a customer to come in. All this time with nothing to do is really doing wonders for your imagination; thinking about what Jisung has planned for the two of you to do tonight. Nothing special, you hope, he really doesn’t need to go all out for this.

The lack of customers and silence that's fallen among the shop is just making it easier for your mind to wander off. It was beginning to make you sick how much you were thinking about Jisung and nothing has even happened yet. It's not like you have any reason to be nervous, but keeping all these thoughts trapped in your thick skull is starting to give you a headache

“He’s picking me up after work.” You blurt it out without thinking much about it. No one is here, you might as well lay it all out there for Felix to know since there's nothing better to do.

“He’s picking you up? Like you’re going on a date?”

“Shut upppp,” your eyes roll at his teasing nature, growing slightly embarrassed by how giddy the thought of this ‘date’ is making him, and you for that matter. It’s just Jisung. And you are just hanging out like you do every other night. There's nothing different about tonight and you’ll be able to prove that to yourself and Felix by the next time you see him.

The rest of you shift flies by – it always does when you work with Felix. Before you know it, the closing checklist is coming to an end, only a few steps left before you can finally get out of here. The clock had just turned to 7:55 pm, but Jisung still isn’t here. Not that you’re expecting him to be on time or anything, this is still the same Jisung you have always known.

What you aren’t familiar with is the nervous butterflies fluttering around in your tummy as the clock approaches 8 pm. What are you even nervous about? It isn’t a blind date, other than the fact that you have no idea what you’re doing. And it isn’t even a date. It’s Jisung for crying out loud.

Speaking of the devil, the chimes in the front of the shop ring as Jisung passes through the doorway. You don’t see who it is at first, your back turns to the door as you sweep behind the counter. The chimes ringing at this time of night do trigger your fight or flight instincts though, ready to turn to whoever is approaching and give them a dirty look for coming in this close to closing time.

But once you turn around and see Jisung standing in the doorway with a bouquet of sunflowers, your tension quickly subsides. You swear that you can feel your heart skip a beat, heat rising to your cheeks as you try your hardest to form a coherent sentence. It's okay that you aren’t able to, though, the surprised look on your face is enough for his smile to light up the room.

“I’m here to pick up the pretty girl with the espresso stain on her shirt,” he chuckles, his bottom lip catching between his teeth nervously.

Tonight he’s dressed a lot nicer than usual comfy attire; a nice shirt with a pair of dark jeans that hug his slim figure. His hair is a lot lighter too – a vast change from the midnight black strands that normally frame his face. He’s really going all out for this thing – and right now all that you’re wearing a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt with coffee stains down the front.

When you look to your right, Felix is just as stunned as you are. Frozen in his spot as his jaw practically sweeps the floor, he looks at you with wide eyes, his eyebrows raised as a smug expression crosses his face. For a second you contemplate asking him if he’s all set to finish the closing checklist on his own, but before you’re able to speak up he’s already shooing the two of you out the door.

With a goofy grin displayed across his face, Jisung hands you the bundle of flowers, tied together with a delicate white ribbon. You mumble a thank you, still stunned that he showed up here looking like that to take you out tonight. So he is the romantic type, note taken.

“You like nice,” you gulp nervously. It already feels like a date and you haven’t even left the parking lot yet. If this is how things are going to start you had an exciting 13 more days ahead of you...

“So do you,” he smirks, his eyes wandering down to the small brown stains littering your shirt. Eyes narrowing, you read the expression crossing his face – of course, he’s joking. “I brought you some fresh clothes to change into don’t worry.”

Relief rushes through your body as the words leave his lips, followed by a slight pull on your heart strings. Knowing he took the time to think about bringing you something else to wear so you didn’t have to sit in your coffee scented clothes all night made you feel warm in the strangest way. He’s thoughtful, and it's weirding you out – but in a good way.

“So, where are we even going?”

“You’ll see.”

A vague yet interesting, and very on-brand response from Jisung. He’s always been a fan of surprises – as long as he’s not on the receiving end.

The drive to your destination drags on forever. You aren’t quite sure how long you’ve been on your way; between your agile back seat changing of clothes, which you are surprisingly skilled at, and the anticipation coursing through your veins, you’ve lost track of time. All you know is that you’ve been driving along the backroads of your area for at least 15 minutes, and there is nothing around you to indicate that your destination is near.

“This is it.” The car pulls into a small dirt parking lot, dimly lit by some dingy street lights that aren’t doing a very good job at their primary function. It's pretty hard to see what’s around you, no matter how hard you squint and press your forehead to the window to get a better look.

“Where are we?” The question leaves your lips in a worried fashion. Trees surround the parking lot on all three-sides, while the road you've pulled in from occupies the fourth-side. You’re hesitant to get out of the car, but as Jisung rounds the front and opens the door for you, you’re on your way out. He motions for you to hold on as he pops the trunk – returning with a blanket and a reusable shopping bag filled with god knows what.

He still hasn’t given an answer to your question though, and you still aren’t quite sure where you are. If It was lighter out you assume it would be beautiful here, all the greenery dark and shadows hovering over you from the trees.

The bright light from his cell phone flashlight lights up the way, a path on your right

“Hell no,” your arms cross over your chest as you stand still in your place. He’s out of his mind if he thinks you’re going into the woods this late at night. You’ve seen enough horror films, stuff like this never ends well.

“C’mon, it’s not as bad as it looks,” Jisung laughs at your pouting manner, amusement filling his system as you glue your feet to the ground of the parking lot. His puppy dog eyes plead for you to follow him, a hand outreaching in your direction for the taking. You contemplate it for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you ponder the possible outcomes of the situation before you.

“Fine,” you huff as you take his hand in yours.

His hand feels different in yours this time. His long fingers lacing between your smaller ones in the perfect fit that you’ve neglected to notice before. You’ve held his hand before, platonically though. This time it’s platonic too though, right? It’s just a date. A platonic date between two friends. Two friends who are dating on a two week trial period. So yes, it is strictly platonic. Right?

The dirt path doesn’t drag on for too long, but the sounds of bugs ticking and twigs breaking beneath your feet is enough to startle you. Every scared and breathy gasp that leaves your mouth is followed by a small fit of laughter from Jisung. At least one of you is amused.

But the dirt path soon turns rocky, a clearing becoming more and more noticeable as Jisung’s flashlight brightens the way ahead of you. The rows of trees come to an end as the ground flattens, a giant slab of rock lying beneath your feet. Out ahead of you is completely dark, and until you approach the darkness you don’t notice that you’re just a few yards away from the edge of a cliff. A river lies below the edge, the sound of water rushing fills your ears and calms your nerves. It is quiet out here, peaceful and without distraction.

Jisung stands back as you admire the scenery around you – your own phone flashlight now out and panning around to look at the view. It’s beautiful out here, nothing to worry about but the sounds of the water and whatever Jisung is doing behind you…

You couldn’t have zoned out for more than 2 minutes, but once you turn back around to face him a picnic blanket lies on the ground before you. Snacks scatter the extent of the fabric, a few candles placed in the center

“You really went all out for this, huh?” A nervous laugh leaves your lips before you swallow harshly. Never in your life has a guy ever gone all out like this for you. A late-night picnic at a secret location, fixed with all of your favorite snacks and some candles for ambiance.

“Had to,” he smiles, “it’s our first date.”

You join him on the blanket, grabbing for a bag of popcorn as you sit down. Maybe relationships wouldn’t suck so much if all men treated you like this…

But it’s just Jisung. Jisung who already knows all your favorite things to eat. He’s just trying to be convincing – to prove to you that men take you on dates, do nice things. But stuff like this never lasts. Two weeks from now you’ll be going back to the same old Jisung and Y/N friendship that you’ve always had.

The conversation goes on as normal tonight, he doesn’t make any moves (as expected, it’s Jisung) and you enjoy the view and calm atmosphere with your fake but not so fake boyfriend. You stay out on the cliff for a few more hours before he takes you home. Jisung put a lot of effort into making tonight special, and you appreciate him for that. But even after all his effort, you know that real relationships aren’t like this.

Every guy you’ve dated would try to woo you over in the beginning too. They call it the honeymoon stage for a reason. Things are always great in the beginning, lavish gifts and dates, loving gestures. That kind of thing never lasts. Soon the effort runs out, the guy gets bored of putting the work in, and they end up sleeping with your freshman year roommate. Well, at least that's how it is for you.

The bundle of sunflowers Jisung gave to you earlier on in the night sits on the end table next to your bed. Each time you look at them all you can picture is the goofy grin he sported as he stood at the entrance of the coffee shop. It replays in your mind like a movie. How he dressed up all spiffy just to take you out. How he took you to a spot only he knew about, somewhere so off-site and serene that he knew you’d remain uninterrupted. You can’t help but wonder if he’s using the same old tricks on you that he does to other girls though. If he only knew about that place because he’s taken someone there before.

Not that it matters though, you aren’t his real girlfriend. You’re just on a trial period. But for some reason the thought that he might have brought another girl to the same spot before doesn’t sit well with you.

“Sooooo,” Felix teases, letting his chin fall into his palm as he leans on the counter before him, “how was your date with Y/N?”

Jisung chuckles at his nosiness, he’s sure you’ve already told Felix all about it. There are no secrets left between you two. Even sometimes Jisung felt like the odd man out when you’re all together.

“It was good.”

Jisung keeps his answer short, leaving the rest up to his imagination. He isn’t one to kiss and tell – or to not kiss and tell. Keeping his private life all to himself is something he takes pride in, things are just better that way.

“Just good?” Felix challenges, knowing there is much more that he’s leaving out. His eyes narrow as he waits for his response. You haven’t told him anything about last night, not even where you went after he picked you up. Things are radio silent on your end, which left Felix dying to know what actually happened on your ‘date that wasn't a real date.’

Jisung glances back at him, contemplating whether or not he should spill the beans. It would be kind of nice to have someone else to confide in. Especially since it's always you on the receiving end of his secrets; however, this may be the one secret that you don’t know of.

He chews on his bottom lip pensively, if anyone knows what’s on your mind, it would be Felix. Not that Jisung would ever want to pry, there's just no indication of how you feel about last night, or about him. Before Jisung can even open his mouth to speak, a knowing smirk is spread wide across Felix’s face. It’s that kind of look that makes him nervous – he knows something.

“You like her don’t you,” he muses, rubbing his hands together smooths as the words catch in the air. It’s out there now – and it’s obvious. Well, maybe not obvious, but it's clear as day to Felix – and that is more than enough to make Jisung worry.

“I don’t,” Jisung denies the other boy’s claim, his willpower too strong to give in.

“Oh yeah? So why do you self sabotage every one of your relationships then?”

The words catch Jisung off guard; his jaw clenching harshly as an annoyed breath is forced out of his nostrils. He wants to deny the claim once again, but he can’t bring himself to keep brushing off these feelings that have had a grip on him ever since he was young.

Felix is right too. He does sabotage each relationship that comes his way. Jisung goes out of his way to find something wrong with each girl he dates. He can never admit it to himself, but in the back of his mind, he knows that it's the fact that none of those girls are you. None of the girls he’s ever met could ever match up to all that you are. In his mind, you held the perfect score, and no one else had ever come close.

“It’s written all over your face every time you look at her you know.”

There's no way he’s that obvious... Did his feelings show that much whenever he was around you?

“What do you mean?” Jisung clarifies, the small once of hope bearing weight in his chest that Felix will follow up with a ‘just kidding’ or change the subject. Only the silence that falls on the room is enough of a response for Jisung to get the clue.

“Just please don’t tell her,” he avoids eye contact with the other boy, hand gripping harshly on the countertop as he stares down at the black and white checkered tile. “I just wanted to see if I could change her mind – about the love stuff, you know?”

The second you find out about Jisung’s feelings all bets would be off. There’s no way you’d let your little arrangement continue, not if either of you could end up hurt. And he knows you only agreed to this because there is nothing between you romantically, it was a deal between two friends. The second feelings get involved, everything gets all mushy and confusing, and Jisung can’t lose you.

Felix bears his weight on the counter behind him, leaning comfortably on the cool glass. “Believe me, I want her to be done with that ‘I hate love thing’ just as much as you do,” he sighs, looking around momentarily before he clears his throat. “Want me to be honest?”

“Please.”

“I think you might be the only one who can change her mind.”

Jisung’s heart skips a beat once the words leave Felix’s mouth. Blood rushes to his ears, pumping like a snare drum as he considers his thoughts. His stomach begins to twist as he considers it, almost confused about what Felix means, but not willing to accept it. You only agreed to fake-date him, you still hate love.

A comfortable silence fills the air, Felix watching him as his lips roll between his teeth, deep in thought. Change your mind. The words repeat in Jisungs head like a broken record. That’s what he’s trying to do, all for the right reasons of course. So that you don’t have to be so miserable about it anymore.

But behind those selfless reasons are several smaller, selfish ones. He gets to be with you as more than a friend now, and although it’s nothing more than some kind of test run, he can’t help but feel like this can be something more too. It’d be crazy to ignore the feeling he has deep in his chest, and maybe it's a sign not to.

“Like you think…” Jisung gulps, clearing his throat as the words stutter out of his mouth, “I could get her to fall for me?”

The lack of response that Felix gives is ominous, but the raise of his eyebrows and toothy grin forming on his face needs no words to tell.

If anyone is to change your mind, it’ll be Jisung.

That night Jisung took you to the drive-in movies. To be quite honest, you couldn’t really recall what was playing, some Pixar film with bugs as the main character if you could remember it correctly. You were far too distracted laughing with Jisung, watching as young kids played around on a grassy patch near his car. The giggles that left his lips each time the little girl waved to him were music to your ears. You never noticed how much he loved kids, how good he was with them.

The image of his hands clasped together as he fawned over the little girl, picking dandelions in the grass and racing to place them by your feet was burned into your memory. The boxy grin that graced his face all night long. The way his eyes squinted from his cheeks, pushing up as he smiled so big. The whispers of the word ‘cute’ each time her pigtails bounced while she toddled away.

Missing the movie doesn't disappoint you. If anything, the memories you've saved from tonight are more than enough.

The next night you were unable to go out, the shop was so busy that you were not able to leave until an hour and a half after your shift was supposed to end. Some punk kid dropped a cup of iced coffee on the floor on his way out and decided it would be best to leave it there without cleaning anything up or letting you know. Maybe if it hadn’t been so busy then you would have noticed the spill before it dried up and there were coffee stains stuck to the tile floors.

Naturally, you spent a good 15 minutes trying to mop up all the stickiness on the floor. But to your luck, Jisung is working with you that night. Once all the customers left the shop he hooked his phone up to the speakers, grabbed your hands, and danced you around the shop. Well, it was supposed to be dancing but it probably looked more like Jisung swinging your arms as you attempted to not trip over your own feet.

It makes up for not getting to go out though, and you’d take a night like that over a fancy dinner any chance you got.

It’s been 12 days since you became Jisung‘s girlfriend, and as the remaining days decreased, so did your hatred for love. Each night he planned something special. The real kicker was the texts that you get once he makes it home from dropping you off every night. A simple ‘I had a great time tonight’ was enough to make your heart swell and heat rise to your cheeks.

And as you notice your hatred for love and relationships leaving you, you notice another feeling enter your system. Or several feelings…

Things are getting just as sticky as the night when two frappuccinos splattered all over the shop floor, whipped cream and all. Spending time with Jisung like this is bringing some things to the surface you didn’t know were buried in the first place.

Every night that you spent with Jisung over the past 12 days allowed you to see him in a new light. You got to see him on a different level than just friends. You got to see what every girl that fawns over Jisung experiences.

Something about your friendship never let you jump past that barrier. You only see him as a dear friend of yours. Nothing more and nothing less. And now the issue is that...you aren’t sure how you’ll ever go back to see him as such.

You like Jisung as more than a friend, that's for sure. And you know because of that things will never be able to go back to the way they once were.

Maybe you're reading too much into it, but your gut is telling you that you aren't the only one feeling this way.

The feeling of butterflies that pound in your stomach each time you meet eyes with him has to be reciprocated. There is just no way you can be feeling this way and he isn’t.

This isn’t like the feelings you’ve caught for any guy before, this is something else. Every night when you go home you lay in bed, staring at your ceiling with a dumb grin on your face as you think about your time together, about him. About the way his black curly hair falls in front of his eyes each time he looks down and how his smile lights up every room he was in.

These things that you were so blind to before can’t escape your thoughts, and it makes you wonder how many times or things you’ve looked over that make you melt, just like you are right now.

But in just 2 days, this trial-boyfriend period will be over, and you’ll have to go back to being just friends. Each day, each hour, each minute that approaches feels heavier and heavier. Anxiety floods your system each time you think about things being over, or that this arrangement you have isn’t even real.

When you think about the growing feelings you have for him, you honestly can't imagine what your life will be like any other way. What it would be like going back to just hanging out here and there. And what it would be like

You can’t even fathom thinking about what it would be like hearing him talk about another girl again. It makes you sick thinking that there's going to be someone after you, because in just 5 days this will be all over, and you’ll go back to being the girl best friend, nothing more.

Maybe it’s just wishful thinking that Jisung has more feelings for you too. But the glimmer in his eyes as his bangs brush out of his eyes and they land on you tells a different story. When he looks at you it feels like you are the only two people on earth. He sees nothing else but you, and the way your eyes sparkle back at him.

Each day you spend with Jisung after that feels like a wrench tightening the screws of your heart. 14 days is just not enough.

“Earth to Y/N,” Felix says waving a hand in your face.

You must have zoned out, for god knows how long.

“Thinking about Jisung?”

“What?” you immediately straighten your posture and brush yourself off before responding, “N-no…I’m just thinking.”

“Right,” the sarcasm drips from his lips, not sparing you any time to save yourself as he turns away, beginning to wipe off the tables in the front.

For personal reasons, you’ve kept Felix out of the loop during this whole “fake-boyfriend Jisung” thing. It’s better if you keep your feelings to yourself until you figure them out. And although it feels really really strange not giving Felix the intel on what’s going on in your life, you know it’s for your own good.

Once you put what is in your head out into the world, you can’t take it back. And what if all these things that you’re feeling is just a part of the honeymoon-phase. If that even existed anyway… But if all these feelings for Jisung are due to him trying to woo you and change your mind, everything will just fade away as things return back to normal. And then you’ll be left loving him in silence while you watch him blow through relationships like a leaf blows through the wind.

Something in you tells you that this isn't the case, but the small shadow of doubt in the back of your mind keeps you from talking to your best friend about it anyway.

The thing is, you don't have to tell Felix for him to know. Every time Jisung picks you up from work to take you out you shine. Your smile spreads so wide he’s afraid your cheeks will tear. The nervous shake of your fingers as you grab for your belongings as you head out the door doesn’t go unnoticed in Felix’s eyes. He knows you too well to look over things like this, he just wanted to wait for you to say something first.

But now that you aren’t, Felix has decided to take matters into his own hands, asking you about it himself.

“Felix,” you start, waiting for his attention before you pull out a stool, sitting down and motioning for him to follow suit. Quickly he does, a questioning but knowing look evident on his face as the stool squeaks under him. “You know how this thing between Jisung and I is just an experiment or whatever?”

He nods in response, his hand quickly falling into his palm as he listens intently to your words.

“I think I messed up.” Your head is buried in your arms, laid over the tabletop in embarrassment.

“What do you mean?”

His question is more for clarification, he wants to hear you say it yourself. Felix knows that you’re gonna tell him that you’ve already caught feelings. He sees it coming from a mile away, you confirming it is just the icing on the cake.

“Don’t make me say it,” you whine, neglecting to pick your head up and look at him. You can feel the grin on his face. You know he's smirking at you right now, doing his best to hold back a laugh. Finally, you over the ‘I hate love and relationships suck’ thing.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” he sings, quite obviously teasing you while another deep sigh echoes from your chest. You manage to pick your head up, leaning onto your elbows with your chin caught between your palms as you face him.

“I like him.”

It comes out as a whisper, but Felix hears it loud and clear. If you didn’t know better, you’d assume that the smile on his face can't grow any larger, but it does. He jumps up from his chair in victory, doing a funny dance with his arms whooping in the air to celebrate. You’re confused as to why, but you’re too far in your own thoughts to pay it any mind; your head just sinks back into your arms as your forehead presses against the cold metal table beneath you.

“I knew it,” Felix smiles, his happy dance subsiding as he positions himself back down across from you. “I knew this fake dating thing was gonna work.

“Yeah well it really worked, because now I have feelings for a guy that’s never gonna reciprocate them for me.” Your tone is laced with sarcasm, a disappointing ring sounding off on each of your words. You’re too embarrassed to look at the boy sitting before you, worried that if you do all the emotions you’ve been holding onto for so long will spill over and stain your stone-cold image; one you’ve maintained for far too long.

But Felix is your best friend. The only one that you should be comfortable being vulnerable about your feelings for Jisung with; for some reason all you can’t bring yourself to be. Before you can get a grip on your emotions tears are streaming down your face and falling onto the cold metal surface under you in small puddles.

A sympathetic sigh leaves Felix’s lips as he tries to gain your attention, “Hey.”

Inhaling deeply, you face him – mascara strewn across your face in black streaks and eyes nearly bloodshot. You’ve held this in for far too long. Only a double would tire you out and exhaust you enough to cry on the clock. Thank god it’s a rainy day, no customers ever come in on rainy days.

Or at least, no customers usually come in on rainy days. It's not until you hear the bells on the front door ring that you’re wiping your eyes, whipping around to greet whoever was entering.

And then you see him, standing there as he shakes out his umbrella, a bouquet of sunflowers in his hand.

And he sees you; mascara running down your face and tears staining your cheeks. He’s early. Your stomach turns at the sight of him, emotions not stable enough to handle carry a normal conversation like

“Y/N,” his voice is quiet, worry dripping in his tone as your name leaves his lips. But you can’t face him right now, not like this.

Your feet move faster than you mind, standing up and rushing to the back to avoid him. Jisung doesn’t follow you, just stands there and watches you walk away, solemn and worried that he’s done something.

It’s not until Felix is rising from his seat and pacing over to him that he’s brought back to reality.

“Jisung...” he starts, hands coming up slowly to console him, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here right now.”

“Wh-what’s wrong?” His lip worries between his teeth, eyes glossy as he stares at the door you just closed behind you. He’s looking at it intently, mind flooding with worry, wishing so badly that the door will just fly open, and you’ll tell him what was going on. In the back of his mind, he knows that you won’t, at least not for now. Talking about emotions has never been your strong suit, and chances of that changing at this moment are at an all-time low.

Felix is unsure how to answer him, caught in between not wanting to lie and keeping your feelings private. He can’t speak for you; but he’s scared that saying nothing could just make this whole situation worse.

His mouth gapes as he searches for a response to his question, lips opening and closing while he hums to himself.

The umbrella hanging from Jisung’s hand drops with a crash, starling Felix as he jumps at the sudden sound. But before he is even able to speak, the bell to the front door is ringing again, and Jisung is walking away into the pouring rain.

The next day you wake up feeling numb. You’ve received several texts from Jisung the night before, none of which you have the energy to reply to or even look at for that matter.

The guilt riddling your body has become too much for you to handle. You left work last night without even saying goodbye to Felix. He’s a good enough friend and coworker to know that what you’re going through is more important than working the counter at an coffee shop.

After Jisung left, Felix came back and let you know; he almost had to break down the door to the backroom in order for you to let him in. He told you to go home, get some rest and that you’d talk tomorrow.

But after waking up the last thing you want to do is talk about Jisung, it hurts enough just thinking about him.

Every time you thought about how your arrangement was supposed to end in just a few days you felt sick. You have worked so hard to open up just to build your walls back up again. And now you’re back at square one.

When you agreed to be Jisung’s girlfriend you did not expect to fall for him like this. He’s Jisung for god’s sake. He’s your personal diary, he’s the one who knows all the shit that nobody else does. And he’s the only one that listens to all the dumb shit you have to say that no one else cares about.

Feelings ruin everything. Love sucks, and you knew this before you agreed. You agreed under the circumstances that Jisung could show you that relationships could be fun; not under the circumstances that he would make you fall in love with him,

And the more that you think about it, maybe you were always in love with him. Maybe you always had these feelings for him, but they were trapped in the tight bonds of friendship that your subconscious never let you out.

But none of that even mattered now. The deal had to be off, and you need to distance yourself from Jisung before you are hurt any worse. The longer this goes on the worse that you are going to feel when it's all over.

How are you supposed to go back to normal after this? Like is Jisung thinking that showing you how amazing relationships are, you won't fall for him or something? Or does his true plan consist of making you fall in love with him, just to string you along like every other girl he's dated?

You’re trapped in the never-ending spiraling thoughts, soiling your image of Jisung with each new theory that crosses your mind. None of them are good. All of them paint him as a player, as someone who just used you.

But the little thump in your heart when you notice the sunflowers placed on your bedside table wants your mind to change. Your heart wants you to believe that Jisung feels something too, that throughout this arrangement he has seen a different side to you too – that he’s fallen for you just like you have for him.

It's a knock at your door that guides you out of your thoughts. The repetitive tapping at your front door that drags you out of bed. And when you check your peephole and it's no one else, but your small blonde best friend standing on your doorstep that has relief rushing through your system.

The door cracks open, Felix standing there with an umbrella in his hand – even though it was nearly 100º with clear skies.

“Why are you still in your pajamas? It's noon.”

Suddenly, he pushes past you and invites himself into to your living room. Plopping down on your couch, Felix makes himself comfortable as he waits for you to join. You spin on your heels, an exhausted breath leaving your mouth as you pace over to him, plopping down on the next cushion over.

“Why the umbrella?” Your brow furrows as he hands it over. You take it though, still confused behind the meaning of the object that you're holding and where it came from.

“It’s Jisung’s.”

You nearly drop it as his name leaves his lips. The name causes your stomach to tighten, mouth-drying instantly as emotions well behind your eyes.

“Why?” Is all you can mutter out. Why was he giving it to you, why is he here, and why did he have it?

“You need to bring it back to him.” He says sternly, his eyes locked on you as he waits for you to look back at him. But you’re too focused on the umbrella placed gently in your hands, tracing your finger over every wire and the soft rubber handle.

“I can’t.” Your words come out in a whisper, breath light and airy as you sigh, sinking your body back into the couch cushions. Giving the umbrella back to Jisung will mean that you have to go see him. And if you see him, he’s going to want to talk to you about last night, then question you about why you haven’t been returning his texts. No. You will not be giving Jisung his umbrella back.

“Y/N,” your name leaves his mouth gently, a sigh following it before he reaches for you, rubbing your arm comfortingly before continuing, “I think you need to talk to him.”

“Felix you know I can’t do that.”

You’re serious in your words. Not that you don’t want to talk to Jisung. You most definitely want to – and if you could, you would. But you can’t. There are too many emotions involved. The wound is fresh and seeing him would be rubbing salt right into it.

“Y/N,” he sighs, this time more forceful, like he’s trying to get something across to you but it's going right over your head. “Talk to him. Please.”

“You know I’m going to end up hurt if I do.” Tears well in your eyes as the words croak from your throat. It's dry and scratchy, full of fear and anxiety.

“I think you’d be surprised,” he mumbles, his eyes instantly widening on realizing the words that just escaped. Eyes wide with confusion, you’re begging him to go on, but if he does then Jisung won’t be the only one in deep shit right now. It's not up to Felix to tell you what he knows this time.

“What do you mean I’ll be surprised?”

“I have to go,” he stands instantly, motioning to the umbrella, “and you need to bring this back.”

With a slight ruffle to your hair, Felix is giving you a supporting smile and waving goodbye. And you’re left alone once again – just you and Jisung’s blue umbrella.

It takes a lot of courage to get ready today. You make sure to take your sweet time rummaging through your closet, flipping through articles of clothing for the better half of an hour. At the end, you opt to go with a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. There isn't enough energy in your body to put on anything else, and you know you’ll just want to curl back up in bed once you get home. Sweatpants are safe, and safe is just what you need.

No makeup today either. If things are anything like you’re expecting, your makeup will just end up ruined anyway. It's your better judgment to shower though, you’ve neglected to take one after work last night; opting to just bury yourself under your covers as soon as you got back. But today is a new day. And with a fresh shower and your comfiest pair of sweatpants, you are about as ready as you’ll ever be to get your heart broken into a billion pieces.

Umbrella in hand, you step out onto your front steps, relishing in your last few moments of ignorant bliss before making your way to Jisung’s. You immediately regret your wardrobe decision as the sun beats down on your frame, the humidity making you feel sticky and gross – your favorite pants are no match for this heat.

But you’re on your way to your destination anyway, the drive feeling longer and more drawn out than normal. Jisung didn’t live that far away from you, but the ride there still felt like an eternity with each theoretical scenario passing your mind.

Dragging your feet, you make your way to the front steps of his house. You’ve been here a million times, but today is different. From now on, every time you drive past this place all you’ll know is heartache.

You brush yourself off, taking a deep breath before bringing your hand up and pushing the doorbell. The sudden ringing sound startles you, even though you have every indication that it’s coming – you’re just too nervous and jumpy for your own good.

Footsteps approach the door, your stomach tightening more and more with the muffled pitter-patter of footsteps. You’re praying to God that it’s his mom, hoping that Jisung just so happens to be out – even though his car is in plain sight parked just a few meters away from you. Wishful thinking, you suppose.

When the door to his house opens, you struggle to maintain your composure. He’s dressed similarly to you; a pair of sweats and an old sports t-shirt that has definitely seen better days.

“Hi.”

His eyes are sunken in, dark circles dragging underneath his eyes and his lips pulled downwards. He looks like a sad puppy, his dark hair all scruffy and sticking up in each direction – probably from him running his hands through it so many times.

“I came to give you this,” you extend the umbrella out before you. He nods before taking hold of it, his hand far at the opposite end making sure not to keep his distance. The more you look at him, the more sorry you feel for dodging his texts. He looks like he hasn’t slept a wink, and you’re afraid it’s all because of you.

“Oh...uh, thanks,” he struggles to make eye contact with you, looking down at the object in his hand.

It’s awkward, uncomfortable, and you can’t seem to find the words to say to break this strange tension between the two of you. He’s acting weird, shifting his weight back and forth but not moving away to close the door. His mind is racing once again – contemplating whether or not to just invite you in or leave it at that.

But with every aching bone in his body, he musters up the courage to lift his head, looking you directly in the eyes. Their dark like his, definitely from the lack of sleep you had the night before. Your mouth is turned downward too; hands fiddling together to try and distract yourself.

“D-Do you wanna come in?” He stutters, stepping aside slowly as he gestures towards his house. He suddenly worries when you don’t respond right away, taking a second to contemplate if this is a good idea or not. Ripping off the band-aid is never easy, but it needs to be done.

“Sure,” is the word that you decide on – hoping that it doesn’t make you seem disinterested or too desperate to talk. Maybe he’s just being kind though. Maybe it’s an empty offer, something that you say when you’re trying to be nice, but subconsciously hope that they won’t take you up on it. Like when you offer to share your food with someone, but you’re really hungry. You do it to be nice, not because you actually want to split the delicious looking burger and fries on your plate.

He leads you inside and to his bedroom. It looks the same as always, but it feels different. It still smells like him though, the comforting woodsy scent of pine and mahogany that he always reaches for. But that comforting scent is anything but comfortable. You’re frozen in place, unsure if you should sit on his bed and make yourself at home, much like every other time in the past. For now you just stand in the doorframe, waiting for him to tell you to take a seat, just like any polite guest would. A guest. You have never felt like a guest in his home before, or around Jisung in general. But that imaginary wall between the two of you is standing tall and sturdy, and suddenly the two of you are reverted back to being strangers.

You watch as he toys with something on his desk, his fingers dancing from object to object and sifting through papers to look busy. The point of it – unknown to you but to him, he’s buying time. Trying to think of the first thing to say, what to ask, or if you even wanted to talk. Maybe you only agreed to come inside to be nice. Maybe you were too worried about hurting his feelings if you said no. But alas, here you are, standing awkwardly in his doorway as he shuffles around his room, his brain flooding with thoughts – but his mouth can not form them into audible words.

“I’m sorry for ignoring your texts.”

Your voice catches his attention, dropping whatever paper he’s looking at now and turning his gaze to you. You’re sunken into yourself, your chest thumping with anxiety as his eyes begin to wander your frame. Not in a ‘I’m checking you out’ manner though; more of a ‘you look so sad and I don’t know what to say to you right now’ kind of way.

It’s true though, he doesn’t know what to say – which is why he’s staring at you, hoping the right words would just pop up and he didn’t have to use any brain-power at all. He doesn’t want to say ‘it's okay,’ because it's not. You never ignore his texts, and that alone tells him enough about what's going on. You are upset at him.

“What did I do wrong, Y/N?”

His words sound accusatory but his tone is soft, gentle and full of worry. Eyes swollen and looking like they are about to fill to the brim with tears, his sight is focused on you; now not able to look away.

“I-I don’t know…”

Your answer is honest. You don’t know if his intentions are dirty. Yeah, that’s what you thought initially, but looking at him with such hurt written all over his face tells a different story.

Jisung is silent, unsure of what more he can do or say to make you talk to him. He can’t force you to open up, he never has and he never will – that’s always been his rule. Everything you’ve shared with him has been on your own terms and conditions. Jisung has always been here to be your listening ear, but he never prys.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

His voice is soft, eyes full of sympathy as he holds himself together. Those were the words he has been looking for. Now the ball is in your court and you’ll have to be the one leading the conversation. It’s just what he needed to figure this shit out.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Y/N,” he sighs as he drops himself down onto the mattress, “I shouldn’t have to say this for you to know it, but you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

You do know that. You really, really do. But this time things are different. Is he expecting you to just come out and speak your truth like there won’t be consequences? No, he won’t push you to tell him anything you don’t want to. But the worry in his eyes and clammy hands are begging for you to just let it out so he can stop being in the dark.

You sigh out an ‘okay’ before sitting down beside him.

Rip the band-aid off Y/N. Quick and painless.

His eyes narrow, almost to a squint, staring right through you in hopes of reading your thoughts. Your expression is nothing but blank as you try your best to gain some sort of composure. Do you just speak up and spill your guts? The words replay in your mind over and over until your thoughts are beat down and misshapen.

You can picture his face when you say it; disgusted with a trace of disappointment and some confusion spread into the mix. Or maybe he’ll laugh at how pathetic you were, catching feelings for your fake boyfriend.

That’s it. There’s no way you can tell him. It would be much easier to just get up and leave. Tell him to pretend like none of this ever happened and that you needed some time to cool off. A few months maybe, or maybe you could just ghost him entirely.

“Y/N?”

The sound of his voice breaks you out of your toxic thoughts, and his chocolate brown eyes bring you back down to earth. You can’t just leave him in the dust. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that exists. Things will be okay, right?

“Sorry, sorry,” you exhale deeply as you calm your thoughts; shifting the nasty scenarios out and accepting that whatever happens after this conversation is your fate.

“Jisung, I-I guess I wasn’t expecting this boyfriend-girlfriend thing we’re doing to go like this.”

His brow quirks at your words, confusion riddling his expression as his eyes narrow. With a tilt of his head, he’s pushing you to continue, visibly riddled with your choice of words.

“Swear you’ll be honest when I ask you this?” You question him, your hand moving closer to his as you lean in slightly. He’s like a magnet, you can’t help yourself from moving closer; even though the proximity of the two of you is clouding your thoughts and you can feel your heart beginning to swell.

He nods in response to your question, his eyes full of concern as he waits for you to continue, “Why did you ask me to do this thing?”

He knows that a question like this was coming, only if he could have prepared for it. But he didn’t, so his throat is left dry and scratchy as his mouth opens, only to stutter a bit before closing it back up. No coherent thoughts or words are able to escape his lips, just nonsense mumbling that caught himself off guard.

With a deep breath, he closes his eyes, regaining his composure before he can face you again. He agreed to be honest, and if honesty is what you want, honesty is that you’ll get.

“I’m sorry.” That’s all that he can say.

Oh no. This is exactly what you were expecting before you came here. He’s gonna tell you that he didn’t mean to mess with your emotions, that he felt you catching feelings and got carried away. That he’s sorry that he ruined your friendship and played you like a violin all at once.

“Me too.”

You don’t know why you’re apologizing, but you are. It feels wrong. Absolutely utterly, and undoubtedly wrong. Apologizing for your own feelings is not something that you are okay with. Especially when he made you fall for him like this. Okay so maybe thinking that is giving him too much power, but who the hell takes you out on dates for nearly 2 weeks straight just to laugh about it later. How can he expect you to not catch feelings for him? With his deep voice and fluffy hair that always hangs in front of his eyes, that little giggle he has when he finds something amusing. Everything about him was attractive. And you’ve fallen for it all. Hard.

“Wait, why are you sorry?”

A scoff escapes your mouth unintentionally, but it’s well deserved. “For being the idiot to fall for a guy that was playing her, I guess.”

You can’t look at him any longer, so your eyes fall to your lap, staring at your chipped nail polish and dirty fingernails instead of reading whatever dumb expression he has now. But if you just took a second to look up, you’d notice the widening of his eyes, how his fingers are beginning to shake and his mouth gape.

“Wh-What?”

“Don’t make me say it again Jisung, I don’t feel like sounding stupid one more time.”

“No no I heard you, it's just,” his eyes slam shut, angry at himself that he let things get this far without keeping you in the loop.

You’ve been telling him that you hate love for years now. After hearing it so many times, he’d just given up on the thought of you. Maybe if he said something before you went through all those shitty guys things could have been different. But he’s let this go on for far too long, and now you’re the one that was paying the price.

“Y/N I have feelings for you.”

Your neck nearly breaks with how fast your head snaps up. He’s the one looking away now, his cheeks a bit rosy as he tries to hide himself. He isn’t doing a very good job though, his hair is only shadowing his eyes and you can clearly see the way he’s nervously chewing on his lip; a cute habit you have grown fond of these past couple of weeks.

If he didn’t look like he does right now, you’d assume he was messing around. But you know Jisung. You know his small little gestures and what they mean by now. You know when he’s being serious and when he’s telling a lie. He can look someone dead in the eye and lie to them, but when he tells the truth, he becomes shy and worried that he’s said the wrong thing.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask softly, gently reaching for his hand. The subtle contact makes him flinch, reacting by pulling your hand away. But his eyes meet your sympathetic ones, sparkling just like they always do, and he knows what he wants.

Jisung’s hand reaches back for yours, lacing his fingers through yours before giving your hand a light squeeze. “You hate relationships,” he chuckles lightly, the mood of the room instantly shifting as the laughter leaves his lips.

“I hated the ones that weren’t with you,” you correct him, but your voice comes across as just a whisper. He’s close enough to hear though, a blushing grin forming on his face as you shyly look away. His heart flutters when he hears it, a million butterflies erupting in his tummy all at once.

“I hated the ones that weren’t with you too,” he coos, his eyes wide and sparkling as he looks at you with such adoration.

Time moves in slow motion as his hand meets your cheek, your eyes look deeply into his chocolate ones as he moves in closer. As your eyelids flutter shut his tongue runs across his bottom lip, wetting the surface before closing the distance between you. Finally.

And in that moment you’re at peace. Everything you thought you’ve ever hated, love, relationships, and maybe Jisung for a hot second, are the only things that you long for. The 14 days don’t have to be over, and your days no longer have to be counted. When you’re with Jisung you’re happy, you’re comfortable, and you're confident that he can give you what you have always deserved – but have never gotten.

His lips move against yours in slow, languid motions, his large hands holding you close like he’s holding on for dear life. But you won’t leave even if you want to, not now, not after all this.

Slowly, Jisung shifts his weight and you move in succession. He’s laying you down on his bed, gently climbing over you without breaking the kiss. Things are becoming more heated now, you can feel it as his hungry lips devour your own. Your chest heaves up to meet his, your back arching off the mattress as his hands begin to scour your body. The heat pooling in between your legs is growing, an aching sensation overwhelming your core as your own hands reach up to rake through his long, fluffy hair. And you can tell he wants you too, the thin fabric of his sweatpants doing little to conceal the growing erection pressing against your thigh.

You can’t help but let out a steep moan as his hips begin to grind into yours. Needy groans fall past his lips and onto yours as you roll your hips upwards to meet his small ruts.

In a leisurely motion, Jisung’s body is moving upwards, his knee finding a place between your legs as he brings himself up to a kneeling position. You chase his lips the entire way there, sitting up straight to be sure the contact doesn’t vanish, too consumed by your need for him to leave his lips.

And then his needy hands are running along the waistband of your sweats, fiddling with the tie before breaking your heated kiss. “Is this okay?” His words come out in a whisper, his eyes searching yours for any signs of doubt, but all he sees is lust.

“Yes,” you confirm, out of breath from making-out for so long without coming up for air. The lightheaded feeling taking over you goes unnoticed though, and quite frankly you’re too caught up in Jisung to care.

Quickly, he rids you of your pants, looking back up at you for confirmation about your underwear. With an affirmative nod he’s removing those too, leaving you completely bare from the waist down as he stands over you fully clothed.

But soon he’s ridding himself of his own clothing, his shirt being pulled at the nape of his neck as he discards it across the room. He’s leaning back down to you, hungry for the feeling of your lips. He misses it, even though it's been less than a minute since he’s last felt your smooth lips on his.

You won’t open your eyes to see, but with the shuffling movements and shaky connection between your mouths you can tell Jisung is stripping himself of any remaining clothing he has on. He’s needy, unable to wait any longer to get down to business, he’s already waited long enough.

You’re the one who breaks the kiss this time, too curious to see what he’s sporting down below for your own good. But you are not disappointed once you see it – he’s long and girthy; the pigment a shade or two darker from his skin tone than the rest of his body. Your thoughts are wandering, wondering what it's like to have him inside of you; dreaming about what he feels like. Arousal pools at your core, mouth salivating as your daydreams linger.

“Like what you see?” Jisung chuckles. You barely notice that you’ve been staring, eyes wide and focused on the hardened dick before you, which is probably a bit uncomfortable for him.

“Sorry!” You cringe at yourself lightly, covering your eyes in embarrassment in fear that you just ruined the mood you’ve worked too hard to create.

“Don’t apologise,” he smiles as he grabs your wrists, moving them away from your round eyes. Scrunching your nose in displeasure, you catch your lip in between your teeth, mentally face palming at how weird you’re being.

He couldn’t blame you though, it was taking everything in him not to gawk at you. It was the first time you’ve seen eachother naked. Bathing suits did little for your imagination, not that you had even thought about Jisung this way before.

But he eases your nerves by coming down face level with you, reaching for your shirt and pulling it up over your head. You look at him with wide eyes, taking in each part of him as he caresses your body gently. He’s in awe of you like this. So relieved that you’re finally his, that he has you like this.

Nimble fingers dance down your body, landing at your core as he runs one up your slit, collecting your arousal on his fingertip. An impressed smirk grows slowly on his face, “I can’t believe you’re this wet already,” he hums. “All for me.”

His eyes remain focused on your center, devouring it with his eyes as his hands hold steady on your thighs. You can’t help but grow slightly embarrassed, dripping with arousal so early on though he’s barely touched you. A lump forms in your throat causing you to swallow thickly – this doesn’t go unnoticed by Jisung.

A concerned expression crosses his face, brow furrowing as he moves his hands upward to settle on your waist. “Hey,” his voice is soft, gentle and full of worry, “everything okay?”

“Just nervous,” you answer, a fake smile showing on your face to try and combat your own emotions.

It is no secret that Jisung is a bit more experienced than you are in bed. He knows that, you know that, and that is enough to turn you into a nervous wreck. Leave it to your own thoughts to ruin the moment.

“We don’t have to…”

“No!” Your voice comes out a little too eager, a bit loud, shocking Jisung. His eyes widen in response, body jolting from the impact of your tone. “No,” you say more gently this time, “I want to.”

You did want to – you just have to get over your own nerves first. Lucily, Jisung didn’t mind and was willing to guide you through it.

With a reassuring smile plastered across his face, he laces his fingers through yours. As you lock eyes, you nod him onward, giving him the go-ahead to continue. He moves languidly, his fingers moving back down to trace your slit once more. The sensation makes you tense, the nerves tingling through your body making it difficult for you to calm down.

But with a reassuring squeeze of his hand to yours, you’re taking a deep breath. Closing your eyes as you lie your head backwards onto his pillowcase. The smell of him consumes you, relaxing you effectively as his fingers meet the entrance of your core.

Shivers run through your body as he dips one finger inside. Your arousal acts as a natural lube, letting his finger glide gracefully into you. You gasp at the sensation, eyes rolling back into your head as he begins caressing your walls. His finger moves swiftly in and out of your core, his other hand still locked with yours to guide you through.

With your body finally relaxing, Jisung is able to add another finger into the mix. The extra pressure makes you shudder for a moment, taking a little to adjust to the greater size inside of you. Thankfully the mild discomfort subsides, and he’s able to pump his fingers in and out once more.

He’s making sure to watch each of your expressions, growing harder and harder just from watching your face contort in bliss. With each of his movements you bite down harder onto your lip, focusing on him and him only.

“You’re doing so well,” he praises as his thumb rubs circles over your hand soothing you. You can feel your heart swell at his words, heat beginning to rise to your cheeks.

In one swift motion, Jisung begins to separate his fingers, stretching your walls as his digits move in scissor-like motions inside you. “Fuck,” you mumble, hips jutting forward in reaction.

A steep moan leaving your lips as he brings his fingers back together, just to extend them once more. Your body is quickly getting used to the pressure, begging for more as you roll your hips.

He can sense that you’re eager from your movements alone. With one final squeeze, his hand is leaving yours. The empty feeling in your palm is unpleasant. But once you open your eyes and notice he’s using it to palm himself, his fingers groping around his length and beginning to pump slowly, that empty feeling is replaced with something else.

Your mouth salivates with desire, hungry for the feeling of him inside of you. He’s aroused you enough, and you’re too eager to feel him for your own good.

“Jisung,” you moan, “fuck me please.”

His cock jumps in reaction to your words, his chest heaving as his breath catches in his throat. Never in his life did he expect to hear those words come out of your mouth – but he wouldn't mind hearing it again.

“Hmm?” He hums, knowing damn well what you said but being greedy enough to pretend that he didn’t. You whine in response, your legs shaking on the bed in a mini temper-tantrum.

“Please,” you drag out, “please fuck me.”

Your words are music to his ears. He removes his fingers from your dripping cunt, grabbing the backs of your knees to pull you closer to him and hike your legs up over his hips.

“Anything for you.”

Complying to your wish, he lines the tip of his cock up with your entrance. The feeling of his smooth head against your core is enough to make you moan, your head thrown back to expose the soft skin of your neck.

Jisung takes this as an opportunity to leave his own mark behind, leaning down to attach his lips to your skin. You gasp as his teeth graze your skin, his plump lips sucking harshly before his tongue is swiping over the area to soothe it.

But your eyes open once he’s beginning to pull away to look at you. His eyes are dark, full of lust mixed with adoration, a sigh of relief leaving his chest as he gazes down at you under him. There’s a lot going on in his head right now. Of all the emotions swirling around, the thing he’s most focused on is how lucky he is to have you.

And before you know it, he’s leaning down. Pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, making you smile. One more kiss is left on your forehead before he's pulling back, securing the position of your legs on his hips.

And then he’s realigning himself with your core, pushing past your entrance and slowly descending into the depths of your pussy. He’s moving slowly, taking his time as he thrusts into you. The delicious stretch is unfamiliar, but it's not uncomfortable – like you were made just for him. A simultaneous groan leaves your lips as he bottoms out, the tip of his cock pressing deep into you on a spot that’s gone untouched.

He hums a sigh of contempt before pulling back, only to rock his hips into you once again. Your velvety walls welcome him delightedly, soft whimpers leaving your lips once he bottoms out again.

“Y/N,” your name leaves his lips in a low grunt, the bones of his pelvis driving into your skin as he begins to pick up his pace. In reaction you clench down on him, orgasm beginning to loom overhead with each movement of his hips.

Desire fills your senses as you roll your hips over to meet his thrusts. His movements are slow and intentional, making sure to bottom out each time to watch you squirm over his dick. He loves how your jaw drops each time his tip presses against your g-spot, knowing just when he hits it each time.

Jisung’s teeth are barred, sweat gathering at his brow as his dark fluffy hair sticks to his face. He’s trying to hold himself back, the overwhelming urge to finish just in reach, but he doesn’t want to stop. So his hands roam your body to try and distract him, his palms caressing up the sides of your torso as your back bridges into him. The feeling of hot breath fans over your face with each sigh he lets out.

But the tightening knot in your stomach is threatening to snap with every movement of his hips. It's getting harder and harder to hold on with the power of his thrusts growing stronger.

“Jisung,” you whine, “so close” your hands find his back, fingernails dragging down his spine in attempts to ground yourself. Jisung’s face contorts as your nails pierce his skin, leaving lines of red scratches down the length of his posterior.

The stretch from his length and his rhythmic motions sends your senses into overdrive. Squeezing your eyes shut and grasping onto the sheets underneath you, you can taste the brink of your orgasm. Jisung is focused; his grip on your thighs strong and his face contorted with bliss. But all you can think about is how stupid you could have been if you had decided to just cut him out. What matters is that you’re here with him now, and the thought of that is enough to push you over the edge.

Your breath hitches in your throat, stomach twisting and turning as your pussy throbs repeatedly around his member. Emotions running high, three words almost slip past your lips, but with the small amount of strength you can muster up, you hold them back. Another time, some time that isn't so lust filled like this one.

Jisung’s thrusts are growing sloppy. His grip on your legs tightening as his lip is caught between his teeth. And with just a few quick thrusts, he’s coming undone inside of you. White, hot spurts of cum paint your walls, filling you up and making you feel so unbelievably full.

You’ve always felt close to Jisung – he knew everything about you and vice versa; but this time was different. The way his hands settled on your legs, bringing them down gently after finishing. How his eyes are becoming so soft as he looks at you, a lazy grin pulling at his lips. You’ve never felt closer to Jisung as you do in the moment. As his body collapses next to yours, pulling you in and holding you close as you recover from your highs, you’re completely at peace.

“Sorry I got carried away, I guess I should have asked if you’re on birth control still,” he laughs, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Don’t worry, I am,” you chuckle alongside him.

Your naked bodies tangle together, his leg weaving its way through yours to be as close to you as possible. He’s intoxicated by you, closing his eyes as he rests against your body in complete bliss. Now that he has you this close he never wants to let go; and neither do you.

“Can I tell you something?” His voice is soft, whisper like but still holding confidence; his tone never falters.

“Anything.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

Butterflies erupt in your tummy, your heart thudding in your chest as heat rises to your cheeks. He loves you. It's not that friendship kind of love anymore; it's the relationship kind. The same kind that makes your heart skip a beat and body riddle with every emotion in the book. The kind that keeps you up all night thinking about – but also helps you fall asleep, knowing he’ll be there in the morning.

And all of a sudden it seems so stupid that you were fighting those words back in the heat of the moment just a few minutes ago. He felt it too, you always knew that.

“I love you, Jisung.”

Being in love is a dumb concept. All guys suck, relationships are stupid and love is a social construct that you didn’t feel like conforming to. There was absolutely no one that you would waste your time on, until Jisung came around. What you had been looking for your entire life has always been right infront of your eyes – you were just too dumb to see it.

Maybe love is alright, after all.

↠ A/N this fic has been rewritten/reconcepted from my previous BTS fic Crush Culture.

#stray kids smut #han jisung smut #kdiner #kwritersworldnet #stayracha #kafenetwork #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #han jisung #jisung x reader #jisung smut #jisung fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #han jisung x reader #skz jisung fanfic #jisung fanfic

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studyingmoominvalley · 3 years

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my analysis of Moominvalley (2019)'s season one soundtrack

(yeah I may not be great at this and I may be missing a lot, but bare in mind this is my analysis, not anyone else's. Please be nice to me ;-;)

I'm Far Away:

Snufkin has travelled for the Winter. The first verse is like Moomin leaving letters in Snufkin's bag, wishing him with good travels and a safe return hope. Snufkin is longing for something to change, or maybe something in him to change... The second verse is more talking about his travels and how he longs to return no matter what happens.

Starlight:

I don't know, reading this and thinking of Snufmin makes me concerned. It's SO obvious that it's from Moomin's perspective that it gives me a cavaty. "Please say you'll never leave 'cause it's in your hands" If that wasn't obvious enough, idk what is. This is him just... wanting to be with Snufkin. He knows deep down that Snufkin has to travel, yes it's in his hands but not completely. It's a part of him. This is obviously his mind in a point of time where he hasn't gotten used to Snufkin being away from him, possibly what is reflected in Teety-Woo.

Summer Day:

Moomin doesn't like the Winter because it feels wrong without Snufkin. But he has Snorkmaiden with him at least, and that's good enough right? Snorkmaiden loves Moomin, almost in a similar way Moomin loves Snufkin, but Moomin just feels tied down in the relationship. He thinks he's just thinking like an adult, like a moody teenager or something. But then again, he feels Snufkin is the only one who understands him ("But when you put your hands in my hands/You speak a language only us can understand"). It feels like Summer with Snufkin, but not with Snorkmaiden. He reassures himself that Spring is coming and that he'll see the one who knows him best soon.

Back To The Cave:

We get to look into Snufkin's brain, ooo! This is mainly about Snufkin's feelings about himself and how he hides his true emotions from Moomin and the others. "They can't see behind the camouflage" this is him hiding behind a wise and carefree persona, when deep down he is conflicted about almost everything. It seems when he runs out of things to say or when he fears that he'll show his emotions, he finds time to be alone, shown by the lines "We're running out of punchlines/So watch us crawl/We're crawling back to the cave". But his feelings are getting too much, his fears of being forgotten most likely because he doesn't express himself in the way he should "There's a storm/It's rising". So basically he doesn't know what to do anymore. And I guess the "you can't be truly free if you admire somebody too much" quote can link to "There's no time/There's no place for idles", showing more that this is about Snufkin's emotions.

Love Me With All Your Heart:

now this song choice was intentional. This is mutual pining, their emotions mixing into the same song. They've loved each other for a long time, be it platonic turning to romance or be it always romantic. They both want each other, they both long for each other. But they don't wish for their relationship to change, they want it to stay the same ("When we're far apart or when you're near me", "Love me always as you've loved me from the start").

Home Again:

Snufkin is back home, and he could not be happier. Yeah he likes to travel and be with his thoughts, but nothing is better than being with Moomin, shown by the lines "Nothing could be better/Than when I hold you close to me" and "Who I was back then and who I am now/Makes no difference when I'm by your side".

There Is Something In The Forest:

One day, Moomin and Snufkin are just adventuring as they usually do. But something feels different. Something new. Moomin realises it that night, when sitting hand in hand with Snufkin. He finds himself losing track of time, only paying attention to his friend. When he goes home, all he can think of is Snufkin. He thinks of it as he walks, embracing his new emotions as love, a deep love, for Snufkin. And he never wants to let it go. Ever.

Home:

Moomin has noticed how off Snufkin has been acting, and one day he decides to comfort him. He tells him that if he ever feels like he needs to hide ("Sometimes you only want to hide") or that nobody is there for him, that Moomin will always be there for him. This song can also link to Snufkin's own saying "You must go on a long journey before you find out how wonderful home is", and seems like Snufkin has found his home in Moomintroll.

All Small Beasts:

nah this is crime anthem. Little My is cheering Snufkin up, telling him that people with lots of dreams, emotions and all that should just let it out in a huge show! Commit crime! Burn some signs! Fuck Hemulens, who's to say what they can or can't do? The first verses are her making fun of people being neat and telling Snufkin that bottling up your emotions is just going to tease at you and bite you in the tail one day. But this can also be seen in another way, brought to my attention by my friend Bloom. It can be a song about owning up to your mistakes instead of keeping them away.

Free Spirit:

must I say anything? Snufkin likes being alone and free. The second verse is what I want to focus on however. He knows it's good to be alone and not worry about anything, but his avoiding of responsibility is doing him worse than he knows (much like the "owning up to mistakes" analysis by my friend Bloom).

Country Air:

This is what Snufkin wishes he could say to Moomin. They're relaxing together in Summer, Moomin asleep. Snufkin is thinking in his brain about how much he loves him and just wishes he could say SOMETHING. Winter is coming soon, almost time for them to part. Maybe he can ponder more on his emotions then?

By Your Side:

it seems Snufkin is accepting and returning Moomin's offering of comfort, showing that he cares for Moomin and that he doesn't even need to ask for help, he'll do anything to make him happy.

In Blue:

oh boy

Snufkin fears he made a mistake already. He let out his emotions. Even when reassured that it was okay to do so, he feels utterly guilty, shown by the lines "I built a house from sticks and twine/And you said it would serve me fine/But then the rain could soak me through". He begins to fear that he's being put up with, like he doesn't matter anymore ("Anything to keep me quiet"). But he can't help but feel a strong admiration for Moomin. Snufkin has made so many mistakes, and has so many bad feelings ("I caught a fever like I always do"), yet Moomin is still his friend ("And still you let me stand with you, in blue"). He feels his emotions are his fault, and wonders if he should just stay in the valley and own up to his mistakes and allow others to show their true emotions for him, shown by the lines "I bet next year I'll see you all the time/The fault is all deserved as mine", "Was it all on purpose?/Was this true?" and "Tell me and be honest, was this you?". The phrase "In Blue" could refer to the saying "into the blue", which refers to the unknown. Snufkin is "In Blue" because he is in a stage where he is unsure of what he is hearing and wants to know if it's true or not.

Nothern Lights:

Snufkin's feelings for Moomin are increasing to what is obvious to him as love. "Will you find peace in your heart?" this line could be Snufkin talking to himself. Will be ever come to peace with his emotions and open up?

Ready Now:

Moomin has been there for Snufkin all this time. Through all his doubts, through all his sadness. Snufkin has no idea how to express himself, so Moomin helps him. They take it in turns to just talk about things, and "To my surprise we found my words". All this time, Snufkin believed himself to be free. But now he knows that opening up and embracing how you feel is true freedom. He is ready now.

The Author:

This is more about Moomin. He feels like his future will be like his father's, he already met Snorkmaiden during a big childhood adventure after all, just like Pappa. But he finds his story is changing. He's fallen in love with Snufkin. He slowly realises that his future is his own and that he is in charge of his story. And his story begins with being there for his best friend.

#moomins #moominvalley #snufkin #moomin #moomintroll #snufmin #analysis #soundtrack

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bokutosworld · 3 years

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then and now | kuroo t.

pairing: kuroo tetsurō x f!reader word count: 1863 words, fluff! mutual pining! warning: manga spoilers, with mention of kuroo’s timeskip occupation summary: always the bridesmaid, never the bride. you thought your time would never come until someone from your past comes along and brings up something you’ve long forgotten. OR where you and kuroo make a silly marriage pact and he shows up after years apart to make it come true.

He chuckled, now comfortably holding your one hand and hiding it in his pocket to keep it warm. “Here I was wondering if you were waiting for me.

Because I was.”

The church bell tolls, white doves are released, and joyful cheer and applause erupts from the crowd as the newlywed couple steps out from the cathedral. The now husband-and-wife gaze at each other full of love, and it is a sight guaranteed to make one envious and long for that same kind of affection.

But to you, it’s a scene that you’ve seen so many times that it already feels like a short film played on repeat. For the past year, you’ve lost count of how many weddings you’ve attended – whether as a guest or part of the bride’s entourage – that you’ve acquainted yourself with the workings of the event.

Heck, you’ve even memorized the readings of the priest that if they ever need a replacement, you can be the stand-in and officiate the program.

However, this wedding was different. Your best friend of more than fifteen years is the one who walked down the aisle, and you’re more emotional than you expected you’d be. Earlier in the morning, she woke you up, feeling sentimental, and demanded a pep talk. It was laughable because, more than her, you thought it was you who needed that assurance as you sent off your childhood friend to a new journey in her life.

The whole ordeal felt surreal and somehow, a tad more personal, because it wasn’t just any bride – this was the same girl you grew up with, the one you’ve seen in diapers, the one who held your hand in the playground, the person who you always ran to for boy troubles. Watching her exchange vows and rings felt like a coming to life of a scrapbook page, a long-awaited dream that you’ve talked about together in sleepovers where none of you really slept.

It made you wonder if you will ever march down the same aisle towards the waiting arms of your beloved.

---

“What a wedding, huh?”

The hotel reception was no different to the ceremony that took place prior. This time again, you wore the bride’s maid-in-honor hat and only after making sure that everything – that included the food, drinks, and entertainment – were in place did you take your place on the table and chatted with your old friends from high school.

The conversation started off with comments on how grand, intimate, and special the ceremony was. They talked about how it was wedding season, counting just how many of their schoolmates have already been wed. And before you knew it, eyes were on you and you had an inkling of what would follow.

“So,” Yoshioka, your former student council president, turned towards you. “You’re the only bachelorette left in our batch. We’re just curious.”

You laughed awkwardly, “No, please don’t expect a wedding invitation from me anytime soon. I’m still happily single.” The smile you wore felt strained, but whether the other girls recognized it or not, they chose to not comment further.

“Besides, it’s a great source of joy for me just being able to see you guys get married.” Noticing that the lights have begun to dim and focused on the spot on the stage, you clapped your hands, “Now, let’s just enjoy Yukie’s wedding, alright! Look, they’re coming out.”

As soon as the couple walked to the floor for their first dance, you heaved a sigh of relief and slumped in your cushioned chair. They moved gracefully as one across the dance floor, seemingly lost in their own world as they gazed deeply in each other’s eyes and swayed to the tune of the love song.

You thought back to the conversation earlier and weirdly, you felt a pang inside. Truth is, in every wedding you’ve attended, you can’t help but feel wishful. You consider yourself successful in almost every aspect of your life but sometimes, it can feel dejecting when you return home to an empty apartment at the end of a tough workday.

A part of you craved to make that little girl’s dream come true of wearing the wedding dress that you’ve designed, staying up all night for a bridal shower, and walking down the aisle to where your lover was waiting.

When the couple’s first dance ended, the host entered the stage and the program officially began. You could only hope that hours would pass faster.

---

Two hours into the reception and you can already feel the shots kicking in your system.

It wasn’t a really good idea downing five straight shots of tequila. At first, you thought it would quell your nerves, make you let loose and be the funnier version of yourself as you stepped to the podium to deliver your congratulatory speech to the couple.

In retrospect, it looks like the drink did its job as you managed to emit laughter and emotional tears from the crowd as you reminisced on your relationship with the bride, recounting the story of how she fell deeply in love and decided that he was the one.

But now, hunched in your seat with head on your hands, you were seemingly tipsy and all you could think about was escaping outside for some fresh air.

So, you did. When the groom’s best man took the stage, you saw this as an opportunity to quietly slip to the balcony.

Shutting the door behind you with a quiet thud, you eyed the empty balcony and sat towards the nearest bench. The surface was a bit cold as the city was now ushering the season of fall, signaling the arrival of long nights and chilly evenings. You shivered slightly and tucked your coat closer to your body as you stare at the darkness.

You don’t know how long you’ve been outside until you heard the door open and in came a tall, attractive, and oddly familiar man. His face held a warm smile as you noticed that his gaze was directed towards you.

“Long day?”

And it was only until he stepped closer and stood in front of you, the moonlight illuminating his face and accentuating his features, that you realized who he was.

“Tetsurō?!”

When was the last time you saw the Kuroo Tetsurō? You racked your brain for your last encounter with him and your memories point to your high school graduation. All of a sudden, you felt small and your surroundings became hot as you stood in front of him. Your former childhood neighbor. Former best friend. Former crush.

Not that he had any idea about that last item.

“I thought I saw you earlier before the reception started,” he made himself comfortable on the bench, patting the space beside him to urge you to sit as well. “But it’s been so long since I last saw you so of course I thought I was hallucinating. Then you gave a speech on stage – which by the way, I thought was awesome, you’re still as witty as you were before – and my suspicions were confirmed.”

You were breathless. Speechless. What were the odds that your reunion with him would be at a wedding?

“Did Yukie send you the wedding invitation?”

His laugh echoed in the darkness of the night, “Yeah, she did. It was nice to see familiar faces again.” He stared back at you, “I missed everyone.” I missed you, he wanted to say.

You hummed in agreement and without realizing, the two of you engaged in a comfortable conversation with Kuroo leading just as he always did. Being charming just as he always was. Telling you stories from the part of the past that you didn’t know. Catching you up with his present where he now works in the sports promotion division of Japan Volleyball Association.

A small part of you was relieved to know that Kuroo was doing well and successful just as you always hoped he would be. Years of no contact with the boy that stole your heart from day one certainly left you lonely. You wouldn’t say it out loud but he was part of the equation of why you still haven’t tied the knot. It was silly but you always thought that no one could measure up to him.

Absentmindedly, you started fiddling with your fingers, a habit you’ve formed when you were feeling cold, and Kuroo noticed. And just as he always did back then, he enveloped your hands with his and brought them to his lips to blow warm air on them.

“That better?”

Your heart threatened to flutter, “Yeah, thanks.”

After a long while of silence, Kuroo spoke. “I see there’s still no ring on your fourth finger.” He was now nonchalantly stroking your hands, letting his fingers slip in yours.

You coughed nervously, averting your eyes from his deep ones. “Well, I haven’t really found anyone.”

He chuckled, now comfortably holding your one hand and hiding it in his pocket to keep it warm. “Here I was wondering if you were waiting for me.

Because I was.” Oh no, be still my heart, you thought.

Kuroo went on, “Remember that silly pact we made on the night before graduation?”

Your mind takes you back on that evening when you and Kuroo were sitting on the rooftop, away from the noisy crowds and drunk soon-to-be college students. This was your thing, enjoying the calmness and admiring the stars spread out in the night sky.

That evening, you and Kuroo talked about the uncertain future that lied ahead. That evening, you bared your soul to him, letting him in on your worries and you fell apart in his comforting presence. He, as always, acted as your anchor, assuring you that he would always be your biggest supporter and that he’d always cheer on you even from afar.

That evening, with the two of you drunk on the excitement and the many possibilities for the new chapter of life, he brought up a proposal.

“I have a crazy idea.” Kuroo linked his pinkie finger with yours. “If we’re still single and not yet married by the age of 35, I’ll find you and we’ll get married.”

Swept away in the moment and the thrill of the idea, you agreed and sealed the proposal with a harmless kiss.

“You still remember that?” You questioned, not expecting him to actually remember that silly pact. Not expecting him to be holding on to that agreement.

“Sometimes, I wonder where we could be now if I just manned up and asked you out that night instead of pulling that act.” He holds your gaze, careful as he brings a hand to cup your cheek. “I’ve liked you for the longest time. And if you’re still available, if you’ll still have me, I am yours.”

“But we’re not yet 35, Kuroo,” you teased. He chuckled and playfully shoved you before bringing you in an embrace.

“I’ve decided years ago. You’re the only one for me,” he pulls away. “I’m sorry it took me a long time.”

And that night, it wasn’t only your best friend that went home feeling the happiest girl in the world.

Because there was Kuroo who was ready to make up for lost time and give you a reason to look forward to your trips back home.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #kuroo x reader #haikyuucreations #haikyuu fluff #kuroo fluff #kuroo scenarios #kuroo imagines #kuroo tetsuro x you #haikyuu kuroo #haikyuu one shot #kuroo tetsuro fluff #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu x you

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him-e · 3 years

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what did you think of shadow and bone? have you read the books? i only read the duology

Thoughts on Shadow and Bone, now that you've probably seen it?

I think the show is alright? It lacks a real wow factor as far as I’m concerned, but it’s enjoyable. It’s especially enjoyable in those parts I didn’t anticipate to like / didn’t even know would be there.

Whereas the main selling points leave a lot to be desired.

The good stuff: the visuals. The aesthetic. The overall concept. Production, casting and costumes are excellent, the setting is fascinating. The worldbuilding isn’t perfect and is sometimes confusing, which is probably due to the show jumping ahead of the books and introducing elements that happen much later in the book saga, but I’m loving the vague steampunk-y vibe of it mixed with more typical fantasy stuff and slavic-inspired lore, the fact that it’s set in dystopian Russia rather than your usual ye olde England.

I find it interesting that in this ‘verse the Grisha are simultaneously superstars, privileged elite, legendary creatures and despised outcasts, according to the context and the type of magic they wield. It’s A Lot, and so far it’s all a bit underdeveloped and messy, like a patchwork of different narratives and tropes sewn together without an organic worldbuilding structure. (there are hints to a past when they were hunted, but how did they go from that to being, essentially, an institutionalized asset to the government isn’t clear yet. There’s huge narrative potential in this, and I hope future seasons will delve into those aspects)

Many of the supporting characters are surprisingly solid. I appreciated that Genya and Zoya eventually sort of traded places, subverting the audience’s assumptions about them and their own character stereotypes, despite the little screentime they were given.

Breakout characters/ships for me were Nina/Matthias, and even more so the Crows, i.e. the stuff I didn’t see coming and knew nothing about (having only read the first book). (I thought the entire Crows subplot was handled in a somewhat convoluted way, at least in the first episodes; it was hard to keep track of who wanted Alina and why, but the Crows’ chemistry is so strong it carried the whole Plot B on its shoulders).

HELNIK. As an enemies to lovers dynamic, Helnik was SUPER on the nose, I’d say bordering on clichéd with the unapologetic, straight outta fanfiction use of classic tropes like “we need to team up to survive” and “there’s only one bed and we’ll freeze to death if we don’t take our conveniently damp clothes off and keep each other warm with the heat of our naked bodies” (not that I’m complaining, but i like to pine for my ships a bit before getting to the juicy tropetown part, tyvm). And then they’re suddenly on opposite sides again because of a tragic misunderstanding - does Bardugo hate high-conflict dynamics? It certainly seems so, because between Helnik and Darklina I’m starting to see a pattern where the slow burn and blossoming mutual trust is rushed and painted in broad, stereotypical strokes to get as fast as possible to the part where they *hate each other again* and that’s... huh. Something.

^That’s probably why I’m almost more interested in Kaz x Inej, because their relationship feels a bit more nuanced, a bit more mysterious, and a bit more unpredictable. (I didn’t bother spoiling myself about them, so I really don’t know where they’re going, but it’s refreshing to see a dynamic that the narrative isn’t scrambling to define in one direction or the other as quickly as possible)

Now, as for Darklina VS Malina... I found exactly what I expected.

Both are ship dynamics I’m, on principle, very much into (light heroine/dark villain, pining friends to lovers) but both are also much less interesting than they claim to be, or could have been with different narrative choices. I’ll concede that the show characters are all more fleshed out and likable than their book counterparts, and the cringe parts I vaguely remembered from the books played out differently. And, well, Ben Barnes dominates the scene, he’s hot as HELL, literally every single second he’s on screen is a fuck you to Bardugo’s attempts to make his character lame and uninteresting and I’m LOVING it, lol.

But yeah, B Barnes aside, Darklina is intrinsically, deliberately made to be unshippable.

It makes me mad, because it’s - archetypally speaking - made of shipping dynamite: yin/yang-sun and moon, opposites attract, COMPLEMENTARY POWERS AND SO ON. And what does Bardugo do with these ingredients? A FUCKING DELIBERATE DISASTER:

^ Placing the kiss so early on (season 1, episode five) effectively kills the romantic tension that was (correctly) building up until that point, and leaves the audience very little to still hope for, in terms of emotional evolution of the dynamic.

Bardugo lays all the good stuff down as early and quickly as possible (the bonding, the conflicted attraction, the recognizing the other as one’s equal, etc) only to turn the tables and pull the rug so y’all sick creepyshippers won’t have anything to look forward to, because THEY’VE ALREADY HOOKED UP AND THAT BELONGS TO THE PAST, IT’S OVER, THEY’RE ENEMIES. This, combined to the fact that she falls for him *without* knowing who he really is, is the opposite of what I want from a heroine/villain ship (it’s basically lovers to enemies, and while that can be valid too, I wanted to see more pining and more prolonged, tormented symbolic attraction to the Shadow/Animus on Alina’s part).

But here’s the trick: it’s not marketed as lovers to enemies - it has all the aesthetics and trappings of an enemies to lovers (the Darkling is, from the get go, villain-presenting, starting from his name), so it genuinely feels like a trollfic, or at the very least a cautionary tale *against* shipping the heroine with the tall dark brooding young villain, and I don’t think it’s cool at all. It makes the story WAY less interesting, because it humanizes the villain early on (when it’s not yet useful or poignant to the story, because it’s unearned) but it’s a red herring. The real plot twist is that the villain shouldn’t be sympathized with, just defeated: there’s a promise of nuanced storytelling, that is quickly denied and tossed aside. So is the idea of incorporating your Shadow (a notion that Bardugo must be familiar with, otherwise she wouldn’t have structured Alina and the Darkling as polar opposites who complement each other, but that she categorically refutes)

Then we have Malina. The good ship.

Look, I’m not that biased against it. I don’t want to be biased on principle against a friends to lovers dynamic that antagonizes a heroine/villain one, because every narrative is different, and for personal reasons I can deeply relate to the idea of being (unspeakably) in love with your best friend. So there are aspects of Malina that I can definitely be into, but it troubles me that in this specific context it’s framed as a regression. It’s Alina’s comfort zone, a fading dream of happiness from an idealized childhood, to sustain which the heroine systematically stunts her growth and literally repressed her own powers, something that in the books made her sickly and weak. But the narrative weirdly romanticizes this codependency, often making her tunnel vision re: going back to Mal her primary goal and centering on him her entire backstory/motivation, to the point that when she starts acting more serious re: her powers and alleged mission to destroy the Fold, it feels inorganic and unearned.

Mal is intrinsically extraneous to Alina’s powers, he doesn’t share them, he doesn’t understand them, he has little to offer to help her with them, and so the feeling is that he’s also extraneous to her heroine’s journey, aside from being a sort of sidekick or safe harbor to eventually come back to. People have compared him to Raoul from Phantom of the Opera, and yeah, he has the same ~magic neutralizer~ vibe, tbh.

The narrative also polarizes Mal’s normalcy and relative “safety” against Aleksander’s sexy evil, framing Alina’s quasi-platonic fixation on the former as a better and purer form of love than her (much more visible and palpable) attraction to the latter. This is exacerbated by the show almost entirely relying on scenes of them as kids to convey their bond. I’m sure there are ways to depict innocent pining for your best friend that don’t involve obsessively focusing on flashbacks of two CHILDREN running in a meadow and looking exactly like brother and sister. LIKE. I get it, they’re like soulmates in every possible way, BUT DO THEY WANT TO KISS EACH OTHER?

Which brings me to a general complain: for a young adult saga centering on a young heroine and full of so many hot people, this story is weirdly unsexy? There are a lot of shippable dynamics, but they’re done in such a careless, ineffective way that makes ZERO EFFORT to work on stuff like slow burn, pining and romantic tension, and when it does it’s so heavy handed that the viewer doesn’t feel encouraged at all to fill the blanks with their imagination and start anticipating things (which is, imo, the ESSENCE of shipping). The one dynamic that got vaguely close to this is, again, Kaz and Inej, and coincidentally it’s also the one we didn’t get confirmed as romantic YET. Other than that, where’s the slow burn? What ship am I supposed to agonize over during the hiatus to season two? Has shipping become something to feel ashamed of, like an embarrassing relative you no longer want to invite in your home?

Anyway, back to Alina/Darkling/Mal, this is how the story reads to me:

girl suspects to be special, carefully pretends to be normal so she can stay with Good Boy

the girl’s powers eventually manifest; she’s forcibly separated from Good Boy

the girl’s powers attract Bad Boy who is her equal and opposite but is also a major asshole

girl initially falls for Bad Boy; has to learn a hard lesson that nobody that sexy will ever want her for who she is, he’s just trying to exploit her

also, no, there is no such thing as a Power Couple

girl is literally given a slave collar by Bad Boy through which he harnesses her power (a parody of the Twin Scars trope)

you know how the story initially suggested that the joint powers of Darkness and Light would defeat evil? LOL NO, Darkness is actually evil itself and the way you destroy evil is using Light to destroy Darkness, forget that whole Jungian bullshit of integrating your shadow, silly!

conclusion: girl realizes being special sucks. She was right all along! Hiding and suppressing her powers was the best choice! She goes back to the start, to the same Good Boy she was meekly pining for prior to the start of the story.

... there’s an uncomfortable overall subtext that reads a lot like a cautionary tale against - look, not just against darkships and villain/heroine pairings, but also *overpowered* heroines and, well... change? Growth?

Like, it’s certainly a Choice that Alina starts the story *already* in love with Mal. That she always knew it was him. The realization could have happened later (making the dynamic much more shippable, too), but no.

#anon #asks #*#sab for ts #long post #darklina for ts #malina for ts #sorry it took me a while but i wanted to see the whole season first

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19gumi · 3 years

Text

WHEN THE SUN SETS | KUROO TETSUROU

Summary: Kuroo hates the way he can never tell what’s on your mind (and also, you eat your cherries ridiculously slowly)

Genre: Fluff (childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining)

Word count: 1.8k

Porcelain plates now stained with chocolate are neatly tossed to the side, bearing the remnants of the croissants Kuroo treated the two of you with. Secluded in your favorite part of the park, you try to get one last whiff of the sweet pastry that you ate a little too quickly for your liking, making a mental note to pay that bakery another visit soon.

The final beams of sunlight graze your face as you observe the birds above you, hurrying to find a shelter before the rosy sky hues turn dark blue. You’ve missed their renowned song – the winter fell into a silence after their departure, sometimes too deafening when paired up with the freezing December cold.

Your field of vision is obstructed by a muscular arm reaching for the cherries in the bowl placed beside your head. You observe his Adam’s apple move as he swallows the fruit, eyes focused on the horizon sprawled in front of him. And then they suddenly shift to your figure, your head soundly placed in his lap.

“You okay?” he asks, thumb rubbing circles in your shoulder.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Dunno. You seemed lost in thought.”

You’re about to respond when his body abruptly shifts under yours, the motion prompting you to sit up straight. Kuroo’s hand flies to the back of his head, and you assume he’s received a hit to it.

That is shortly proven to be true when a distressed mother shouts after her son who you don’t even notice at first, standing a foot away from the two of you. His arms are folded behind his back, lips pouting as his eyes search for the ball he had previously been playing with.

Kuroo’s furrowed brows shift back to their original shape, face muscles relaxing as he takes in the sight of the kindergartener. The mother pants as she approaches the two of you, crouching down next to the child that you assumed wasn’t more than 5 years old.

“Hi, I’m very sorry to have caused-“

Kuroo swats his arms in the air. “It’s not a big deal really, didn’t even hurt.” He then smiles at the kid, extending his hand towards him. “Nice to meet you. I’m Kuroo.”

The kid buries his head in the crook of his mother’s neck as a response, refusing Kuroo’s handshake. She spots the ball and sends him off to pick it up, sighing deeply.

“He gets shy sometimes,” she chuckles, scratching her forehead.

Couple of more apologies and one goodbye later, the sun now long hidden and the moon greeting you (this time only one half of it), Kuroo wishes he could take a peek at your mind.

He knows that’s not possible, though, leaving him with the only option of staring at the side of your face, alluringly illuminated under the evening sky. Admiring the faint glint in your eyes, he sighs when he realizes he is about to go to bed with the same unanswered questions another night in a row.

Kuroo is too lost in the way his fingertips itch to sink themselves in your cheeks, his body starving for that addicting warmth of yours – the one he sensed once for the first time many years ago and never wanted to let go of again.

You turn your head around unreasonably quickly – he’s unprepared and so, so exposed. The look in his eyes is soft, way too soft for you to have a full view of it. He hasn’t said a word, but the faint burning in the pit of his stomach convinces him he’s spilled the most tender secrets of his.

“You know,” you begin, reaching for the bowl with cherries behind you. You chew painfully slow, he thinks, the time that it takes for you to swallow the cherry seeming like an eternity.

“That child from earlier,” you continue at last, fiddling with your hands in your lap. “He reminded me of myself when I was his age.”

Kuroo doesn’t know what he was hoping for, but your words do cause a change in his stance. “How so?”

And there you are, flashing him your signature smile one more time. The enigmatic one, the exact one that he’s been trying to decipher unceasingly.

The same one that causes him to miss serves in practice.

The one that keeps him from entering the world of his dreams at night, but also the one that makes him feel like he’s living the sweetest fantasies of his when he gets to see it up close.

“Just like the birds we watched earlier, the pink sky alerts everyone that it’s time to find a shelter for the night,” you glance at him, to which he nods, prompting you to continue. “My mom would always tell me to go straight home once the sky changed colors, and you know I always followed that rule.”

“Yeah, I remember going home and sulking during dinner because I didn’t get to spend more time with you.”

He mouths an ‘ouch!’ when you poke him in the ribs, clutching at his chest. “Dramatic much?” you chuckle, rubbing circles in his back.

“Anyway,” you continue, retracting your hand. “Sometimes I’d lose my toys just like that child from earlier did, but I wouldn’t have enough time to look for them. The street lights would already be turned on and I didn’t want the monsters to catch me.”

Kuroo lets out a hearty laugh. “Monsters? What monsters?”

You shift your eyes towards your hands, which he sees as a chance to inch closer, just enough for him to feel your shoulder against his.

“Dunno,” you say. “But I knew once I’d reach my mom’s arms that I was safe. She’d always nag at me for forgetting to wash my hands – when in reality I didn’t, I always remembered to do it. But I guess I craved that noise which served as an additional proof that I was secure between the four walls of my room, when the silence of the night was the loudest.”

“Well aren’t you a poetic one [name],” he teases, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

A hush descends between the two of you. Kuroo can feel his lips bruising as he chews on them, unsure whether to verbalize the words that could possibly hint at the desires he held close to his heart.

In the end he does it anyway. “It’s way past sunset now, though. So why,” his voice cracks, before he swiftly disguises it as a cough. Or at least he tries to. “Why aren’t you rushing to get home? What if as we speak, the monsters are actually coming to get you?”

It’s your turn to stare at his side profile now, your pulse forming an unsteady rhythm in your throat as you study the slope of his nose, unsure of what was about to come next.

A confession? Were you really ready to ruin a decade long friendship just because rather than playing catch with him you wanted to kiss his lips instead?

His question is silly, you aren’t that eight year old child anymore – the one who’d run away and leave their friends in the street the same instant the clock stroke seven-thirty.

It’s way past seven now, air breezy and short of any sunrays piercing through it, but not even the scariest monster in this world could make you budge from the tranquility surrounding you in this very moment.

It’s almost as if the thought of a life without Kuroo Tetsurou horrifies you more than anything else that’s out in the wild, waiting for you.

“That’s what I was wondering too”, you sigh. “It might be because you’re here.”

And just like that, your secret is disclosed; it’s a simple statement that makes your lungs feel lighter, the burden of having to bear it within your chest for so long now easing with every exhale you take.

He gulps. The arm around your shoulders seems to have become stiffer, too. He’s already close enough for you to feel his breath on your cheek and all you wish for is to lean into his embrace, all of this talk turning your eyelids heavy.

“But I was there all those years ago as well. What changed?”

“Well, for starters, I was what, eight years old?” you scoff, meeting his eyes momentarily before you let your head fall on his chest, inhaling deeply. You have yearned for the scent of the fresh new leaves ever since they wilted last October. “I guess I wasn’t in love with you back then, Tetsu.”

It’s silent. You think it’s unfair – everything you’ve built over the years rapidly slipping through your fingers, just because of one sentence full of longing, anticipation. But then his arm travels down to wrap itself around your waist, the other one finding its way to the nape of your neck.

It’s not the first time he’s heard those words leave your mouth - his imagination has deceived him multiple times already. He’d wake up only to find himself clinging onto his pillow, providing enough heat to trick him into thinking it belonged to you.

However, your scent is way too real for everything to be fake this time around; it simply can’t be. The words he’s been longing to hear are there, the confession lingering in the air only for him and the trees around you to know.

All it takes now is for you to learn his answer, even though the way he’s pulling you into his body gives you an idea of what it might be.

“Do you know why I never went home before you did?” he asks.

“Mm. Why?” your voice is muffled by his hoodie, the vibration sending chills down his spine. He’s convinced now. This is truly his reality he’d always been wishing for.

“Because you were there,” he tilts his head, moving your chin so you can look up at him. He’s grinning, and if he didn’t just admit he was in love with you, you’d probably be now telling him how lame you thought he was. “I couldn’t understand it then, the way your presence made me feel at peace. I realized what it was only when we started high school. I didn’t want to say anything, though.”

“So?”

“So,” he says, his hand leaving your waist to join his other one on your face, lightly squishing your cheeks. “I’m very much in love with you, too.”

His gaze momentarily shifts to your lips, before it’s back on your eyes. “I really want to kiss you, [name].”

The entirety of your body heat accumulates in your face, and his fingers effortlessly melt against it, your body sinking into the grassy earth as if it’s sand.

“Do you?” you ask, your thumb grazing his bottom lip.

“Yes. Can I?”

You nod, and Kuroo swears his heart skips a beat. Hypnotized, he allows his eyes to flutter shut, ready to memorize all the various flavors you have to offer.

When finally he gets to savor your bare, delicate skin - sweeter than anything he has ever tasted before, it’s like the world stops for the both of you.

Or maybe you only drift to your own, each swipe of his tongue guiding you through a new route, the destination of which has yet to be discovered.

#kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo x y/n #kuroo fluff #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro fluff #kuroo tetsuro x you #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff

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lesbianlotties · 3 years

Link

follow you to the beginning (just to relive the start) - Sam/Deena - Fake Dating AU

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Fear Street Trilogy (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Fraser/Deena Johnson, Samantha "Sam" Fraser & Deena Johnson, Samantha "Sam" Fraser/Peter (Fear Street Part 1: 1994), Samantha "Sam" Fraser & Simon Kalivoda, Samantha "Sam" Fraser & Kate Schmidt (Fear Street), Deena Johnson & Kate Schmidt, Deena Johnson & Simon Kalivoda, Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Deena Johnson, Samantha "Sam" Fraser (Fear Street), Kate Schmidt (Fear Street), Simon Kalivoda, Josh Johnson (Fear Street), Peter (Fear Street Part 1: 1994), Background & Cameo Characters Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Canon Lesbian Character, Slow Burn, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Best Friends, High School, Angst, Humor, Fluff, First Love, Eventual Happy Ending, Friends to Enemies, Enemies to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Sam and Deena are next-door neighbors, and they inevitably and enthusiastically become best friends... until childhood gives way to tragedy, grudges, and regret.

By the time they make it to high school, Sam and Deena are still next-door neighbors but also sworn enemies... until high school introduces bigger threats that they will need to face together.

Faking a relationship might be a bad idea. But it might be the only way for Sam and Deena to understand their shared past and their feelings for each other.

Chapter 1:

Sam and Deena became best friends during one perfect summer day when they were seven years old. In Shadyside, however, perfect days weren’t meant to exist. The only reason little Sam Fraser finally had the time and freedom to spend time with her next-door neighbor was because her parents were caught in the first big fight of hundreds more to come. A part of Sam would associate both events as one and the same for a long, long time. The beginning of her friendship with Deena and the downfall of the Fraser family. In contrast, Deena was living some of the best days of her life. Days that she would treasure and idolize, perhaps more than she should have, for many years to come. Her mother was alive, her father was sober, her little brother was safe in their hands. She had all the time in the world to go out into the backyard, lay on the ground, and look for shapes in the clouds. She had been doing that for a while then a shadow suddenly appeared over her.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked. Her voice was still trembling slightly from the way she had run out of her house crying. Her eyes were red and she had a runny nose, but she looked genuinely curious to understand what her neighbor was doing.

Deena didn’t reply at first. She couldn’t. She was too shaken by the impact of Sam’s first impression on her. It wasn’t the very first time they met, of course. But their parents were usually hovering above them. So far they had never been alone together. They were very different kids, it was easy to tell with just one look. Not just physically, with Deena’s wild mane of curly brown hair and Sam’s being straight and blond, Deena’s brown eyes being warm and guarded meanwhile Sam’s blue eyes cried out her every emotion. It was also about the way Deena was thrown on the grass, comfortable and taking as much space as possible in her slightly oversized clothes that she picked herself, as long as they were in sale, while her mother fondly chuckled and followed her around the store in spite of which gendered aisle her daughter got lost in. Sam was the complete opposite, in her bright pink clothes that were always too loose or too tight because her mother didn’t care to bring her along when buying her clothes and it was made all the more noticeable by the way in which Sam stood tense and awkwardly, uncomfortable from head to toe, her feet restless as if ready to run at any given moment.

The silence between them had stretched out for too long, but Sam was good at waiting. Deena moved to a seated position and took a better look at the girl in front of her. “Fraser,” she blurted out. She couldn’t remember her neighbor’s name, but she knew her parents were Mr. and Mrs. Fraser of the constant frowns.

“Um, Johnson?” Sam tilted her head. She didn’t understand this game of calling out each other’s last names.

“I’m Deena,” the brunette said and jumped to her feet, not bothering to brush away the grass stuck to her clothes.

“Sam,” the other girl offered her hand.

Deena laughed, but she was troubled. She wanted to laugh so much more. There was this weird girl in front of her, obviously a second away from bursting into tears again, probably from the weight of the glittery pink ribbon on her head, and she was offering Deena her hand in greeting. However, her laughter died in Deena’s throat. The instinct to tease was, for once, overpowered by something new and somewhat unfamiliar. She didn’t know it was protectiveness, she didn’t understand what it was at all. She only felt a pull on her heart that wanted to make sure her neighbor was okay.

So, Deena shook Sam’s hand. She invited her to lay down with her to watch shapes in the clouds. She didn’t laugh at Sam, she made it her mission to make Sam laugh. Unknowingly, with that innocent handshake, they were starting out together the greatest adventure of their lives, with all the glorious ups and devastating downs that it would include.

It was still early, they had the entire day ahead of them, and under the clear blue Shadyside sky, the world was all theirs.

They started lying down on the grass, side by side, looking up at the clouds. At first, it was perfect, and fun. Sam’s stomach started aching from how hard she was laughing every time Deena pointed out at the sky and said “That one looks like a butt.” And then Sam would point at a completely unidentifiable cloud and say, “That one looks like a robot.”

“What?!” Deena laughed wholeheartedly. “No, it doesn’t! You weirdo.”

Sam’s laughter dimmed. “Do you think I’m weird?”

“No!” Deena scoffed. “Isn’t that like a compliment?”

The blonde hummed in response. She hadn’t considered that the other girl was just as inexperienced at talking to other girls her age.

For a moment, there was silence between them. Enough silence for Sam to remember the deafening noise of her parents fighting, blaming each other, blaming her, blaming the town. Before she could stop it, Sam was crying again.

“Sam?” Deena called her name. She moved to a seated position and placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder gently. “I’m sorry. I really don’t think you’re that weird.”

“That weird?” Sam chuckled through her tears.

Deena laughed along with her, but she still looked out of her comfort zone dealing with her crying neighbor. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m okay,” Sam wiped her tears away, willing herself to regain her composure as her mother always told her to do. “I just… cry a lot. My dad says it’s because my mom doesn’t have feelings and I have to cry for the both of us.”

“Okay,” Deena nodded, not knowing how to put into words how wrong that sounded. Then she noticed a single blade of grass stuck to Sam’s pretty blonde hair. “Hold on Sam, you have grass on your head,” Deena said, and reached out to take it off.

However, Deena’s hand on her hair made an idea light up in Sam’s mind. She gasped and grabbed Deena’s wrist, holding her in place. “We should make flower crowns!”

“What?!”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know how to do it,” Sam smiled teasingly.

“Of course I do!” Deena scoffed. She was happy to see Sam smile, but she was second-guessing her previous statement about the blonde not being weird. Plus, it turned out not even Sam knew how to make flower crowns. It wasn’t as easy as it seemed.

The two girls ended up hiding behind flower bushes between their homes. Sam had entertained herself weaving the prettiest flowers she could find in Deena’s curls. Meanwhile, Deena was content pulling blades of grass and unceremoniously letting them fall on Sam’s head. Deena couldn’t understand how Sam could be unbothered by the game. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Sam didn’t have many friends. In fact, not too long later, Sam whispered, “You’re my first real friend.”

Deena beamed upon hearing the words. She was happy with her parents and baby brother but, secretly, she had always wished for a friend, a girl like her, and here she was, finally. “You’re my only friend too,” Deena replied, a little shyly.

“Really?” Sam’s eyes widened.

“Yeah,” Deena chuckled.

The blonde hummed thoughtfully. “I think that makes us best friends,” Sam said.

“Oh yeah?” Deena asked. She received a confident nod in response. That made sense to her too. “Then we should celebrate.” She jumped to her feet and offered her hand to Sam, who didn’t hesitate to follow.

The day was long, and there was so much they were dying to show each other. The hours passed by in a sun-bathed blur of childish laughter. They did everything and nothing, jumping without reason, running without destination, rolling in the grass, picking flowers, climbing trees, scratching their knees, and jumping back up into made-up games and fantasy scenarios that they hadn’t ever had a chance to share with anybody.

There were a thousand little moments that years later they would wish they could have immortalized some way. When Deena showed Sam a spider and Sam ran away. When Deena hurt her finger with a thorn from Sam’s mother’s rose bushes, and Sam kissed the afflicted finger and promised she wouldn’t tell anybody Deena cried.

When Deena started climbing the tree at the back of the backyard, Sam started freaking out. “Deena! You’ll hurt yourself!” Sam repeated many times. Deena was thinking Sam sounded older than she really was when she was worried.

“I won’t,” the blonde scoffed, getting comfortable in what actually was a really low branch of the tree. “Besides, if I fall you can catch me!”

“I can try!” Sam said, throwing her arms around her. “But you’ll probably crush me and then we’ll both be dead!”

“Hey! I’m not that heavy!”

Deena’s protest, unfortunately, made her lose her balance. For a moment, she was hanging from the branch of the tree, feeling her heart on her throat. But then Sam’s slender arms were holding on to her legs, as tightly as the little girl was capable of. Deena smiled brightly. She felt surprisingly safe, even if she knew that Sam wasn’t strong enough to literally hold her up. “Sam, let go, it’s okay, I got it,” Deena let her know.

Sam stepped back to let Deena land on her feet, but a second later she was back, wrapping her arms around Deena’s torso this time, holding just as tightly if not more. “You scared me,” Sam mumbled, her voice muffled by the way she had her face pressed against Deena’s shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Deena said. She let her arms fall limply at her sides. She still felt out of her depth with Sam, even after one of the best days of her life. Her instinct told her to make fun of Sam, who was moved near to tears. But her heart stopped her for unknown reasons. Instead, she let her cheek rest on top of Sam’s head. At the time, Deena was taller. “It’s okay,” Deena repeated. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m your best friend, remember? I don’t think I’m allowed to leave you now.”

Sam chuckled and finally dropped her arms. Deena felt a chill at the loss. “Do you promise?” Sam asked.

Deena frowned a little, but continued to smile. “I promise,” she said, finding it increasingly difficult to say not the blonde girl that had stumbled into her personal space earlier that day with tears still in her eyes.

“Okay,” Sam exclaimed. She leaned forward and placed a sweet kiss on Deena’s cheek. She was so excited it nearly threw both of them off balance, and when she pulled back, they were both blushing. But they moved on quickly, that day. Sam took Deena’s hand and started leading her to a different spot in the wide and free space behind their houses. “My mom told me about a spa. It’s a place where they put mud in your face to make you pretty. We should try it.”

“I’m already pretty!” Deena protested.

“Yeah, you are,” Sam shrugged. “But maybe it can help me.”

“You are more than pretty, Sam,” Deena frowned.

That made the blonde girl stop in her tracks. “Do you think so?” She asked Deena, and the brunette nodded enthusiastically. Sam was thoughtful for a moment, but eventually shrugged, and tried to continue with her plans, clearly not completely believing the other girl’s words. She was stopped by Deena a moment later, refusing to go further.

“Hey, you didn’t make the promise too,” Deena pointed out.

“Oh! You’re right,” Sam nodded, very seriously. “Okay then… I promise to always be your best friend, and to never leave you, and… um, is there something else?” She looked up at Deena for guidance.

Deena grinned at her. “No, that’s it. That’s cool.”

The two girls started laughing again, and continued with their games for a long time. They did end up playing with the mud, and then tried to wash it off, creating a bigger mess, with the hose they found behind Deena’s house.

Toward the end of the day, when the sun started to set, both girls were well aware that their parents would be coming out at any moment to call them back home. They chose to end their first day as best friends exactly how they started it. They lay on the grass in the backyard in between their houses, and they looked up at the infinite sky above them. There weren’t many clouds anymore, but the first stars were showing up in the sky, and they were more than happy to count them one by one.

That was how it started. One perfect day, and dozens of them just the same. Sam ran away from her house to the backyard every time her parents were having a fight. Deena made her laugh until Sam couldn’t remember crying for anything other reason than pure joy. Sam picked the prettiest flowers she could find and gave them to Deena, and hugged her especially tight every time Deena fell down from the tree she loved to climb. From the Johnsons’ window, Deena’s mom watched them fondly, happy that her daughter had a friend. From the Frasers’ window, Sam’s mom watched them with a frown on her face, upset about Sam ruining her clothes. But they never had reasons to stop them from having fun, they didn’t have any reason to put barriers between their daughters. And the two girls couldn’t imagine a world where they would be anything but the best of friends.

Much like everything in Shadyside, their perfect days would soon come to a bitter end but, even then, it wouldn’t be the end of Sam and Deena’s story.

#hello! please support and share and read and comment and i'll love u forever! <333 #it's my attempt at childhood friends to enemies to lovers via fake dating #fear street #sameena #sam x deena #deena x sam #sam fraser #deena johnson #fear street fanfic #fs #my fic

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in-class-daydreams · 3 years

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The Splash Zone - Tsukishima x Reader (Oneshot)

Jurassic World! AUPairing: Son of Park CEO!Tsukishima Kei x Mosasaur Trainer!Reader

- Word Count: ~9,000

- Genres: Fluff, angst

- CW: Mentions of death, objectification of main character, sexual harassment-

Mango’s Introduction: Tsukishima the younger is a bit… prickly. Don’t say that to his face, obviously, because he’s technically your boss, but for all his personality flaws, he’s definitely excellent at his job and he cares more about the people around him than he lets on. He’s snarky with that mosasaur trainer more than anyone else, but you can tell he’s sweet on her. I guess you could call it the adult equivalent of pulling a girl’s pigtails on the playground. Uh, don’t tell him I said that, he’s my boss too.

(A/N: For all of you who were interested in this series, y'all waited nearly a year for less than 10,000 words, and I apologize, haha. It's been sitting 95% finished all that time, but I moved onto some other projects because I wasn't confident in my writing abilities. After a year's worth of writing exercises via different projects, I'm now okay with putting this out for all of you. I hope my next few projects (AoT and KnY) knock your socks off, but for now, here's a little journey about following your own convictions, featuring our favorite salty blonde.)

Tsukishima had it all. Money, looks, brains, and sure, his personality could use a little work, but he wasn’t completely insufferable. Most of the time. But if you asked him, his sour attitude was hardly his fault. After all, he was the heir to a multi-trillion dollar theme park, so it’s not like there were any consequences for him talking to people the way he does. For all he cared, he could be as snarky as he liked, considering he didn’t work with many people that were willing to speak their mind to him.

“Bite me, Tsukki.”

Well, except for a certain mosasaur trainer that was really grating on his nerves. Said trainer sat across from him from her seat in his office, arms crossed and jaw tense. Tsukishima tapped his fingers on his desk.

“Are you done throwing a tantrum like a six-year-old?” he asked. (Y/N)’s hands balled in her lap. She kept her mouth shut, glowering at the desk in front of her to keep her temper under wraps.

The blonde rolled his eyes. About fifteen minutes ago, he watched her kick in the door to the employee lounge and make her way over to the mosasaur staff supervisor. All eyes were on her as she moved towards him with murderous intent rolling off of her in waves. While (Y/N) was the one with the most control over the aquatic dinosaur itself, the supervisor was the one who hired staff, had them trained, made their schedules, and completed the other overall administrative duties. Their position was a catch-all and they were meant to do the primary inspections that made the mosasaur shows run properly.

Company policy encouraged open communication between colleagues, of course. Jurassic World Theme Park prided itself on proficient employee cooperation, as per the employee handbook and what the marketing team insists they say. Tsukishima just wished (Y/N) had opened her statement with something a smidge more polite than, “Are there any grooves in your fucking brain or is it all just smooth in there?”

After that hell of a conversation starter, she and the supervisor verbally ripped into each other. If Kei hadn’t grabbed (Y/N) by the windbreaker and dragged her into his office, he wouldn’t have been surprised if they ended up ripping into each other physically, too. To her credit, (Y/N) most definitely won, but that would have been a bigger pain in his ass.

“(Y/N), you can’t speak like that to people you work with. I heard what you said about him keeping an eye on his interns, and that’s his business, not yours,” he sighed. It was too early for this crap, especially since his assistant called in sick and hadn’t made him his morning coffee, and there were a million things to do in preparation for the board meeting today. He had better things to do than settle this stupid argument.

(Y/N) looked at him with disbelief, “You think I went in there to yell at him for fun? You have no idea what happened, Kei, how are you already taking his side?”

Tsukishima looked into her fiery gaze for a moment. He leaned back, brushing down the front of his navy blue button-down.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“But it’s what you said,” she shot back.

He pursed his lips. “Alright, I’m sorry,” he muttered.

(Y/N)’s mouth dropped for a moment, then the corner quirked up ever-so-slightly, “What was that, Tsukki?”

“Just explain before I lose my patience,” he snapped. His ears felt hot.

She laughed, “Because you’re the picture of patience right now.”

“(Y/N).”

Although the anger in her posture returned, she was able to remain more composed than she had earlier.

“One of the interns came up to me about an hour ago to ask me about the coding for the hydraulic lift.” (Y/N) threw her hands up and leaned back in her chair, as if that was the answer to everything.

“I’ll need some more details than that.”

She groaned in frustration, “There’s the mosasaur tank and the stadium

surrounding it, yeah? And partway through the show, the hydraulic lift lowers the stadium to the underground viewing area, right? Well, for all that to happen, the codes on the control panel have to be specific,” her hands moved fervently as she got deeper into her explanation. “The codes never change, but every morning, the supervisor makes sure they’re correct and I double check before the show. If the codes are incorrect, the stadium might lift too fast, too slow, too much, or not at all.”

Kei nodded for her to continue, to which she gave a grateful nod before going back into rant mode.

“Interns don’t have clearance into that area. He gave her his fucking badge so she could go in and do the checks without him. She shouldn’t have been down there and she definitely shouldn’t have been checking the control panel. Look,” she ran a hand through her hair, “I don’t want to tell the guy how to do his job. If he wants to train the interns how to run the control panel, then fine, it’s not in my job description to police that. But that brand-new, inexperienced, fresh-out-of-college kid was all by herself down there doing that idiot’s job. She could have gotten hurt. She could have gotten other people hurt. It was her supervisor’s job to train her better and to take better care of his interns and if I don’t raise hell about this kind of stuff now, then who will? So fuck that guy, he deserved to get yelled at.”

(Y/N) heaved herself out of her chair, “And now that everyone thinks I’m a raving lunatic, I’m going back to my office to change. Try not to need me.”

As the son of the owner of Jurassic World Theme Park, Tsukishima Kei was raised to do two things: work with dinosaurs and obey his father. When he was younger, he thought he would get to work with the dinosaurs as a trainer, regulate their feeding schedules, train them, and educate the masses about the wonders of science. But he was wrong. The future his father had in store for him involved dinosaurs, yes, but more along the lines of determining the cost of developing a new dinosaur or what characteristics are interesting to the general public so that the park can turn a profit.

Several years ago, when his father originally had her brought to the island, Kei had been skeptical. Out of all the candidates for the mosasaur trainer, (Y/N) had been particularly young, but for some reason, his father was insistent that the new mosasaur trainer be her. (Y/N) later proved and continued to prove that she wasn’t just qualified, but born to work with the mosasaur, Dolly, she called her. She cared for her with a deep passion that transcended interspecies boundaries.

(Y/N) was amazing at her job, and it was unfair of Tsukishima not to hear her out initially. There was a fine line between teasing as a result of mutual pining and just being a dick, and it seemed like Kei had crossed that line.

(Y/N) knew he was coming. That was one of the things she really appreciated about Tsukishima. He was a snarky asshole who liked to rile her up, and in the beginning, he was garbage at apologies, but over time, they’d apologized to each other so often that he no longer dragged ass over it. Once he realized he was in the wrong, he would find her immediately.

Tsukishima let himself into (Y/N)’s office, where he found her and the raptor trainer in deep conversation.

“Kei! Seriously, I could’ve been changing!” she yelled. She’d told him a million times to knock before coming in, but he rarely listened.

“Don’t worry, even if you were, there’s nothing to see,” he said teasingly.

(Y/N) scowled, “You wouldn’t know.”

Tsukishima scoffed.

“Anyway, Hajime, what else did that guy say?” (Y/N) said.

Kei frowned at the two cups from Tiki Smoothie in front of them. He wondered if Iwaizumi had brought her one as a surprise or if she’d asked him to bring her one. Both possibilities put him in a bad mood. Supposedly, they were just close friends, but (Y/N) forced him to watch enough Hallmark movies for him to know the friends-to-lovers trope quite well. It ranked just below childhood friends-to-lovers and just above enemies-to-lovers. He must have been staring at those cups for some time, because by the time he zoned back in, Iwaizumi had already finished his explanation.

“--train the raptors for the battlefield,” Iwaizumi finished.

(Y/N) raised an irritated brow, “Like dogs?”

The raptor trainer shrugged, “Apparently.”

“Did you tell him that’s not how raptors work?” she asked.

“I didn’t bother. He-- Sorry,” Iwaizumi fished his ringing flip phone from his vest pocket. “I gotta go, (Y/N), I’ll tell you more at dinner later,” he said on his way out the door.

“Okay, but I wanna hear about your thing with that pretty P.O. Manager later!”

The taller man stopped and gripped the door frame in surprise.

“Wha-- There’s no ‘thing’!” Iwaizumi sputtered.

“Whatever keeps your blood pressure normal."

As (Y/N) waved her friend off, Tsukishima rested his weight on the back of the vacated chair.

“What was that all about?”

(Y/N) sighed, making her way over to the wardrobe next to the door.

“Some military guy had a talk with Hajime about using the raptors for war. He said they’re better than drones because they’re not hackable and blah blah blah.”

“Does he realize that-- what are you doing?!” Tsukishima choked when (Y/N) dropped her loose gym shorts. Underneath, she wore plain navy blue bikini bottoms.

“Relax, Kei, you’re the one who invited yourself into my office. Besides, it’s not like you haven’t seen a girl’s bare legs, right?” she teased as she stepped into her dive skin. The tall young man moved to sit behind the desk. Forcing down his blush, he took on a snarky tone once again.

“Obviously. I didn’t think you had time for that kind of thing, since you’ve been cooped up with Darby for the last few years.”

(Y/N) shook her wetsuit at him, “Her name is Dolly! It’s always been Dolly and you know it, you little shit!”

“Language, (Y/N),” he smirked. What would my father say if he knew you spoke to me like that?”

“Oh, trust me, Malfoy, your father knows exactly how I speak to you, and he couldn't care less,” she snarked, looking pleased with herself..

The teasing glint in Tsukishima’s eyes wavered at the comment, though he knew they shouldn’t have. ‘Don’t dish it if you can’t take it’ he always said. He knew his father loved him the way any man loves his son, but Kei’s rank in his father’s heart in relation to money had always been questionable.

“Sorry. Too much,” (Y/N) said quietly. She pulled up her dive skin and removed her windbreaker, revealing a matching bikini top.

“It’s not your fault,” the blonde mumbled back. (Y/N) made her way around the desk. Leaning her weight on the edge facing him, she said, “Really, I’m sorry. That was in bad taste.”

Tsukishima waved dismissively, “It’s fine, you didn’t mean it. Just caught me off guard… Actually, I came to apologize to you for earlier.”

She grimaced, “I’m sorry for freaking out so hard. I didn’t mean to make trouble for you the same day as a shareholders’ meeting.”

“You’d be okay with making trouble for me normally?”

“That a serious question?”

With a light chuckle he said, “Right, right. It’s fine... I’m sorry for not

hearing you out. For what it’s worth, that guy is as good as fired.”

“Fired!?” she yelped, making him jump. “Wait, you can’t fire him!”

“Actually, I can--”

“Fine. As his boss, you legally could fire him, but I’m saying don’t. One, we can easily get him to clean up his act. Two, his wife is preggers. Gregnant. Pregante.”

“I got it the first time.”

“Just making sure.”

Tsukishima huffed, holding back a smile, “Worrying about someone whose head you were about to bite off two hours ago. That’s just like you.”

There was a gentle knock at the door and Yamaguchi, a paleo-veterinary intern, poked his head through the doorway.

“(Y/N), are you ready for the show? We have 20 minutes until start time,” he informed her with a sweet smile.

“Yup!” She stuffed her arms through the tight neoprene sleeves, “Are you the specialist on standby this time, Yama?”

The shorter girl turned around and moved her hair to the side in a silent request. Standing to his full height, Tsukishima pinched the sides of her zipper with one hand and pulled the tab up with.

Yamaguchi couldn’t help but laugh. His two friends stopped, (Y/N) with her hands holding up her hair, Tsukishima with his hands tugging on her suit zipper.

“What’s so funny?” his childhood friend asked. Yamaguchi just shook his head and confirmed that, yes, he would be on medical standby for the upcoming show.

“Close the door when you leave, okay, Tsukki?” (Y/N) shot over her shoulder on the way out.

“Good luck with your show,” he said simply. She frowned in confusion. Before she could comment, Yamaguchi rushed her out the door.

“--near the surface of the water, where it preyed on anything it could sink its teeth into, including turtles, small fish, even smaller mosasaurs, but don’t worry, that’s not why Dolly here doesn’t have any siblings.”

The crowd chuckled. Tsukishima always enjoyed when (Y/N) did the demonstrations herself. The guides did the jobs they were contracted to do, and maybe it was that he already knew how much she loved Dolly, but whenever (Y/N) did it, it always felt less like a show and more like the introduction of a close friend of hers. That was the truth, after all.

“You see, when Dolly was born, I was the first thing she saw. This caused something called imprinting, and if I just made you think about that freaky Twilight baby, I’m so sorry.”

Another wave of laughter rippled through the crowd. “And what that means is, Dolly and I share a special bond. She feels a special connection to me that she doesn’t feel for any other creature on this planet. When she was growing up, we communicated with this,” she held up a silver whistle.

“You can’t hear these sounds, but Dolly can. She knows the sound of the whistle, and that makes her think, ‘Oh, that’s my handler! Yay, she’s gonna feed me!’ Which is something I thought whenever my mom called my name during my teenage years.”

“She’s entertaining, isn’t she?” one of his father’s associates commented. Rather than sitting in the wide open arena seats under the beating sun, Kei’s father, the elder Tsukishima, sat up in an air-conditioned glass box high above the regular seats. Today, a group of shareholders and potential investors were performing their monthly assessment of the park’s assets. After going to every single one of these meetings since he was twelve, Tsukishima was more or less used to these meetings, but he was getting irked by the way a particularly sweaty, sleazy-looking businessman two and a half times his age was staring not at the tank itself, but at the trainer on the platform above it. If it weren’t for his father, he would have nastily told all of them to never take even a single breath in her direction.

“The girl’s gotten real grown up since we first saw her,” the man said, rubbing his chin.

‘Don’t look at her like that,’ Kei growled internally.

“Good eye, Yamada-san. She just turned twenty-one,” his father replied.

‘But that doesn’t concern you,’ Kei thought.

“Really? She looks young, but she seems so mature for her age,” another dirty businessman observed.

“You always did like the young-looking ones, you creepy old man!” laughed Yamada. Tsukishima bit down on his tongue so hard he had to remind himself not to bite it off.

“Ah, yes, I took her age into account from the get-go,” Tsukishima-san said. “By nature, the mosasaurus would only accept one trainer, and I brought her to the island at such a young and impressionable age that she would only listen to me.”

“And then you have a safe way to control the dinosaur,” one of the shareholders concluded.

“Exactly. And you’re right, Yamada-san, she’s grown up to be quite attractive. Shame she ended up so strong-willed, else she might have made a quality match for my son. Perhaps if Kei here can reel her in, he’ll make a wife out of her yet, right, son?”

The younger Tsukishima’s skin crawled as every pair of eyes in the room landed on him. He could just imagine opening his mouth and ripping them all a new one. What would Yamada say if he called him out on his predatory behavior? Or he could say, ‘Ah, Mr. Kawasaki, how’s that custody battle with your wife going? I hear she’s winning because the kids would rather live with her. Oh, Chairman Yang, I didn’t see you there! Have you beaten that nasty gambling addiction of yours? Goodness, from the looks of those eye bags and how badly your ‘designer’ suit is frayed, my guess is no.”

But Kei can’t say any of those things. He has too much to lose, should he compromise his position as his father’s heir and future CEO. The blonde glanced briefly out the window at the smiling girl talking animatedly about her most treasured friend. He mentally sends her an apology for being unable to defend her yet again.

Kei grit his teeth and finally replies.

“Yes, father.”

If he were born as anyone else, he could romance her properly, instead of passing glances, not-so-subtle flirting, and raging sexual tension. They wouldn’t have had to play the whole ‘will we or won’t we?’ schtick. But he was still Tsukishima Kei. He was destined to take over his father’s company, and by design, his partner would have to attend board meetings and brunches and wine and cheese parties. Kei had no desire to drag (Y/N) into that kind of life, but what’s more, (Y/N) would never agree to it. At one time, he considered asking her about it. Ask her to consider making that sacrifice for him. But at the end of the day, he never did bring it up to her because he was scared of the answer he’d receive.

Her enthusiastic voice faded back into his consciousness, “Enough of me talking. Is everyone ready to meet Dolly?”

They all turned back to the window at the sound of (Y/N)’s voice.

The crowd cheered in affirmation.

“What was that? I can’t hear you?”

The cheers transitioned into a deafening roar.

“Alright, for those of you in the splash zone, expect to get soaked in about ten seconds and counting.”

(Y/N) pressed a button, and the feeder crane slowly moved to dangle a heavy shark over the mosasaurus tank. The trainer leaned against her platform’s railing. She put the whistle to her lips, but no one heard any sound.

“You hungry, girl?” she asked the tank. There was no prior indication of any movement before the leviathan reptilian dinosaur leapt out of the water and easily snatched up its prey with its rows of hundreds of teeth. Its great mass seemed to linger midair for what felt like forever before sliding back into the water with a giant splash that had the crowd squealing with delight.

“Hold on tight,” (Y/N) spoke up as the stands started lowering under the stadium, “We’re gonna get to take a little closer look at our girl, Dolly the Mosasaurus.”

“How was your meeting?” (Y/N) asked upon her arrival in Tsukishima’s own office, finally free of her restricting wetsuit and hair still wet from her shower. Not looking up from his paperwork, the blonde grunted, “Fine.”

(Y/N) smiled and sat on the edge of the desk beside him. Both hands came up to zip her windbreaker.

“That bad, huh?”

“You sit in a glass box for 45 minutes with a group of men over fifty, and tell me you had fun,” he grumbled. Giving him a sympathetic look, she slid off the desk to place her hands on his shoulders. She gently massaged the tension from them. Lately, Tsukishima Senior had been giving his son more responsibility to “prepare him to take over the company,” which would have been a more believable excuse if the older man wasn’t relaxing by the pool and golfing with his friends 4 days a week. Kei leaned into her touch.

‘You are nothing like your father, though, Kei,’ she internally mused. Dragging her hands down from his shoulders to clasp in front of him, she hugged him from behind. Soothed by her presence, he wondered if he even needed to tell her how he felt about her. It seemed like she already suspected. Though, if she already knew and wasn’t saying anything, what exactly were her feelings on the matter?

“Today was so tiring, Tsukki,” she rested her chin on top of his blonde head. “This family was asking me questions, but their two irritating ass kids kept climbing on the primary railings, and the mom got mad at me when I told them to knock it off! Like, do you want your kids to get chomped by a genetically engineered dinosaur, Brenda? Then, she asked for my manager, and I’m like, ‘Bitch, I will literally throw you in the damn tank! There, that’s my manager, you entitled piece of-- ughhh!!” (Y/N) buried her face in Tsukishima’s shoulder in frustration. “I hate customer service! Fuck her! Fuck them kids!”

“You said that to her?” he teased. Secretly, he was happy that she was tired today. A Tired (Y/N) meant a Sweet (Y/N), and after those creeps were leering at her in the box today, he was just glad she was somewhere he could keep an eye on her.

“Suck my dick, Kei, you know I wouldn’t actually say that. I still enjoy getting paychecks,” her words were muffled by his shoulder. ‘Sweet’ is a relative term for her.

“I’d pay good money to see you cuss someone out.”

“You would, wouldn’t you,” she replied.

Tsukishima desperately wanted to tell her how he felt. It was getting really irritating that they could do stuff like this, but he couldn’t tell those sweaty old men in the box today to keep their perverted stares off of her.

Tentatively, he turned his head towards her, lips ghosting along her jawline. His heart sped up as her fingers tightened into his dress shirt.

When his arm slid around her waist, she was like putty in his hands.

“You-- You’re kinda giving me mixed signals here, Kei,” she said breathlessly. The taller male placed his forehead against hers. His eyes stared down at her lips as he debated the long-term consequences of giving into his desires.

“I know,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.”

(Y/N) brought her hand up to cup his face. They both leaned in slowly, as if moving any faster would ruin the tension.

“Don’t be…” she whispered.

The office door slammed open with a bang.

“Sir?” (Y/N) jumped back from him like she’d been burned.

“What?” he snapped at the intruder.

“Your father wants you and Miss (L/N) in a meeting right away.”

“Tsukishima-san, I don’t see why--”

“Of course you don’t, (Y/N),” Kei’s father cut her off, “You have a personal connection with the animal. That was the one oversight I made when I brought you to the island as a trainer.”

They sat in a boardroom, surrounding a large table with Tsukishima senior at one end, (Y/N) at the other, and the board members on either side. The blazing sunlight of Isla Nublar that shone in through the large floor-to-ceiling windows on the far side of the room contrasted heavily with the dark tension permeating throughout the room. Kei tapped his fingers against the table from his spot on his father’s right side.

Of all the ‘strategic investments’ his father made, this was definitely not one Kei could have predicted.

The girl took a deep breath, “With all due respect, sir, it can’t be a good idea to reinvent a new species of mosasaur. I think--”

“See, that’s the problem, sweetheart,” the sweaty man from before chimed in. “You’re not here to think, you’re here to look pretty, and to tell the dinosaur what to do.”

“I don’t appreciate your tone, Yamada.”

“I don’t appreciate your attitude, little girl,” he shot back.

Tsukishima Senior cut in, “Try to understand, (Y/N). The Indominus Rex has been a huge hit. The numbers say that these new hybrid dinosaurs are the next big thing. We can’t pass up an astronomical amount of money just so you can keep your pet.”

“My pet?” (Y/N) spat.

“Now, (Y/N), there’s no need to get hysterical.”

“Hysterical? My reaction is perfectly reasonable considering you want to euthanize the creature I’ve raised since birth, which, may I remind you, is something you people wanted me to do.”

“Doctor Wu and the rest of the genetics team is already engineering the genetics for a new mosasaur. Bigger, more teeth--”

“But they couldn’t engineer any more brain cells for all of you?!” she interjected.

“That’s enough!” CEO Tsukishima slammed his hand on the meeting table. “You’re like a daughter to me, (Y/N), but I won’t take this level of disrespect from you.”

(Y/N) rested her hands atop the table and leaned in, meeting his glare head-on.

“If you want to do anything to Dolly, you’ll need my help, and I will not do anything that can compromise her.”

“What a mouthy little thing,” one of the shareholders muttered.

“Give her to me, I’ll shut her up,” another said loudly enough for everyone to hear.

Tsukishima took a deep, stabilizing breath from beside his father.

“I chose you because I saw something in you. I never expected you to be this selfish,” the elder snapped, “You’re being unreasonable. Kei is barely older than you, and he understands that there’s profit to be made by replacing the damn dinosaur. Tell her, Kei.”

The room went silent. (Y/N) stared deeply into her friend’s golden brown eyes.

‘Don’t do this, Kei. They want you to become your father, but you are not your father. You are so much more.’

The younger Tsukishima felt like he was being crushed by an incredible weight. Whatever he did now, it would be nearly impossible to take back. If he chose her, his father may never forgive him. The problem was: If he chose his place as his father’s heir, would he ruin his relationship with (Y/N) forever? Which one of them could he live without? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them. His steady gaze met with (Y/N)’s intense stare. He hoped he sounded more sure than he felt.

“Yes, (Y/N). My father’s right.”

(Y/N) first looked surprised, then immensely disappointed. Realizing there was no one on her side, she sighed.

“I came to this island because I thought this company might be different. When you asked me to train the mosasaurus from birth, I was overjoyed at how much you cared for her development,” she made sure to stare into the soul of each and every dirty scoundrel in the room. “But I made a mistake, too. All of you are cowards. Selfish, soulless, money-grubbing cowards.” Blazing eyes finally landed on Kei’s wide golden brown ones. She aimed her final statement at him.

“Every last one of you.”

Kei’s heart squeezed so hard he thought his chest would collapse.

“Tsukishima-san!” a mousey-looking secretary burst into the boardroom. CEO Tsukishima clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“What is it now?” he snapped.

“It’s the Indominus! She’s escaped!”

Deafening alarms and flashing red lights resounded throughout the control room. Kei could barely hear his father barking orders to the security team. One of the technicians pulled up a giant map of the park on the main screen.

“She’s still on the outer edges of the park, but she’s moving fast, sir,” they said.

“Have the Asset Containment Unit get this thing under control. Make sure they use non-lethals.”

“Non-lethals!” (Y/N) yelled, outraged.

“We have 26 million dollars invested in that asset,” the elder Tsukishima growled.

Exasperated, (Y/N) threw her hands in the air. She avoided Kei’s eyes as she

turned and sprinted out of the control room.

Kei hesitated. Before he could chase after her, his father ordered him to stay put to help in the control room. Though it made him feel like he wanted to vomit, he obeyed.

Several hours passed and Tsukishima’s mind felt like it was at its breaking point. The monitors flashing red in the dimly lit control room strained his eyes to the point where he was convinced he’d need a stronger prescription after this. The beeping of the ACU team’s EKG monitors flatlining rang in his ears so loud he wished he would just go deaf. The Indominus was picking off their security team with ease, sometimes several members at a time. The young man rubbed at his temples.

“Tsukishima, we’re evacuating the rides on the outer edges at the park,” the lead Park Operations Assistant slid a map over to him. Taking a red marker, she circled a few attractions directly in the escaped dinosaur’s projected path.

“But I think these preparations insufficient,” she said, nervously twisting

the pen in her grip.

“We’d evacuate the whole park if it were up to me,” Tsukishima said under

his breath.

The assistant pursed her lips, “It’s a shame we’ll definitely be shut down

after this. You would have made a great CEO.”

“Are you flirting with me?” the blonde joked.

“Please, you’re so whipped for (Y/N) it hurts to look at you,” the assistant snorted in reply.

Before Tsukishima could make a snarky retort, both of their attentions were drawn to CEO Tsukishima, who had a large, middle aged man at his side.

“Kei, come over here!” the older man called.

Tsukishima handed the map back over to the assistant, “This is fine for now. If the situation escalates or if it doesn’t improve in an hour or so, close all the attractions on the west side of the park. I’ll be right back.”

The assistant grabbed his arm, “Tsukishima, that’s Vic Hoskins, the head of the private security force.”

“My father introduced us not long ago. What about him?”

“Commander Hoskins isn’t just a brute, he’s an ignorant one, and that makes him dangerous. If your father is listening to him, be careful.”

Tsukishima nodded gratefully.

“I will. I’ll be right back.”

He didn’t wait for the assistant’s reply before making his way to his father’s side, who pulled him off to the side. Hoskins had apparently taken his leave.

“The helicopter will be here in 10 minutes, make sure you’re at the helipad by then,” he told his son.

The younger Tsukishima’s eyes widened.

“What? Where are we going?” he asked.

His father turned to him, “Commander Hoskins has strongly advised us to get off the island. We can do our part in containing this crisis remotely.”

The younger man blanched, “We’re just going to leave? We still have people to evacuate, not to mention medical teams to coordinate, personnel to--”

CEO Tsukishima placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, “We can do all of these things remotely. Our first priority is maintaining our safety, and besides, the situation is in good hands with our employees here. It’s as good as contained.”

The CEO smiled and turned to leave. Kei didn’t move.

“Come on, Kei,” the older man urged.

Tsukishima took a deep breath.

“If the situation is ‘as good as contained,’ then why are we leaving the island?” he asked.

His father sighed, “I understand your concern, Kei, this is a safety issue--”

“So, you agree? You do think that evacuation is the correct safety measure?” Kei looked his father directly in his familiar amber eyes.

The elder shifted, “What are you implying, Kei?”

“I’m saying as long as we choose not to actively evacuate the island, we have a responsibility to our employees and to our guests to stay and control the situation the best we can.”

The flatlining EKG monitors were still ringing in his ears. If he left the island now, he’d never stop hearing the beeping of those monitors. They’d exist in his nightmares forever.

“Stay here, then, Kei,” his father’s voice broke him out of his thoughts.

He raised a brow, “Just me?”

“There’s no point to being in power if you refuse to reap the benefits of it. The helicopter is leaving soon. Join me, Kei. Don’t try to play hero when you’re not.”

(Y/N)’s face flashed in his mind. He couldn’t be sure where she ran off to after she left, but if he had to guess, it would have been to the main hall or to the infirmary to care for guests. Either way, she’d never dream of leaving the island with so much at stake. Neither could he, and the thought of leaving her behind made his answer clear.

“No, I’m not going. Have a safe flight.” He turned on his heel and marched back to the central console. To his horror, Asset Containment Unit Alpha had been almost entirely wiped out. Only 4 members of a 12-person team remained.

“They’re not gonna make it, Tsukishima, we need to tell them to pull back,” the P.O. Assistant insisted.

He nodded, “Do it.”

The woman quickly gave the order. “Has your father finally--”

“My father is vacating the island with the board members and other investors as we speak,” Tsukishima said.

“Why am I not--” the assistant’s phone went off. “Hello? ...You what?”

“What happened?”

She snapped her phone shut, “It’s--it’s Takeru, my nephew. He was visiting the park today, but my assistant says he got separated from her, and-- and--”

“Hey,” he grabbed her shoulders. “Don’t freak out. It’s not like you, and it won’t help.”

“You’re right,” she said shakily, brushing a lock of hair from her eyes. “I know I have work to do here, but I have to go find him, Tsukishima. I can’t--”

“I get it. Just go.”

The assistant nodded gratefully, sprinting out of the board room. As she

left, yet another assistant came for his attention and he was plunged back into the thick of things.

Meanwhile, (Y/N) stood at the doors of the underground lab. Her eyes were wild and her face flushed from exertion. The pristine, white lab was a stark contrast to the sweaty, panicked mob she passed by on her way here. It was as if the panic of the Indominus’s escape had no effect, save for the swarm of people in lab coats quickly packing up their equipment into thick armored suitcases. With the move in full swing, the lab doors were set wide open. In the chaos, she managed to slip into one of the adjoining storage rooms, where she found a large computer monitor. The bright blue screen was blinding in the dimly lit room. A profile displayed on the screen read “Indominus Rex.”

The young woman scrolled down the profile. She had to find out what the dinosaur was made of. The ACU would never survive without that information. They may not even survive with it. Finally, under the section titled “Genetic Makeup”, she found what she’s looking for. Before she could react to her findings, there was a sharp pain in the skill and she dropped to the ground unconscious.

Back in the control room, Kei gripped his cell phone tightly. Eighteen missed calls and (Y/N) still wouldn’t pick up. He couldn’t fight it anymore. He had a tech trace her cellphone and he hastily exited the room.

Once he left the building, Kei was greeted with what he expected hell looked like. There was a swarm of panicked park guests, sweaty and fearful. Several were injured from the sudden panic. Some had a haunted look in their eye that suggested they’d seen something that would haunt their nightmares for years to come. And where was his father? Safe on a helicopter, leaving all these people to fend for themselves simply because he could.

Kei was disgusted with himself. The Indominus had escaped hours ago. All this chaos could have been avoided by simply evacuating the park. But who cared about people’s lives when there was still profit to be made? Sure, he hadn’t actively supported his father’s selfishness, but he definitely didn’t object to it either. In all his indecision, ultimately, he was siding with his father. He was equally to blame for all this.

As Kei entered the underground tunnels, the screaming and cries of the panicked went silent. He realized he could hide away in the tunnels until the situation had blown over. Instead, Kei chose to press forward, knowing it wasn’t fair that he had that luxury.

The Mosasaur Stadium sat in the middle of the underground tunnels. From his view from the glass, Dolly, like her trainer, was nowhere to be found.

By the time Kei made it to the lab, it had been picked clean of equipment and personnel. All that remained were sterilized lab benches and pristine white walls. He found (Y/N) on the floor of an empty storage room. There was a nasty gash in the back of her head.

Kei kneeled and gently put two fingers to her pulse.

“Wake up!” he snapped at her. To his relief, her eyelids fluttered open. “Thank god. What the hell were you doing down here?”

“Ouch, my head,” she moaned. “I thought… the ACU… If they knew what the Indominus was made of…”

Kei nodded in understanding. He removed his tie to apply pressure to her wound.

“And? What is it?”

(Y/N) shook her head.

“I dunno. I think they hit me right as I saw.”

(Y/N) sat up, slowly regaining her strength.

“How much of the park has been evacuated?” she asked.

Kei checked his messages, “Almost everyone has been moved to secure locations or off the island completely.”

“What’s left?”

“The control room.”

She looked at him meaningfully and he nodded in agreement. Quickly dialing a number, he raised the phone to his ear.

“Evacuate the control room,” he said.

“Sir, are you sure?” the voice on the other end replied.

“Positive. I’ll take care of everything when I get there,” Kei reassured.

“...take care, sir,” the voice said reluctantly.

“You too.” Tsukishima ended the call and looked at (Y/N), who was already standing. She steadied herself against a wall, her balance wavered slightly, but her eyes were resolute.

“Let’s see what we can do.”

The underground tunnels were expansive. As the mosasaur trainer stalked down the hall ahead of him, Kei forced himself to speak up.

“I couldn’t, you know,” Tsukishima said.

“If you have to talk to me, say shit that makes sense,” (Y/N) snapped.

“My father. He wanted me to evacuate with him, but--”

“What? You could’ve gotten out of here! Do you have any idea how hard shit’s hit the fan?”

“I needed to know you were okay.”

(Y/N)’s expression softened for just a moment, then she ripped her gaze from his face. She retorted, “Why? You don’t seem to have a problem with hanging me out to dry.”

“(Y/N), I was--”

“Would you have left if not for me?” she demanded, stopping and facing him with her arms crossed.

It took Kei a minute to find an honest answer.

“No. I wouldn’t have. I’m rich, I’m an asshole, but I wouldn’t have left all these people. Not when I have the kind of clearance to help them, and especially not since all this is my fault.”

(Y/N) looked at him, bewildered.

“Your fault? How on Earth is this your fault?”

Kei shrugged, “I knew evacuation was the only safe bet, but I was too much of a coward to tell my father so. At least my father is blinded by money. Me, I don’t have an excuse.”

(Y/N) walked on silently for a while, opening her mouth a few times to speak, but shutting it each time. Eventually, she gave into the silence.

They came to the underground stadium, where the massive fiberglass panes housed the park’s biggest attraction.

(Y/N) placed her hand on the glass.

“Dolly… You okay, girl?”

Something enormous splashed into the water. When the bubbles cleared, there was Dolly, swimming around the bitten carcass of a pterosaur, as if she was celebrating her catch. The reptile’s handler smiled weakly.

“Good girl.”

“(Y/N).”

Tsukishima took her by the shoulders and spun her around to face him. His tired eyes met hers. The blonde watched as the only person who really mattered to him glared back with a look of sadness, frustration, and betrayal.

“You would have supported them?” she asked sharply.”

“Look, I’ve been trained to follow orders my whole life--”

“And I’m sorry for that. But you can unlearn what you’ve been taught, Kei. You know how much I love Dolly! You knew, and-- and,” she gripped his shirt. The trainer hung her head in defeat.

“I thought you weren’t like your father.”

“I’m not, I promise. I’m sorry,” he whispered. This was it. He had to tell her. If he didn’t do it now, he never would.

“(Y/N), I lo--”

“No!”

Kei looked stunned, “No?”

“No! Dammit, Kei, I can’t do this with you right now. First, this is not the time. Second, you stabbed me in the back, like, two hours ago!

“I said I was sorry!”

“I get that, Kei, but for important shit like this, sorry just isn’t good enough, okay? Now, let’s get to the control room and get this dinosaur under wraps, then maybe we can have this conversation.”

Tsukishima pursed his lips, “Okay. Okay, I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

(Y/N) kept walking down the corridor, “Don’t be. Let’s just deal with the situation at hand.” The trainer produced a flip phone from her pocket. The person she was calling picked up on the third ring and she put the call on speaker.

“(Y/N)!” the familiar voice called in relief.

“Yama! You’re still doing okay?” she asked. The line went quiet for a while,

“Yams?” Another pause before the intern responded, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

She and Tsukishima looked at each other, “Yama, what happened? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m not hurt, I just… Oh god, (Y/N), it’s Hinata,” Yamaguchi’s voice

cracked at the end.

(Y/N)’s breath caught in her throat, “What happened to Hinata?”

On the other end, she could hear Yamaguchi choking back a sob.

“He went to the aviary to check for survivors and I saw his vitals monitor. He’s flatlined, (Y/N), he’s dead.”

Tsukishima closed his eyes. The whole situation was snowballing so damn fast and there was so little anyone could do about it.

“No…” (Y/N) whispered, “Jesus, I’m sorry, Yama.”

“Me too,” he replied. Yamaguchi sniffled, then his voice stabilized, “Anyway, keep making your way to the control room. I’ll get into the database somehow and we’ll figure out how to stop this thing.”

“Got it. Please be-- ...careful,” she said softly.

“(Y/N)?”

She clutched her head, “It’s coming back to me now… Yamaguchi! The Indominus! I saw it on the database, could it be part raptor?”

On the other side, Yamagichi gasped, “They never let me see the file, but now that I think about it, it’s highly likely! I’ll contact Iwaizumi and see if there’s anything he can help with! Let me know if anything changes!”

“I will. Please be careful,” she begged.

“I will, and you, too, (Y/N). Tell Tsukki I love him.”

“I love you, too, Yamaguchi,” Kei replied. With that, the call clicked off.

(Y/N) inhaled deeply, “Hinata’s dead.”

“I heard.”

She shook her head, “Let’s just keep moving. I--”

Her eyes fixed on the tank where Dolly had just leapt out of the water for prey again. Bubbles flooded their view as the massive dinosaur crashed back down into her tank. (Y/N)’s mouth dropped open.

“Holy shit.”

“What is it?”

(Y/N) started sprinting down the corridor towards the control room, “I have an idea!”

‘You better know what you’re doing, (Y/N),’ Tsukishima thought. He paced the floor of the control room nervously as he waited for the signal.

Their plan was well underway, and it had gone surprisingly well, which was all the more reason for him to feel like something was going to go horribly wrong.

When (Y/N) originally told him what the plan was, his response was, “Fuck no,” but after Yamaguchi and Iwaizumi both agreed that it was their best bet, Kei relented, though not without voicing his displeasure extensively.

That girl was really lucky he L-worded her. Through the security monitors, he could see the T-Rex and the Raptors were tag-teaming the Indominus. They seemed to be making progress, but the whole group looked like they were losing steam.

The radio beside him crackled to life, making him jump.

“Kei? Can you hear me?” (Y/N)’s voice came through the machine.

“Loud and clear.”

“Okay, on my signal, cut the power to Security Fence 4.”

The button was red, marked with bold black letters, and had a plexiglass case over it. Kei pressed the “disable” button, making the screen read, ‘UNAUTHORIZED COMMAND: Please enter credentials.’ He typed, ‘Tsukishima Kei,’ placing his hand on the biometric scanner when prompted.

‘MANUAL OVERRIDE: Accepted

All the previously red buttons turned green.

“Okay. Ready when you are.”

“Good. Now, listen to me, Kei,” she said grimly, “You have to cut the power the moment I tell you to. The system has a backup generator that will kick in within 30 seconds. If it's electrified when we hit it, the jeep will explode and our whole plan is shot. That fence can NOT, I repeat, CAN NOT be electrified when I get there, do you understand?”

The male nodded weakly, then, realizing she couldn’t see him, said his affirmation aloud. The radio went quiet. On the screens, the Indominus dug it’s rows of razor sharp teeth into the T-Rex’s neck, throwing the creature as far as it would go. The T-Rex lay there and did not move.

The Indominus Rex roared in victory and went in for the kill. There was a bright flash of red further away as someone offscreen lit a flare. The light became brighter as the person neared (Y/N) and they tossed it into the jeep, catching the Indominus’s attention.

Turning away from it’s prize, the hybrid screeched in rage and took off towards the light. (Y/N) hopped out of the driver’s seat, placing something on the gas pedal and diving away from the vehicle.

‘It might be better if I stay in the jeep and drive it myself,’ he remembered her saying back in the control room.

‘Better for you dying. If the impact with the fence doesn’t kill you, you’ll either drown or Dolly will eat you,’ he’d snapped.

‘But what if--’

He cut her off, ‘But nothing. Put a brick on the gas and move out of the way. There’s no reason to put you in any further danger.’

Amazingly, Kei was the one who won that debate and that’s what brought them to the present moment, with (Y/N) scrambling up off the floor and sprinting out of the Indominus’s path.

The hybrid dinosaur sprinted after the jeep that was speeding towards the mosasaur tank. The distance between the two was closing at an alarming rate.

Just before the vehicle made contact with the security fence, the radio crackled to life, “Now, Kei!”

Tsukishima slammed the button.

‘SECURITY FENCE 4: Disabled’

Just before it made contact with the fence, the jeep’s metal frame crunched under the Indominus’s powerful jaws.

“Fuck!” Kei yelled at the sight. A few seconds later, the buttons turned back to red and the screen read, ‘SECURITY FENCE 4: Enabled.’

“Well, what now?” he yelled into the radio.

“Uh, I don’t--! Fuck-- I don’t know, I’m out of ideas!” she cried in response.

Having been given a break, one of the raptors jumped in, ready to finish the fight. The creature leapt into action to subdue the murderous hybrid, but with that size difference, she wouldn’t last long.

On the verge of panic, (Y/N) said, “If the jeep broke through the fence, Dolly would have noticed the prey, but the Indominus by itself hasn’t gotten her attention! She must be too deep!”

“Well, then, get her attention!” he shot back.

(Y/N) gasped, yanking her whistle out from inside her windbreaker, “Hold me up to the main PA.”

He reached over and jabbed the button.

(Y/N) looked up when she heard his voice over the speakers spread throughout the park, “Whenever you’re ready.”

As Kei keld the radio up to the PA, (Y/N) put her whistle to her lips and blew as hard as she could, the sound undetectable by human ears. They waited with baited breath as the Indominus flung the raptor aside, where the smaller reptile did not get up. The Indominus stopped and let out another bloodcurdling roar.

When nothing more happened, all Kei could think was, ‘We failed.’

Just then, quicker than Kei could comprehend, an incredible volume of water overtook his field of view. Water droplets obscured the CCTV cameras giving him a view of the action, and when they cleared, it took him a moment to register the massive aquatic dinosaur protruding halfway out of its paddock. It held the silver, spiny-backed hybrid in its ginormous maw of thousands of teeth. Crushed by a predator honed by millions of years of evolution, the Indominus writhed in pain and panic, but its struggle only opened more wounds in its flank. It screeched in pain or terror or frustration, Kei wasn’t sure. The only thing that mattered was the slick sound of Dolly sliding backwards into her enclosure, taking her prey with her. All that was left was dark purple blood, soaked pavement, a broken fence still sparking, and a crushed jeep.

“Holy shit,” Tsukishima whispered.

“Holy shit,” (Y/N) murmured in agreement before her knees gave out and she fell to the floor unconscious.

With the Indominus gone and the pterosaurs having been hunted down by the military, park guests were being reunited with their friends and family. Rescue teams were sent to canvas the park for survivors, though they were advised not to get too close to the mosasaur tank. Tsukishima shuddered, knowing that the mosasaurus was always fully capable of leaping halfway out of its tank, she simply chose not to, perhaps out of respect for (Y/N). If, by some miracle, the park survived, he’d have to enforce some serious regulations.

“Tsukishima-san?” one of the surviving guards came to collect him. Conveniently, Kei’s general demeanor kept him from flinching at being addressed the way he heard everyone address his father. The guard led him to a private section of the infirmary, where he saw (Y/N) sitting on a cot looking like she’d spent the last 10 hours in a ditch, though her injuries otherwise looked far from anything life threatening.

“Oh, relax, I’m fine,” she said when she saw the look on his face. “I just got myself all scratched up jumping out of the jeep. I’m not even that hurt.”

Kei scooped her up in his arms in relief.

“Okay, owie, owie, I’m not completely unharmed, stop, stop, stop,” she whined.

The tall male pulled back and stared down at her. The left side of her face has several cuts and she held an ice pack to her ribs on the same side. She had heavy bags under her eyes, but those same eyes shone with relief and delight now that the whole ordeal was over.

“I’d ask if you had brain damage, but you must’ve already had some to come up with such a reckless plan,” he scolded.

(Y/N) gaped at him, “Reckless? It worked! Don’t be mean, Kei, I did good today.”

“You would have done great today if you hadn’t come back to me injured.”

“Again, it worked, didn’t it?”

“I suppose,” he rolled his eyes. “But it would really do wonders for my blood pressure if the person I care about most didn’t have such self-destructive tendencies.”

She grinned at his choice of words, “What was that you called me just now?”

“Self-destructive.” Chuckling, he took her hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it. “Are we gonna be okay?” he asked, not making eye contact with her.

Content, the girl smiled and nestled against her pillows. Her eyes slowly drifted shut.

“We’re gonna be just fine, Kei,” she replied. For a moment he thought she didn’t quite understand what he meant until she squeezed his hand gently. Tsukishima smiled in relief, squeezing her hand back.

“Kei?”

“Hmm?”

“I feel the same way.”

@delicious-peaches-blog

@unusproomnibusomnesprouno

@mac-the-oregonian

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you

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knightofameris · 4 years

Text

naturally — sugawara koushi

✎ gender. uhm neutral? ✎ contains. mutual pining, childhood friends, reader is a manager, also reader has a lot of anxiety when it comes to relationships, not beta read ✎ wc. 1.6k

✎ summary. the time you were thankfully wrong in your assumptions.

✎ ameris’ notes. i came back just to post this because this is my favorite piece I’ve written so far on this blog i think. also noticed many writers deactivating ;—; and just a lack of content (esp for suga). i was originally going to post this when i came back fully along with everything else but this is fine. (i will reply to all messages later <3 thank you everyone for your kind words)

also tried a different writing style for this,,,

i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it. ♡

previous title: i thought we already were [i still suck at titles this might still change]

You couldn’t help but slam your head against your desk. Ennoshita sighed at your predicament when it came to the crush you had on your upperclassman, Sugawara Koushi. Except, to you he was so much more. Not in just the fact that he was your crush but he’s been someone you’ve known for almost your entire life.

“What if he doesn’t like me, Ennoshita,” you cried into your arms, not able to take the heartbreak that could come with Sugawara rejecting your feelings and your 10+ year friendship turning to dogshit.

Ennoshita tapped his fingers against the desk, “I don’t think he’d break off your friendship just like that even if he didn’t. And if he doesn’t like you I personally give you permission to murder myself and-or Tanaka, your choice.”

In a different class at the time, Tanaka sneezed in the middle of eating his sandwich.

At this point, Ennoshita, and every other club member, was tired. Even Sugawara would shrug when Daichi asked him in the clubroom what was going on between him and you. Asahi, the one who was possibly the most oblivious when it came to people pining for another, was even frustrated at how the two of you would dance around each other.

“Why don’t you just ask them out?” Asahi asked Sugawara. In the middle of changing, Sugawara stopped in thought, his shirt barely on.

“Hmm, I don’t want to ask them before they’re ready,” Sugawara answered simply, sliding his shirt on over his head.

It was a rough life being friends with both you and Sugawara.

It was sort of sweet though, no? The fact that Sugawara wanted to wait till you were ready. He knew about your anxieties when it came to relationships. It wasn’t that your past relationships were bad, per se, but rather any time you’d enter one the anxieties just came through. Sometimes it’d be insecurities or suddenly the red flags would pop up. It was as if entering the relationship made you realize how much of a terrible person the other was.

You didn’t want that for Koushi. So he’d wait, wait till you’re comfortable to talk things out. But he will admit that it is maybe a little frustrating some days.

Especially, especially, the days when you’re closer than usually. Physically. Emotionally.

Some days you’d find yourself lying in Koushi’s bed after finishing a bit of homework. He’d be sitting on the floor at the table, still working the last few problems. You’d both have a small conversation, something to fill the room while he finished up. Then he’d crawl into bed, next to you.

“Just like when we were kids, right?” He’d grin at you, and you couldn’t help the way you felt your cheeks heat up.

“Yeah, just like when we were kids,” you’d reply and reach out for his hands, shifting to lay on your side. Koushi doing the same and inching even closer to you. He’d bring your hands up to chest level, playing with your fingers just like he’d do when the two of you were younger.

And then the two of you would fall asleep. His arm draped over your waist, pulling you close into his chest with your legs tangled with his.

You always fell asleep last, always so anxious about the whole ordeal. It’s different sleeping and cuddling together when you’re older compared to when you were both younger.

When you were younger it was just platonic feelings. And now that you’re both older and know about romantic feelings, well, something bloomed between the two of you.

Before you’d fall asleep you’d stare up at his soft face, your fingers slightly hovering over his face and especially over the beauty mark that you loved so much. He was no longer embarrassed about it like he used to be (because of you and your adoration for it). Then your hand would return back to resting on his chest and you’d nuzzle your head into him as well.

Koushi’s breathing always soothed you; it was deep and heavy. Always peaceful as you watched his chest rise and fall. You nuzzled your face into him even deeper if it was possible, your fingers lightly tapping against his sturdy chest.

He smelled a bit like lavender. It was subtle, sweet and calming. There were a few other scents too but they weren’t overbearing and never quite lingered in your nose like the lavender scent. And whenever you think about him, you just think of Koushi’s lavender scent as well as how he smelled like home.

Home.

Yeah, being with him felt like home. Even when—no—especially when your own home didn’t feel like home. You felt comfortable with him, like it was you and him versus the world. This felt natural, normal.

The lingering glances, the subtle touches.

I think it was safe to say that you’re in love. You felt stupid for saying so, even thinking so. You are in high school, barely seventeen as a second year. People would always cringe when high schoolers said they were in love.

But no one can invalidate your feelings. Only you knew what you felt and no one could say otherwise.

You’re in love with Sugawara Koushi and it didn’t scare you.

You’re in love with Sugawara Koushi and it comforted you.

You knew him better than you knew yourself and you were sure he felt the same about you, knowing you well, I mean. You still weren’t sure if he returned your feelings.

That’s how you found yourself outside his house, standing in front of him. Sugawara stared at you, head tilted with confusion since usually the two of you would just head in to get started on homework.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his hand reaching for yours. He called out for you again, your name gracing his lips. His thumb rubbed small circles on the back of your hand and you looked down off to the side, scared and unsure.

“I-uhm,” your heart felt like it was going to leap out of your throat. Speaking was hard, and god you don’t think you could stare up at him while you confessed your feelings.

Rip it off like a bandaid. Just rip it off like a bandaid. Just. Rip it off! LIKE A—

With closed eyes and your hand clasping around his, you stuttered out, “I-I-uh-I really like you Koushi! It’s-It’s fine if you don’t, y’know, feel the same. I just-I just had to tell you.”

You pursed your lips and the small caresses on the back of your hand stopped. Good thing you planned to do this before entering into his house. Now you could just book it home. But then he laughed and his hand holding yours tightened back before you could run off; as if he knew you were going to do so.

You just confessed to Sugawara Koushi and he’s laughing. You felt like crying, honestly.

But Koushi was laughing because he was relieved. Relieved that he didn’t have to hold back anymore, that he no longer had to wait. Koushi had wanted you to make the first move because he already knew you liked him. He just wanted you to feel comfortable enough with your feelings before anything else happened.

All of the soft touches, the cuddling, the approaching you from behind and hugging you as you do manager work, Koushi let happen naturally. Because they were natural. It’s not like you didn’t do it back.

Whenever he’d be on break, drinking water he’d find your arms wrapped around his torso no matter how sweaty he was. Or on bus rides to practice matches or to the Sendai gym for games the two of you would sit next to each other and one of you would always fall asleep with your head resting against the other’s shoulder.

And you know, maybe Koushi was partially laughing at the fact that you couldn’t tell he likes you back. He thought it was obvious at least.

“Wh-what are you laughing about Koushi!” You pouted, tears slightly gathering at the corner of your eyes out of anxiety and fear of rejection.

“No, no, nothing bad, you’re so cute,” he sighed out, a smile apparent on his face as he took a step closer to you. “It’s just that-” he gestures with his free hand back and forth between you and himself “-I thought you knew I liked you. Because I knew you liked me. And with how we’ve been cuddling and—”

“Ah!” You shouted, lightly hitting his chest with your free hand. He let out an ‘oof’ before you placed your head against his chest out of embarrassment. You felt his chest reverberate as he laughed, his other hand coming up to rest on the top of your head, his fingers drawing soothing circles on your scalp.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, your voice muffled against his chest. Koushi sighed, the corners of his lips tugging upwards.

“I thought we already were, y’know, together? I just wasn’t too sure,” Koushi replied. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable either. Wanted to wait till you were comfortable.”

“What if I never was?”

“I’d wait forever then.”

You huffed against his chest, wrapping your other arm around him, the hand holding his tightening. Koushi set his arm around your back, pulling you in closer as he turned to place his cheek against your head.

“You’re cheesy, Kou.” y

“Only for you.” He turned his head to kiss the crown of yours before laying his cheek against you once more. “Now let’s go inside, get some homework done and cuddle some more.”

“I hate you.”

Koushi hummed, being the first to pull away, holding your hand tightly to walk towards his house, “Whatever you say. I know you don’t.”

✎ ameris’ notes. a scene straight from my and my friends’ self-ship AU that I thought could work well as a reader-insert LOL. shifted it around so that their characters (themself?) don’t appear. actually well, it’s not really straight from it. i haven’t written this part in the AU but i wanted to write it anyway hahdfkjhakjfh LOL i tried my best not to make reader too much like myself, i only used part of the reason for relationship anxiety of mine looool.

#sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara koshi x reader #sugawara koushi x male!reader #sugawara koshi x male!reader #sugawara koushi x neutral!reader #sugawara koshi x neutral!reader #sugawara koushi fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male!reader #haikyuu x neutral!reader #a.writes #💜.suga

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merryfortune · 3 years

Text

You give me flowers of love

Written for 100ships Challenge on Dreamwidth

Prompt #39 - Pink

Ship: Nodoka/Hinata

Fandom: Healin’ Good PreCure

Word Count: 3,757

Rating: M

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

AN: title comes from Bloodflowers by The Cure and is recommended listening for this fic.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Hanahaki, Horror, Gore, Emetophobia/Emetophilia, Angst and Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Past/Referenced Eriko/Hinata, Minor Blood

Hinata was not the type of girl who could handle horror stories, urban legends, or anything spookier than a rom-com set against the background of a popular coffee shop. However, there was something about this creepypasta that caught her attention. Maybe she read it to prove that she wasn’t a scaredy-cat or maybe she read it because something about it was almost too real.

It came across her Curestagram feed, screenshots reposted from another site with long form text functions rather than the optimized for photos aesthetic of Curestagram. It wasn’t late at night, quite the opposite, Hinata had just been scrolling as she was half nibbling on a banana muffin for morning tea. So she was kind of bored and not already unsettled by a vague anxiety sort of mindset so she stopped her scroll to read this totally true story from a friend of a friend that had happened upon her timeline.

The story involved a sickness. A lovesickness, hooking Hinata immediately since she was a hopeless romantic and leaving her vulnerable to what was hiding down below a few paragraphs after and Hinata realised she was reading a surreal medical horror story.

Supposedly, some girl from a high school in the next town over had been hospitalized due to damage to her stomach and esophagus but ultimately culminated in her passing away from brain damage due to suffocation. The suffocation that was the outcome of the damage she had taken to her stomach and esophagus had, supposedly, been caused by the growing of flowers inside of her. Doctors couldn’t explain it. They were baffled by the impossibility of it. Yet where they failed to posit theories at all, their patient had her own she desperately desired to reveal.

The nameless girl, as weak as she was in her final moments of speech and cognition, was certain with the most crystal clear clarity that she could muster said that reason for the flowers growing inside of her was due to a crush that she had been fostering for quite some time. A crush that was so powerful and deep that it had manifested as literal and impossible distress in the form of tiger lily flowers. Though her claims were dismissed as nonsense, despite the very given evidence that she had been vomiting exotic flowers, except by the narrator who was sharing her story online on her behalf.

Hinata got to the bottom line of the final screenshot and she dropped her phone on the table. She shivered and flinched as her phone clattered. Nyatoran looked up, alarmed, from the milk that he had been sipping.

“Heh? Are you okay Hinata?” he asked.

“Y-Yeah, I just lost my grip.” Hinata replied. It wasn’t a lie.

“Really? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Nyatoran pointed out.

Hinata made an expression that was both guilty and embarrassed, “Er, sort of… I read a ghost story online and I haven’t the stomach for them.”

“Oh, well, no worries then. I’ll keep ya safe from all the ghoulies then.” Nyatoran boasted.

Hinata laughed, “Thanks, Nyatoran.” she replied.

And that was more or less enough to keep her mind off what she had read for the rest of the day as she did her Sunday homework and such. At least until well after lights out.

Hinata cursed herself. She knew endless walls of text in screenshots never bore good news but it was under her skin now. It wasn’t even that scary, she tried to convince herself. It just so happened to play off something she had been thinking about in ways that cut deep and yes, even scary.

Hinata had a crush of her own. One she didn’t think she ought to act on. Or didn’t know how to act on.

Hinata had a crush on Nodoka. She was sweet and gentle yet so motivated. Hinata felt like she learned something new about either herself or Nodoka after every time they hung out. Things never felt old between them despite how natural their companionship was between them.

Catching feelings for Nodoka was inevitable, Hinata felt regarding their dynamic as close friends and their friendship was relatively intense due to their bond as comrades being Pretty Cures but that made Hinata sick to her stomach with fear. This wasn’t her first crush that she had on another girl.

In the not so recent past, Hinata had been wrong reading other girls’ opinions and feelings regarding her before. She and Eriko had been so close, childhood friends with a pact that seemed fit to stand the test of time when they had made it, and Hinata didn’t think it was a coincidence that already scarce contact between them after Eriko moved was when Hinata had confessed her feelings to Eriko.

The rejection had been crushing and Hinata had never told a soul about it. The wound was older now but it still hurt so, as lovely as Nodoka was, Hinata didn’t want to gamble their friendship due to that prior rejection. Yet her feelings crackled like electricity near a lightning rod whenever she was around Nodoka anyway. She could only hope that Nodoka was oblivious since she was so inexperienced socially due to her childhood spent mostly in the hospital.

(And that Chiyu never brought up the blatantly obvious which she would hopefully never do since she knew there was a place and a time and it wasn’t her place).

Thus, for all these different and entangling reasons, that horror story Hinata had read this morning really resonated. The thought of her unrequited feelings becoming literal, even in the form of pretty and seemingly harmless flowers, and suffocating. It was a very real fear to Hinata despite that fantastical execution that it was captured inside.

All because she was a magical girl infused with the power of light and thunder. She fought villains who caused infections in nature and created monsters. To her, it didn’t seem too far outside of her sphere of tried and true reality that such a floral disease of the body could exist. Heck, maybe it did exist and was tied to the war that she and her friends were fighting in secret on behalf of the Healing Animals. It was entirely possible this flower vomit disease was another agent or power of the Byougens.

Hinata groaned and the more she scolded herself for thinking about these horrible possibilities, the more she thought about them. She tossed and turned all night, in the dark and under the covers of her doona. She knew Nyatoran would live up to his boasting over morning tea if she asked but he was totally conked out in his little room. Hinata couldn’t bring herself to wake him, to unnecessarily burden him, so she just hid from her fears as best as she could in her blankets.

The following morning, Hinata was a wreck. She had bags under her eyes and was generally a drag. She hasn’t slept a wink last night but just like she was hiding from the horror story in her head, she decided to hide from the aftermath too. She touched up her eyes with concealer and finished off her make-up with a nice little kiss of lip balm, too. She chose a nice tropical flavour: pineapple with vanilla undertones and wore nude in practice. With that, she was ready for what was no doubt going to be a long, long day of school.

A prediction that she was very right in having. Just making it to lunch felt like an eternity and a half on low energy. Worst still, despite the precautions that Hinata had taken, both Chiyu and Nodoka had noticed that she wasn’t exactly her bouncy self today. Even with her favourite lunch box in her lap with fried chicken and a fruit drink, too.

“Are you okay, Hinata?” Nodoka asked and she batted her long eyelashes in concern.

Hinata knew she couldn’t lie or deflect around Nodoka, at least for the most part, and deflated, “No…” she moaned. “I slept awfully last night.”

“I expect that it wasn’t due to over studying?” Chiyu asked, sniping.

“No, I just. Couldn’t sleep.” Hinata shrugged.

“Well, be sure to put yourself early to bed tonight then. There’s nothing worse than being tired.” Nodoka said.

“Will do.” Hinata sighed.

“Also?” Nodoka prompted her.

“Yeah?” Hinata glanced at Nodoka was she tried a spoonful of rice from her side dishes.

“Your lip balm has a very strong smell today, I can smell it from here.” Nodoka laughed.

“Oh, joy…” Hinata hung her head in misery. She didn’t think it was so pungent in the tube.

“I didn’t mean that in a mean way.” Nodoka panicked whilst Chiyu had a discrete giggle at Hinata’s misfortune. “I really like it. I think it smells nice. Like cherries. I love the smell of cherries best.”

“Huh?” Hinata mumbled and she stared straight at Nodoka in confusion.

Nodoka stared back. Also in confusion. “Is something the matter?”

“Er, no,” Hinata awkwardly began and she forced herself to laugh and she flapped a hand about too to disguise her weirdness, “I must have been so tired this morning that I though I used one lip balm and instead used another.”

“That is a little odd…” Chiyu murmured.

But Nodoka seemed to buy it, she gasped, “Fwow, you must have been really tired this morning to make such a mistake. Promise me to get a good night’s rest tonight then.” Nodoka fussed for her.

“I promise, I promise.” Hinata replied.

Just as Hinata spoke, the end of lunch bell rang. She moaned with the utmost misery as she hadn’t finished her lunch even slightly and roused much sympathy from both Nodoka and Chiyu. So, Hinata crammed what she could into her mouth and swallowed before returning with her friends indoors to their classroom.

She plopped down in her chair and desk, her stomach growling almost immediately. Were it not for the teacher at the front of the classroom, Hinata would have flopped down and keeled over right there and then. She would have killed for a nap. Not even a luxurious nanna nap at this point, she would take a horrid power nap. Anything would have been better than nothing. Instead, the best she could muster was some daydreaming whilst scribbling in her work book so she could at least pretend to be paying attention.

Her mind strayed to Nodoka. She couldn’t help it. A silly little pining schoolgirl was exactly what she was after all. She doodled Nodoka’s name in her margins, surrounded with love-hearts, paw prints, and even flowers. It was a little bit childish but Hinata was a lot childish so she didn’t mind, she was more or less on cloud nine since Nodoka had shown her care for her over lunch, fussing for her like that.

It was such a small act but it was more than enough to launch Hinata’s heart in a million miles an hour race. So much so, she began to taste something at the back of her throat. It was a sweet taste accompanied by a fizzy sensation. Hinata liked it and it seemed to get stronger the more she daydreamed about Nodoka. Even though it was the middle of class, Hinata was letting her mind completely run away from the contents of what the teacher was attempting to educate on them.

Finally, after what felt like a day of self torment because of reading some stupid horror story about puking flowers, Hinata felt free of that gnawing anxiety. But just as she revelled in this, her stomach wretched. She dry gagged with the searing taste of bile at the back of her throat and her hand automatically clamped over her mouth, pen and all. The prior anxiety might have dissipated but a new one had spiked in its place.

Hinata frowned. Was it because she hadn’t eaten all her lunch that she suddenly felt nauseous? Or was it something else? She begged that it wasn’t her period, she was still quite irregular so this felt off or early to her.

Then she gagged again. She swallowed it back down. Hard. Whatever she swallowed was thick and sweet. It wasn’t vomit, Hinata had the startling realisation. She tried hard to keep it down but she failed. She vomited into her hand, or at least something similar. The motions were awful, worse than anything else she had ever had to eject from her body orally before.

Hinata felt sick to the very bottom of her stomach. Her hands shook as she slowly removed the one over her mouth and… and she couldn’t believe her eyes. They widened in shock as she saw the head of a flower in the palm of her hand. It was a cherry blossom, she realised. The pale pink petals were frayed at the edges, burnt by stomach acid and wet with her saliva; the anthers of its centre drooped and dragged, splayed across the petals. Her skin crawled as she marveled at the insane gravity of the situation. She quickly paled.

And the teacher noticed, “Hiramitsu, are you okay?” he asked from in front of the chalkboard, looking up concerned from the book he was reciting from.

“I-I, um, I need to go. To the nurse.” Hinata eked out her words with strained difficulty.

Her stomach flipped and she could feel another one coming up. It slithered up her throat and she hated the slow, dreadful sensation of it, the way it made her mouth taste of bile and cherries in horrible combination. Hinata bolted to her feet, afraid, alarming the whole class. She hid her mouth behind her hand again, holding tight that first flower that she had vomited.

“I need to go.” Hinata mumbled and she fled.

The feeling of her classmates' eyes on her felt like broken glass digging. She knew, deep down, they didn’t mean harm but their gazes only served to amplify the terror she felt as she fled. She was fast at first, escaping from the classroom but her stomach lurched and she vomited another flower and then again but two at once this time.

Hinata stopped in the hallway, she had to rest her shoulder against the wall just to stand as she looked down into the palm of her hand. The flowers were accumulating against her skin, wet and heavy, and accelerating in pace of production. Already she felt another lurch and this one was dire, Hinata didn’t think she would be so lucky to only vomit one or two this next time.

She had to get to the sick bay. She wasn’t sure what she would do there but anything had to be better than nothing, so she hobbled on in immense pain. By nothing less than a miracle, Hinata managed to get to the nurse’s suite without collapsing. Or with leaving too many flowers in her meagre wake.

The school nurse panicked almost immediately when she saw Hinata in this state. Hinata sputtered out a thank you whilst she was put to bed. Hinata curled up under the sheets, her stomach lurching and mangled petals dripped out of her mouth. She had to hide her ailment from the nurse. She just had to. She didn’t know how to explain it or anything else pertaining to it but fortunately, the nurse bought her some time by going to use administration’s phone to let her father know that Hinata was in immediate medical distress.

Hinata held her scrawny belly with one hand and her mouth the other. No matter how hard she tried, these flowers kept dredging up from inside of her and it was worsening. There was distention building inside of her, it was as if she could feel the bushels of cherry blossom flowers forming inside of her and something else too. It was raw and firm and poking up through her like a stick. Hinata moaned in utter agony as she tasted not just sweetness and bile in her mouth, but the cutting, metallic taste of blood too.

She whimpered as she tried to swallow it down. Attempting so, just made the nicks and cuts to her throat worsen and the petals to clog. Her lungs ached sharply as she struggled to breathe. Her eyes squeezed tight and she begged every deity she could think of for a saviour.

The door to the sick bay opened again. Hinata murmured to herself and the curtain was pulled aside, “Hinata?” a sweet voice greeted her.

“Huh?” Hinata slurred.

She rolled over, still holding herself but even a simple and slow motion like that was enough to rouse her illness violently. Her grimace was deep on her face as she tried to look at Nodoka, even feebly.

“A-Are you okay, Hinata?” she asked. “I couldn’t sit by and worry when I saw you ill you were, what’s wrong?”

Hinata opened her mouth. Mostly to reply, but that’s not what happened. She threw up in front of Nodoka and Nodoka couldn’t believe her eyes. Hinata was throwing up bushels upon bushels of flowers. Cherry blossoms. Nodoka blinked. She couldn’t believe the sights - or the smell. The smell was disconcerting with how almost pleasantly fragrant it was, heightening Nodoka’s realisation that this wasn’t Hinata pulling pranks.

“H-How on Earth did this happen…?” Nodoka asked.

She was horrified yet found herself unable to resist the impulse. She picked a blossom out of the pile that Hinata had vomited up. It was soft in her hand, even if it was grotesquely wet.

“I - I don’t-” Hinata tried to speak but she cut herself off when she felt something jut out of her mouth. An entire branch of cherry blossoms began to spike out of her mouth.

Her eyes began to roll back on themselves as Nodoka watched, in abject and frozen horror, as Hinata contended with this stick inside of her. It emerged slowly from the depths of her throat and made her chest convulse. Her fingers spasmed as she choked around it, flowers blooming along the thin and coarse branch.

“H-Help me.” Hinata sputtered out.

Nodoka nodded. She was scared, her heart was pounding, but she was first and foremost a helper of most empathetic ends. She had been on the receiving end of a strange and bizarre illness that had rendered most her childhood for naught. She couldn’t just let Hinata struggle. Suffocate.

So, she got onto the bed with Hinata. She straddled her so she could best approach the foreign object inside of Hinata. She focused her eyes and was as ready as she could ever be for an amateur operation quite like this one. Nodoka reached out and pinched the end of the branch delicately. It was entirely unsafe, Nodoka knew that, but she began to pull. She peered into Hinata’s pink mouth was clogged with twigs and petals, and tried her best to dislodge what she could.

Hinata gagged. Tears in her eyes and she plead, silently and afraid, that Nodoka could handle this. Nodoka’s hands shook but she did, in fact, manage. She tried her hardest and she did succeed even if it felt pyrrhic as Hinata screamed out as the last, and thickest, part of the cherry blossom branch was removed.

Nodoka flinched hearing the scream, dropping the cherry blossom branch between them. Hinata spat out blood and petals but the cherry blossom branch had been removed. She caressed her neck and it was raw with what it had been through. Her touches did little to soothe or quell her pain, she looked up at Nodoka with pathetic, red rimmed eyes.

“What was that?” Nodoka asked, her heart quaking. “How could any of this be possibly real?”

“I - I don’t know.” Hinata mumbled but that was a lie. She choked on her words all the same as she had choked on those cherry blossoms. Her hands squeezed tight. “No. I’m sorry. I do know.”

“Pardon?” Nodoka quietly exclaimed.

“There’s a very rare disease,” Hinata began, hasty, “that causes flowers to grow inside of someone suffering with a crush that they just can’t handle.”

“That’s horrible…” Nodoka murmured.

It was now or never, Hinata realised. Or she was going to end up exactly like the girl from the story that she had read yesterday. She knew it. She just knew it.

“Nodoka, it’s you.” Hinata confessed, half a sob in her voice. “I’m crushing on you.”

Nodoka was stunned by Hinata’s admission.

Hinata panted, her face was going bright red whilst her heart pounded like a hammer at her rib cage. She couldn’t believe it. She had done it. But it felt like a weight off, she had to admit, she didn’t realise her crush had been such a burden until right now. She felt herself lighten with the confession, from the very pit of her stomach, upwards and outwards.

Nodoka averted her gaze and Hinata was reminded once more why a crush was called a crush. That borderline feel good feeling from before popped. Burst. Nodoka played with her hair, fidgeting, and then managed to speak in a very calm and very quiet voice.

“I have a crush on you, too, Hinata.” Nodoka replied. “I admire so much how you sparkle and shine. It’s very refreshing to be around. I like you too. A lot.”

Nodoka reached out to Hinata’s hand and held it. She was so warm and she was still trembling but Nodoka’s caress of it did soothe her. Hinata hazarded a smile, like she couldn’t believe her ears, through her scarlet expression. Nodoka leaned in and kissed Hinata.

Hinata was unable to kiss back, afraid of her own breath but Nodoka didn’t mind. It was pungent with cherry blossoms and wet but she found the kiss sufficiently sweet, kissing Hinata’s soft, balmy lips. They were tinged with pineapple and vanilla beneath that overwhelming sensation of cherry blossoms.

“Thank you, Nodoka…” Hinata murmured and somehow, she didn’t know or understand how but she wasn’t going to complain, she was cured, prettily, of her affliction.

The cherry blossom flowers on the bed or in her gut, disappeared. All with seemingly little aplomb. Even the branch that had to have been removed from her throat, all with a soft, fizzling noise that Hinata could hardly hear over the sound of her pounding heart. She still had the cuts and scrapes, but she was no longer growing flowers inside of her stomach. Hinata was cured and Nodoka was her blessed, angelic cure.

#100ships challenge #femslash #nodohina #healin good precure #healin good #precure #nodoka hanadera #hanadera nodoka #cure grace #cure sparkle #hiramitsu hinata #hinata hiramitsu #writing tag #i really like this fic so i hope you guys enjoy

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faerielleart · 3 years

Note

✨I feel you! I can already smell the angst from way over here. Fluff for the soul it is! I’ll throw in some comfort (maybe!) for good measure!

Are you leaning towards modern AU or Canon universe?

Also you have any little HCs or tropes you like🥚?

🤍, 🐇

me already feeling my heart burst from joy [virtually pets the bunny emoji]

aaa i’ll leave you to make that choice bb 🥺

let me rant about a few headcanons let’s GO

for canon era, i like to think that hanji probably skipped a ton of meals (not on purpose, they were just SO engrossed in paperwork and research and whatnot), so levi took a trip into the kitchens every single night and cooked a nice meal for his commander, even super late at night, entered hanji’s room without knocking, tool all the papers and sat his ass on them, refusing to move until hanji finishes all the food lol i like to imagine he’d cook hanji’s fav dish a lot, something with potatoes maybe? like baked potato cakes with cheese and greens on the side with a warm cup of tea, or a warm soup for cold nights. according to chuugakkou levi’s a great cook so i feel like he’d be good in canon too :’D

also i like to think that they probably slept together (i mean literally, like in the same bed, not having sex) A LOT due to night terrors, just hearing each other’s breathing and feeling the other’s body warmth close to them is enough to calm them down so i feel like it became a habit for them to just sleep in the same bed, not necessarily cuddling; at least, not voluntarily lmao they’re far too awkward 😩 but in the morning they ALWAYS wake up holding esch other, cue them being awkward as fuck i might be tearing up a little at the thought of levi being a lil spoon and being half awake half asleep cuddling closer to hanji bc “oh who cares it’s a dream” AND THEN NOTICING THAT HE’S AWAKE LMAOOO HIS SOUL WOULD LEAVE HIS BODY especially bc hanji wakes up in that precise moment and is literally holding him super tight around the waist, legs thrown over his, my god they would both DIE from embarrassment they’d jump away from each other so fast- bye this is too adorable for me i’m going to have a heart attack

hanji probably cries every now and then at night and tries to be as quiet as possible, levi sneakily grabs their hand just to let them know he’s there, no words exchanged between them bc they don’t need it. just falling asleep holding hands. maybe when levi’s brave enough, maybe after emptying a bottle of whiskey in his evening tea, he’d even rub his thumb a lil over hanji’s palm just because it’s ticklish and he wants to hear hanji laugh. also if he’s asleep and having a nightmare, tossing and turning, hanji would stroke his hair and maybe hum a melody because levi once told them his mother used to do that. LITERALLY THE THOUGHT OF THESE FOOLS BEING ABLE TO DO BOLD FLUFFY SHIT ONLY WHEN THE OTHER’S ASLEEP MAKES ME SCREAM I HATE THEM SO MUCH god i hate them

onto the angstier shit bc a sprinkle of angst is always good, they definitely cuddled in the forest. hear me out, it’s absolutely realistic to assume that their clothes were soaking wet and being in a forest at night is cold as fuck, realistically they would’ve had to strip and make skin-to-skin contact or they would have died of hypothermia. it’s what happens in real life, it’s safe to assume it happened off screen. just like the cpr come on? you don’t get water out of your lungs without cpr

oh i might have said this already once, but i think they were mistaken for a married couple all the time tbh? like onyankopon in the first months of knowing them would suddenly say shit like “hanji-san your husband is a bit scary i hope you’re not offended” and hanji would get the blue screen of death in their brain “??£]£>${£>£{£{$> HUSBAND????? HUSBAND, LIKE MARRIED HUSBAND? HUSBAND THAT I MARRIED IN A MARRIAGE??????” levi too probably would get teased by yelena “i don’t understand how hanji-san married a short fucker like you you’re as ugly as a butthole and unpleasant in every single way” levi would not answer bc his brain is too busy processing the word “married”

ONTO MUSHIER STUFF let’s say they overcome the awkwardness and a kiss or two happen,,,, i feel like there’d be a lot of casual pecks??? like waking up in the morning KISS or “i’m going to take a shit wait for me” kiss, distracted kiss when hanji’s doing paperwork and levi needs to leave the room, just them being so comfortable around each other that physical contact happens without them even thinking about it

for modern era, hear me out, they’re totally childhood friends. probably neighbors. levi’s maybe 2 years older, but hanji gets a growth sprout in middle school and now you’ve got levi, a highschooler, shorter than a middle schooler difjsmek

in elementary school hanji gets picked on a lot, levi is their personal bodyguard and scares away all the bullies, but pretends he only did it to build a scary reputation, tsundere child blushing and stuttering “I-IT’S NOT LIKE I DID IT FOR YOU OR ANYTHING,,,,, DUMBASS,,,,,,,,,” but hanji knows lmao and calls him “my knight” and levi Dies every single time. kuchel teases the fuck out of him

hanji gifts levi the most random things and levi keeps EVERYTHING he has a secret special box under his bed and he has kept everything hanji’s ever given him since the day they met. even candy wrappers. everything. hanji finds it one day and levi Dies inside but it’s the cutest most endearing thing in the world and holy fuck they’re so in love literally soulmates

hanji probably has a family cat who is really really ugly and old and grumpy and absolutely HUGE who hates everyone but for some reason he got super attached to levi and always sits on his head. levi pretends to hate it more than Anything but hanji’s seen him tons of times giving him treats despite how much he says “get this fat sack of fleas off of me it’s UNSANITARY”

they probably start to date out of high school bc they were too awkward to do so earlier, even if they probably kissed quite a few times “just to see what the fuss is all about”. their parents probably knew they’d be married one day as early as elementary school ☠️ they’re too obvious

i feel like they’d definitely have children tbh 100% as an accident tho, just to make this completely self indulgent imma say they have triplets, weird uncommon pregnancy for the weirdest most uncommon of couples LEVI BEST DAD he’d be a stay at home dad while hanji works as a scientist in a lab and please. please just imagine three tiny daughters who look just like him but have hanji’s nose and attitude who have him wrapped around their little fingers i’m going to lkterally combust

yeah parents lh having cute tea parties with their bbs??? sign me the FUCK up

my fav tropes are hurt/comfort literally anything that involves character A being sad and character B doing the most to cheer them up [chef’s kiss] plus disgustingly mushy mutual pining and slow burn that makes me tear my hair out waiting for the fucking tension to be resolved i love torturing myself,,,,, i really fucking love forehead kisses okay i feel like levi has a permanent indent in his forehead due to the gargantuan amount of fat smooches hanji has given him in his life

thank your for visiting my askbox again dear bunny 🐰 i hope to hear from you again soon hehe ✨

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keichan · 4 years

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Running Through the Night Tsukishima x fem!reader Part 5: After

You and Tsukishima have been friends for as long as you two could remember. With a very unexpected confession, how will this affect you two?

Authors note: So I’ve decided that this series will end at either between parts 8-10 but I’m not completely sure. I’m glad that you guys are enjoying my first series! I plan on writing a Tanaka SMAU in the near future with @pipsqweaks so follow us (:

Word count: 1737

Genre: college au, unrequited love, angst, best friends to lovers, fluff somewhere in there, mutual pining

Warnings: manga time skip!!! mentions of vomiting

Send me a message or ask to be added to the taglist !

masterlist・previous・next

“So what’s got you like this Y/N?” Sugawara sat across from you in a ramen shop not too far away from Tsukishima’s apartment. You prodded the noodles with your chopsticks before you let out a short sigh.

“Kei confessed to me last night,” You held your breath and set your utensils down before looking at Sugawara for his response.

He grinned, “Really? That’s great! It’s about time that he finally confessed!” He clapped his hands together giddily. Your jaw dropped open. If it was humanly possible, you’re sure it would’ve touched the ground. He slowed down at your reaction, “Are you not happy about it?”

“Wait. You’re saying that you knew about it? What do you mean about time?” You placed both of your hands on the table and leaned forward. Sugawara’s expression slowly switched from joy to confusion.

“Yeah?...” he began slowly. “It wasn’t just me... Literally everyone knew.... Are you telling me that you didn’t?” He let out a nervous laugh.

You leaned back dumbfounded in your chair and began to tap your leg rapidly. You shook your head at the table. “I literally had no idea, I was caught off guard about it.”

“Really? The whole team thought that you two had a thing for each other and was kind of just waiting for some kind of catalyst to finally throw you two together.”

“Are you being serious?”

“Yes. You two were inseparable. It was almost unnatural to not see the both of you in the same room. Y/N, even in your first year over high school, he was already head over heels for you. The times that you weren’t there, he’s... I’m not sure if it’s the right word for it, but tense. The high strung, cocky bastard that we all know. If he sees anything that displeases him, he has to make a comment. But whenever you’re there he isn’t like that he-“

“What are you talking about? He always has to make a comeback regardless. It’s not like he avoids it when I’m there,” you insist.

Sugawara waves his hands, “No, no, it’s not like that. His insults are barely kinder, but he says it because he likes it when you tell him to lay off. Even though he might tell you to shut up or call you an idiot as a reply. Every time you would turn away, he always had this stupid smile on his face.”

You buried your face in your hands mumbling, “I feel so stupid that I didn’t know.”

“So.. Are you telling me that you don’t like him?”

“It’s not that.. It’s just that when I think of everything that happened last night, it just is all starting to make sense. How could I be so blind.”

“Yanno, what’s kinda funny is every time a guy would confess to you in high school, Tsukishima would go out of his way to subtly bully them after you rejected them. He’d either bump into them ‘accidentally’ or flat out insult them with a ’So I heard Y/N-san rejected you. Hate to say it makes sense’ with his signature smirk.” He let out a light laugh.

You followed with a dry laugh. “Yeah, that’s Kei for ya.”

“Speaking of, why did you always reject everyone who confessed to you? Some of the guys were pretty attractive.” Sugawara pondered out loud.

You took a second to think about it. There was never really a reason for you to reject all of those boys your first year. You didn’t need a boyfriend since you had Kei. Wait.

“I just had the realization that the reason why I never said yes was kind of the situation of ‘well I already have Kei, why would I need someone else.” You laughed nervously before continuing. “Everything with Kei is so easy and so natural. Being around him is like breathing. I’m always at ease around him, I just never have had to worry. I mean yeah we bicker, but we’ve never fought. I guess I just never had a reason to see him in that light because everything from our childhood to now has been consistent. I don’t really know the point I’m trying to get at, but I do love him. Maybe I’ve subconsciously blocked all of these other people off because I knew it deep down. I just have never had a reason to acknowledge it.”

After you finished the sound of the other patrons moving around the shop enveloped the atmosphere again, setting you back into reality. Sugawara offered you a warm smile. “Do you think he’s taking it hard right now? What exactly did he say last night?”

You slowly began to retell the events of last night. He couldn’t help but smile as he saw you glow brightly every time you said Tsukishima’s name. Sugawara and many other alumni knew that this was a long time coming. It’s just nice to see it all play out.

“But there is one thing he said last night that doesn’t really make sense. He said something like ‘I can make you happier than him’ or something like that. I have no idea who ‘him’ is supposed to be.” Now in a better mood, leaving room for Sugawara to speak, you began to start eating again.

“Well is there anyone you hang out with that happens to be a guy? From college or from high school”

You shook your head. “I’ve been so busy. Earlier this month we had midterms, so I had to balance that and my part-time job at the market. I usually spend the time I do have with Kei and Yamaguchi or some of my other friends, but only once or twice. Since Yamaguchi and I have been planning Kei’s birthday party since it’s coming up in two weeks, I guess you could say that I’ve been spending more time with him since we’re trying to get everyone from high school to come. But I don’t think that Kei would be jealous of Yamaguchi. The three of us have been so close since middle school. It doesn’t make sense, right?”

“Actually, Y/N, it kind of does. It might be what pushed him over. Especially if you’re spending more time with Yamaguchi out of nowhere over Kei, it probably is coming off like you have a thing with him and you’re just not saying anything on the matter.”

You pointed your chopsticks at him, “I’m just going to assume you’re wrong until Italk to him. Is it cool if you take me back to his place? I just hope he’s home.”

Sugawara nodded standing up, “Yeah of course! And don’t worry about the meal, it’s my treat.”

Tsukishima knew from the moment he woke up that your friendship wasn’t going to be there anymore. If it was it would be awkward and uncomfortable. You would avoid him like you avoided all of the other boys that confessed to you in high school.

He got dressed and began to walk out of the front door. He saw you sleeping peacefully on the couch, beautiful as ever. He scrunched his eyes closed quickly. Dumbass, she rejected you, you can’t think like that. The thoughts overwhelmed him. The realization made him feel numb. He quietly exited the apartment and began driving to his captains house. He couldn’t confide in Yamaguchi, that was clear to him. Nakamura was the next best option. Tsukishima knocked on the door and was let in immediately.

“Are you okay, Tsukishima?” The captain grabbed the tall middle blocker’s shoulder, eyes laced with concern. Tears quickly slipped from the edges of his eyes before he wiped them with his sleeve.

He tried to make his voice as steady as possible by slowing his breathing, but he was already choking back a sob. “I confessed to Y/N last night and she rejected me. She didn’t kiss me back, she didn’t say anything, she just left the room.” Tsukishima sank against the wall. “I really lost her…”

Nakamura crouched down and rubbed his shoulder, “Tsukishima, it’s going to be alright. This is going to pass.”

Tsukishima shook his head in a daze.

“I’ve loved her all of my life. It’s not that simple and it will never be.”

Nakamura stood up and walked to his kitchen. “I’m gonna make you some tea so hopefully you can get to feeling better. Y/N has never left your side and I don’t think she ever would.”

Tsukishima felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He fished it out to see you calling. Your profile picture was from Christmas a few years ago. You stand behind his sitting figure with your arms hanging around his neck. Both of you are smiling so big. His thumb hovered over the answer button but he didn’t click it. He couldn’t talk to you right now. His heart couldn’t handle what you were going to tell him.

He set it on the ground and took his glasses off in an attempt to wipe away his tears, but your phone call opened the floodgates. He pulled his knees to his chest and began to sob. His body wouldn’t stop shaking. Nakamura walked up to him with a mug of tea just to set it down next to Tsukishima’s cell phone. He wasn’t sure what to do besides say everything will be fine and rub his back. He didn’t know Tsukishima could emote like that.

It wasn’t before long that Tsukishima got short of breath and began to choke on his sobs. “Nakamura, I feel like I’m going to be sick. I can’t breathe” Nakamura quickly nodded and led Tsukishima to his bathroom before Tsukishima threw himself over the toilet and began to dry heave, but nothing came up. It pained his captain to see him like this.

After a while once the tears slowed, Nakamura offered him a spare room to stay for as long as he needed. By that point he was so exhausted, he passed out immediately.

Upon waking up he had 27 missed calls and 51 text messages.

The most recent ones saying:

Y/N: Kei, I’m at your at your apartment right now

Y/N: Kei I really want to talk to you about everything, please come home.

Y/N: I’m so worried about you, please answer me

Sent at 10:17pm

Tsukishima didn’t go home that night

((a/n I’m not sure if everyone will agree on how I chose to write Tsukishima at this chapter, but I feel like if he truly thought he lost the opportunity with the love of his life, I’d think that it would push him over.))

taglist @pipsqweaks @pperapear @kapuching @luvmonie @bumbledunce

@a-listaire @ysasian @kodzu-ken @montys-chaos

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu tsukishima #haikyuu college au #haikyuu angst #angst #mutual pining #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima #tsukishima kei #sugawara #sugawara koushi

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aelysianmuse · 4 years

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DESTIEL FIC REC

Okay, so, fanfiction is something that has brought me so much joy, entertainment and comfort during these hard times. These are the Destiel fics that I have bookmarked and would suggest for everyone to read. They are top notch in every department and I’ve read each and every multiple times. I wrote them down from the lowest word count to the highest and I linked the authors to their tumblr accounts, whenever I could find them, so please go shower them with love!

Touchstone - by xylodemon - Words: 3,519 - Summary: "You're in pain," Cas says finally. He sounds sad. (Episode tag for 11x03, the one where Dean is hurt but doesn’t think he deserves Cas healing him. Cas disagrees and makes heals him in loveliest, most tender way. Everything is beautiful.)

Colette - by englandwouldfall - Words: 4,218 - Summary: Cain’s prediction keeps ringing in his ears. He’s going to kill Crowley, then Cas, then Sam. It makes sense to him. He hates how much sense it makes, but there’s something almost poetic about it; it’s circular, neat, the Mark wants it. The Mark wants to destroy everything, but most of all it wants to destroy Dean. And that would do it. (Episode tag 10x14, Dean struggling with the Mark, unable to deal with all the anger and urge to kill and Cas trying to be his savior Collette. Feelings are acknowledged but things are far more complicated than that.)

Newton’s Third - by felolle - Words: 6,220 - Summary: “How can I be running from something when I’m racing toward it?” “I dunno -- kinda your thing.” Thanks for the call out, little brother (Episode tag 14x03, Cas helping Dean deal with Michael possession. Awesome character portrayal!)

Take me home tonight - by persephoneshadow - Words: 8,111 - Summary: The one where Cas wants to have sex and Dean is there to help (It’s a PWP where it takes some jealousy for Dean to get his head out of his ass - and Cas knows exactly what he’s doing)

Boys on film - by loversantiquities - Words: 8,540 - Summary: But maybe that’s what it is—maybe Castiel’s finally realized something Dean is too chicken to admit, despite the fact he’s been jerking off to the idea of Castiel fucking him for the past few weeks. The idea warms him as much as it pains him to think about, his friend not being able to talk to him about something like that. That has to be it—it’s the only explanation. Castiel likes him.“Or maybe he knows you do cam shows.”Dean chokes on his burger. (Basically Dean does cam-shows, Cas knows. They get it on in the end.)

Cuckoo and Nest - by komodobits - Words: 10, 190 - Summary: For a long time, Castiel thought that every earthly possession other than the immediately necessary was excess to requirement. But Dean – Dean who named his car, who keeps a photograph of his mother in his wallet, some thirty-plus years after her death, who still has the crumpled ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign with a sleeping pelican emblazoned on it from the Microtel outside of Roanoke where he first kissed Castiel, clumsy and unsure, under the unsteady fluorescence of an exhausted bathroom bulb – is sentimental.It puzzles Castiel, where Dean draws the line between what is meaningful and what it is worthless. (Boys walking on eggshells around each other, Castiel mistaking Dean’s neatness for annoyance about Cas’s lack of thereof, Dean mistaking Cas’s apprehension for having one foot out of the door. Miscommunication that gets resolved. It’s delightful!)

Just turn around and go - by Porcupinegirl - Words: 11,320 - Summary: Dean should be happy. His best friend and housemate of five years, Castiel, is moving out to live with his boyfriend, Balthazar. Dean's career is going great, so he can easily afford the house on his own now. This is just growing up, moving forward to the next phase of their lives.It would be awesome, if he weren't in love with Cas. (Some angst and miscommunication among roomies who are in love but needed a little push to finally do something about it, and that push is Cas deciding to move out and live with his actual boyfriend. Things work out just fine.)

So glad we made it - by annie d (scaramouche) - Words: 16,421 - Summary: At twelve years old, Dean makes a friend, who becomes his best friend, who will eventually become the love of his life. (Destiel fic in which they know each other since childhood and take their sweet-ass time with admitting to each other that they’re otp: meant to be. But it happens. Timeline of little snippets that show them falling in love and owning that shit up, at last!)

I know who I want to take me home- by annodominique - Words: 17,548 - Summary: The one where Dean and Cas are new workmates who hate each other's guts, are somehow forced into driving each other crazy because they secretly want to fuck, and they might have fallen in love with each other in the process. (Lots of sexual tension, mutual pining and enemies to lovers storyline - all in a nursing home. It’s amazing and absolutely heartwarming.)

Welcome to humanity - by winnywriter - Words: 19,944 - Summary: Castiel is falling, slowly but surely becoming fully human. Every day there is something new to discover, and many of those discoveries are not wholly pleasant ones. And the whole time, Dean can't help but worry about the fact that the further the angel falls, the more he finds he likes the human Cas is becoming. (It’s exactly what the summary says it is. Moments of Castiel slowly becoming human and Dean trying to help him navigate that path while navigating it himself in the most Dean way possible)

On air - by wincechesters - Words: 21,219 - Summary: Cas and Dean are radio DJs who host the second most popular morning show in Lawrence. They’ve been co-hosts for years at different stations across the country, and they own a house together out of necessity, even though they’re just friends. But for some reason, a lot of their listeners and even some of their friends and family seem to think that they’re secretly in some kind of relationship, which they’re totally not (besides that one time that totally doesn’t count). In spite of that, Dean thinks he’s got everything figured out, until an ill-fated on air game of Truth or Dare turns everything upside down (and the billboards around town aren’t helping either). (Friends to lovers story that’s very well summarized, so I have nothing to add except that it’s such a wonderful read, this author is absolutely amazing and you should definitely read it.)

The Beach House in the Winter - by englandwouldfall - Words: 23,715 - Summary: They're not exactly in a good place right now, so it was probably a bad idea to agree to a full Milton family reunion at their old summer haunt to mark a year since Cas' father died.Obviously, he did it anyway. (This is a second part of a series, I absolutely suggest reading all of the works ‘cause they’re equally wonderful, but I read this one first and individually and loved it the most so I’m suggesting it. Look at tag warnings. It’s about Dean having panic attacks mid sex due to trauma, Castiel trying to treat him right and handle the situation properly. They love each other so much ugh)

There are many things - by imogenbynight - Words: 28,807 - Summary: In which Dean and Castiel learn, through trial and error, how to be together. (What starts out as an angsty fic that follows Cas’s human experience after Dean kicked him out of the bunker, turns into a Destiel falling in love fic as they find their way back to one another)

Sometimes it fits - by ballsdeepinwinchesters - Words: 37,720 - Summary: Castiel is an over-worked, socially awkward neurosurgeon; Dean is the ruggedly handsome paramedic that asks him out for drinks. The rest kind of fell into place. (Two hotties with busy work schedules having lots of sex and being domestic. It’s a lot of fluff and smut. No angst.)

Put up your dukes - by saltyfeathers - Words: 38, 282 - Summary: Dean can't sleep. Cas offers to tire him out. (Dean struggling to accept the sexual tension relief Castiel is oh-so-eager to offer. So much tension, sparring goodness and bed sharing.)

All’s well that ends well - englandwouldfall - Words: 52,326 - Summary: Dean knew the second he took off that he shouldn't have left, but that didn't mean he could have guessed what he'd be coming back home to. (It’s actually a part 4 of the series, and I do suggest reading the entire series, but I read it first and individually before even realizing this and I absolutely loved it nonetheless. It’s about both Dean and Cas having made some poor choices in the past, abandonment and infidelity and two of them loving each other so much that they’re willing to forgive and fight for each other no matter what. Angsty and beautiful.)

A midterms night’s dream - by englandwouldfall - Words: 75,756 - Summary: There's at least fifteen good reasons why they're not sleeping together, it's just that Dean can’t remember them when Cas sends him one second dirty snapchats to goad him into doing the dishes. (One of my absolutely favorite fics and one of my top 3 fic authors (does a lot of series, which gets you really emotionally invested!). I suggest you read literally every single Destiel story written by this author, ‘cause it’s consistent in character portrayal and in invoking emotional response and I’ll probably explicitly write down at least one more story that I particularly liked from them. This one’s about them being college roomates who’re basically oblivious to sharing sentiment of wanting to be in relationship with the other, so they pine emotionally while having exceptional we-are-strictly-fuck-buddies sex)

Version 2.0 - by elizabeth1985 - Words: 75,937 - Summary: Life is nothing but a series of processes. We rise, we work, we function within the walls we’ve designed for ourselves. Dean Winchester does not deviate from this system. Heavily tattooed and a certified genius; Dean necessitates control. Relationships are a no-go. Too messy, unpredictable. And yeah, he knows having casual sex with his best friend, roommate, and business partner is a dumbass move. But Cas’ suggestion is impossible to resist.What Dean doesn’t expect and couldn’t possibly predict is the unique way Cas manages to shut down his mile-a-minute mind, giving him a level of inner peace he’d thought to be unattainable.What starts out of convenience morphs into a dynamic emotional slide neither of them were prepared for, forcing them to decide what they’re willing to risk. (Cas and Dean being business partners turning to fuck buddies turning to mutually pining idiots, where Cas won’t let things progress further ‘cause Dean is so entwined in every single aspect of his life that he’s absolutely terrified to lose it all. But Dean makes an effort to show him otherwise!) + It’s hard to fool around in a tent (Words: 5,861)

Any little heartbreak - by followthattardis - Words: 76,897 - Summary: Dean Winchester knows everything there is to know about the human heart. Well. Anatomically speaking. (Very Grey’s Anatomy-y, Dean is a thriving cardiosurgeon, Cas is his new surgical nurse assistant, there are so many well written characters, so much gossip, gratuitous sex and eventually a relationship. It’s so lovely, ugh I love this writer.)

A crash course in computer safety - by followthattardis - Words: 85,269 - Summary: On the day of his 29th birthday, Dean receives an email from his old nemesis: Michael Milton, the guy who got him kicked out of college and stole his girlfriend. The email contains encoded images with top secret CIA/NSA intelligence – and now their only copy is in Dean’s brain. Both agencies send their best operatives – Castiel Novak and Victor Henriksen respectively – to handle their accidental asset and protect the invaluable data in his head. To justify their sudden appearance in Dean’s life, they adopt covers: Victor as Dean’s new co-worker and neighbor, Cas as his new boyfriend. Needless to say, Dean’s brother and his girlfriend are thrilled to see him in a relationship they believe to be real. Clearly, there’s no way this could go wrong. (This is a NBC: Chuck AU and one of my top 3 fics ever. I haven’t watched Chuck at all and regardless of whether you have or not, I don’t wanna write anything else in this section ‘cause I enjoyed discovering every bit of information on my own. I’ve literally taken this fic and studied/analyzed it as a writer myself to take pointers on accurate character portrayal and writing style. It’s book material, I’d literally buy anything this author writes. It’s becoming a series and more content is to come so I suggest subscribing.) + Curtain up (Words: 10,311)

La hantise (The only work in progress fic here) - by quiettewandering - Words: 87,468 - Summary: Castiel’s mother dies, leaving him the family home that sits abandoned on the moody coast of Maine. He’s forced to return to the past ghosts of his trauma, as well as meeting the mysterious and nomadic Dean Winchester. Dean offers to help Castiel fix up the house so he can sell it, which quickly becomes problematic as Castiel begins to develop feelings for Dean; especially when details of Dean’s troubling past come to light.This is a story about the sea, second chances, and two broken, forgotten people building a love between them while restoring a broken, forgotten house. (Romance, ghosts, house renovation, cliffhangers, angst - I am awful with WP’s, never read them till they’re done ‘cause I’m an impatient one but this is the one I couldn’t resist and thoroughly enjoy)

Ignore the butterflies: best friend advice from Dean Winchester - by impatient14 - Words: 114,837 - Summary: Dean likes his doctor, but his doctor doesn’t like him.Accidental friendship ensues, heartwarming bonding type moments occur, and oops!friends become best!friends.But best friends aren’t supposed to feel the way Dean feels about Castiel. He knows this. So he ignores all the things that he can’t help feeling. When he sits and watches a movie with his best friend or when they are arguing about which method of coffee brewing is best, he pointedly doesn’t look at his friends lips, or the adorable way he tilts his head when he doesn’t understand.Dean ignores his feelings.That’s the way he knows how to keep his best friend.Just ignore the butterflies. (Dean is a heroic firefighter who ends up in stand-offish Castiel’s ER and flirts mercilessly with him, but to no avail. Cas is not made of stone, though, he’s just trying to protect his little heart ‘cause Dean does scary heroic things. It’s super emotional, go read it.)

Keeping you in sight - by gingerswag - Words: 136,374 - Summary: Castiel valued his solitude, and was happy to stay hidden away in the mountains for the rest of his life. But when his seeing eye dog dies, that solitude is suddenly broken when Gabriel shows up not with another dog but an actual human slave. Castiel doesn't believe in slavery, but he can't turn away the very hurt and broken man he's given. (This is a slavery fic, look up the tag warnings! It’s extremely angsty, it has a very human and rational ending which not might satisfy those looking for a conclusive, expressed fairytale ending for these two. It’s about Dean having gone through a lot of trauma and Cas being extremely lonely and two of them trying to mend each other while going through an excruciatingly painful healing process. I don’t think I can summarize it in a way that envelops everything that happens in this fic - it’s a tougher read but absolutely wonderfully written and very angsty)

Stay with me, sweetheart - by mandalarose - Words: 142,926 - Summary: A single moment's distraction ends with a serious car accident that leaves Castiel trapped in his vehicle. Fortunately for him, fire fighter Dean Winchester is there, never leaving Castiel's side as the rest of his company work to free him from the mangled remains of his SUV.When the two meet again in the ICU, Castiel finds himself just as drawn to and comforted by the handsome fireman as he was during his accident. Dean is certainly attractive, but single father Castiel doesn't have time or space in his life for a romantic relationship.Then again, there's no harm in making a new friend, is there? (Dean is so whipped, so is Cas but he tries really hard not to get invested ‘cause everyone leaves and it’s not a commodity he can afford now that he’s got a baby. Thankfully for him, Dean is all-in kind of guy who’s gonna make all the right choices, one after another, fighting to show Cas that he can have what he desires and deserves, even after multiple attempts of Cas’s to push him away. Love conquers all!)

Four Letter Word for Intercourse - by bendingsignpost - Words: 194,739 - Summary: As a grease monkey turned college freshman, Dean's constantly three seconds away from being stressed out of his mind. It hardly helps that he's finally figuring out his sexuality in his thirties.What might help with that stress is a little phone number (and a big credit card bill). If he can't figure out how to be bisexual in person, he can at least give it a go over the phone, right? (I think I probably read this story a hundred times. Fantastically written fic where Dean is a student discovering his sexuality through a phone sex line, struggling with having to take over family business and Cas is a professor with a sidejob, with whom Dean interacts wordlessly at the library. It tackles on mental health, on wonderful sex dynamics, coming out and lots of other stuff. It’s one of the best writen fics out there, along with the other works in this series that I highly suggest to read: A Little Anal - Words: 18,805 and What makes a man kneel - Words: 9,920)

#destiel #deancas #supernatural #destiel fic #destiel fic rec

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captain-emmajones · 4 years

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Love, Emma (4/7)

(Art by the wonderful @carpedzem <33)

Loosely based on Love, Rosie (2014). Killian and Emma are best friends and neighbors. They’ve always been – until he leaves for the Navy when his brother dies. When he comes back, nine months later, summer has begun and childhood is ending. Emma can tell something is changed in him, but she doesn’t know what. Until she does. He’s fallen in love with someone else.

And then, suddenly, they’re kissing on her nineteenth birthday. When she asks him to forget their night out, and never talk about it again, Killian thinks she means to tell him she regrets the kiss they exchanged. Except she has no memory of it.

Killian and Emma will dance around each other, until their heads spin and their legs hurt, and everything becomes blurry and it has to stop – for both of their sake.

Title is from Taylor Swift’s Peace – which clearly inspired the mood of this chapter.

A huge thank you to @profdanglaisstuff who beta’d this and gave me her usual precious advice, and also big thanks to @carpedzem who screamed at me in the best way possible <3

Friends to Lovers - Mutual Pining - Angst - Fluff - 6000 words - ao3

Last scene of the last chapter was Killian arriving in NYC after the whole Neal stole watches and Emma impulsively runs away thing. This chapter opens on Killian, Emma, MM and David in MM’s kitchen -- right after Emma and Killian’s hug.

Part 1 - Mirrorball , Part 2 - AUGUST, Part 3 - HOAX, Part 5 - This is me trying, Part 6 - Cardigan, Part 7 - INVISIBLE STRING

PART 4 - PEACE

Would it be enough

If I could never give you peace?

Four years before Emma’s wedding – New York.

As Killian makes small talk with David and Mary Margaret in the kitchenette, Emma is quite thankful she cried this hard. While she really went all in, wept with both her eyes and her nose for a good ten minutes and clearly smeared Killian’s sweater for life in the process, Emma must confess that she does feel better.

Scientists didn’t lie about dopamine. The grey feeling in her chest is twirling in a salt puddle, but Emma knows it won’t be drowned forever. (Not when hazel lingers behind her eyelids, anyway.)

As she sits next to Killian, in front of a plate of scrambled eggs, Emma feels like she might be floating on a cloud. She’s almost tempted to close her eyes, and get some well-deserved rest, but Killian might leave again and her eyes shoot open at the thought.

She did not forget his text. He said he would be busy. Why isn’t he, suddenly?

Her fork slides to the right, and nearly stabs her cheek. Emma sighs, embarrassed, but they don’t notice her, engulfed in their conversation. That’s for the best.

A nasty hope raises her heart. Maybe, just maybe …

But then, no. No. She deserves better than this, better than being left hanging for him to look back at her. Knowing he never does.

“Well, I’m glad to see you two are still the most infuriating couple in town.”

Emma looks up to see a smile on Killian’s face. He is peeling an orange, and its smell fills Emma’s lungs with Christmas memories and Ingrid’s tender smile. She must be worried sick.

Guilt circles Emma’s throat, until she gets distracted by the orange peels dropped next to her. They look like petals.

Emma thinks, as Killian sits next to her, all upright and proper and Navy, that she sees him for the first time in ages. That the strawberry cloud surrounding him has blotted – somewhere between their last goodbye and the moment she realized she was blaming him for her grey, fuzzy feeling. She doesn’t know if she is allowed to blame him. Probably not. But it still itches.

David and Mary Margaret obviously like Killian. She sees it in the way David presses his shoulder when he reaches for butter, and Mary Margaret makes sure his cup of coffee is never empty. She thinks they always did like him more than they liked her. But that’s fair. She also liked Killian better.

“Aha, thank you, mate ,” replies David, and he has a green apron on his right shoulder and he looks very much so adult and Emma frowns, feeling like she missed an important step from teenagerhood to adulthood. “What about you, any lovebird?”

Well, now that was quick.

Mary Margaret’s swiftly elbows David in the ribs, but it’s too late. The eggs are already stuck down Emma’s throat, and it feels like a strong hand is strangling her. She coughs loudly, and a glass of water is pushed in front of her. Killian.

He won’t let her be mad, will he?

“Careful, Swan.” He even dares to smile. She wants to yell at him but Mary Margaret and David would stare, and she would have to explain why she’s yelling, and then she would have to talk about this funny, funny feeling in her belly when she thinks about M, and… She drinks up.

Killian gives a small chuckle then, but Emma barely hears it. She only hears the fickle buzzing of her heart.

“Sorry mate, I’m not the type to kiss and tell.” Killian’s words are sure and calm.

Without a glance, Killian hands Emma an orange slice, as if it were the most natural thing in the world – and sure, for a while it was – and she shoots him a death glare but she takes it all the same.

What does he think he’s doing? Does he think she’s just his to pick whenever he feels like it?

The small slice is very delicate and it leaves tangy, sugary drops on her fingers, but she does not think too much about it and shoves it in her mouth. It explodes in orangey sweetness.

“Can we change the subject?” asks Mary Margaret, and Emma isn’t looking up but she knows she’s staring at her with all of the compassion and the pity in the world and it makes Emma even madder.

Everything is so bitter. She doesn’t know where to look, where to be, for the pain to flatter.

“I need to get out,” Emma exhales suddenly. She doesn’t mean to say it like that, but those are the only words her brain comes up with.

“Oh. Alright. Well, David and I were thinking about going to the Christmas market but—”

“— It’s fine. You guys can go to the Christmas market, I’ll stay with Emma.”

Emma doesn’t offer Killian a glance, instead buries her nails into her palm. How dare he.

“Are you sure, Emma?” asks Mary Margaret, and Emma wants to snap back that she should have thought about it before inviting Killian over, but then she sees the gentle glint in Mary Margaret’s eyes and she can only sigh.

“Yeah, don’t worry. Killian and I need to talk, anyway.”

She hopes Killian’s heart makes a loop in his chest and the tip of his ears turn scarlet, as they always do when he is embarrassed. It’s all he deserves.

“Well, then it’s settled.”

And Emma wishes it didn’t smell like oranges and Christmas in the room, because then it would be easier to hate Killian Jones, for sure.

Bare are the trees of Central Park as Killian and Emma walk in, their boots crushing the fresh snow. Crunch, crunch, it sings. Emma loves that sound.

She is wearing her biggest red coat and a huge beanie but she is still shaking. She buries her hands in her pockets, walking ahead of Killian, and when she looks back he isn’t by her side. Panic rises in her mind, until she gets a glimpse of him a little down the street, queuing next to a coffee shop.

As she walks to meet him, her stomach twists. He’s getting her a hot cocoa. A green and viscous fury creeps from Emma’s toes to her heart. When he hands her the steaming cup, his fingers brush against hers and she blames the cold for the shiver that tingles her skin.

“Thanks,” she hisses, but still will not look at him. Twirls of chocolate steam escape the cup, it smells like heaven.

But Emma is very determined to hate Killian, from now on, and she hides her grin behind her cup.

“Should we sit on the bench?” offers Killian, and she loathes the gentle tone of his voice.

“Yup.”

Down the park, families are strolling and Emma’s heart sighs loudly. Oh, this is very much so unfair. What’s even more unfair, though, is the fact that when Killian presses one hand down her back, she doesn’t want him to stop.

She wants him to linger there. And when his hand quits her back as he sits down on the bench, it leaves frostbite.

She licks her lips, squeezing her thighs together. “Are you alright, Swan?”

She nods and sips the hot chocolate. Clouds of cinnamon tickle her nose. It makes her smile against her will, and then it makes her sad. He knows her by heart. Can you really leave someone you know by heart behind?

“I’m fine. So, we said we would talk,” she quickly mutters, and takes another sip of her warm drink.

Ah, this hot cocoa is definitely soothing her soul.

Killian crosses his legs, and she knows he only does so when he is uncomfortable and she is glad. He better be.

“What do you want to talk about?” Christmas lights twinkle in the trees behind him. They form the shape of a snowflake.

“First, who called you?”

They are green, red and yellow, the lights. Their sight should not tighten her throat like this.

“Ingrid. She was worried about you. She wants you to come back, Emma.”

She nods, a small, quiet cloud of white smoke escaping her lips.

“I thought she’d hate me. I thought she wanted to get rid of me.”

Killian’s furious stare burns the side of her cheek, and Emma blushes but she won’t look back at him.

“Why would she hate you, Emma? Ingrid’s always cared for you.”

She wants to tell him that he cared and he still left, but then she would start to cry, and she does not want that.

“Yeah, right. Well. I’m not used to someone putting me first.”

It’s hard to shake Neal’s smile from the cobweb of her thoughts. She thought he liked her. Hell, she thought he was in love with her and she was the one incapable of moving on from her teenage crush. She thought she was the one throwing away their chance at happiness. She was wrong.

And Killian reaches for her then, breaks their secret and unspoken oath of distance and loneliness and grabs the hand she let linger on the cold, wooden bench, and Emma can’t control the great dive of her eyes into his.

And blue are his eyes, icy blue, and so full of warmth, and she wants to drown in them. She clenches her jaw.

“I’m sorry for what happened, Emma. You deserve so much better than that scumbag.”

Well, does she? Anger burns deep within her. It’s a wicked flame.

She snatches her hand away from him and in that gesture she catches a smell of peeled oranges and everything sucks again.

“You were with her, right?” she attacks then, pushed by this bold fury in her heart, and they have to talk about it or it will kill her.

He opens his mouth then, but no sound comes out, and Emma swallows frozen stones.

“I…I was.” A pause. “How long have you known?”

She shakes her head then, blonde hair dancing over her eyelids. “Since this summer.”

But also, far before that. She thinks she knew the moment he stopped answering her calls at midnight and their texts got more scattered. That was probably the moment she knew.

She buries her hand in her pocket, so that he will not grab it again, and she drinks long mouthfuls of her hot cocoa. She swallows too fast and the vindictive liquid burns her throat. She winces.

“I see. And since we’re talking great revelations, how long has this thing been going on with Neal?”

So much for friendship, she thinks. So much for loyalty and comfort and trust. It nearly hurts as much as the savage burn left by the hot cocoa down her throat. Liar.

“This summer,” she lies.

She wants him to think she never cared, even if she most clearly does, or she wouldn’t be clinging to her hot cocoa this way.

There’s a scoff next to her. “I see.”

And then silence falls, and Emma doesn’t want this battle to end. But when she glances at him, his hands are calmly spread out on his lap, his cup of cocoa long forgotten, and she wants to shake him, to tell him to fight for her, for them, but he is already defeated and he doesn’t care.

“That’s it?” she asks, and her voice is hoarse with tears.

He looks at her then, shrugs. “What do you want me to say, Swan?”

Anything. Anything but his silence and his mature smile and his soft eyes that don’t see her.

“We’ve made mistakes, both of us, in keeping secrets from each other.” A pause. “I made a mistake. I should have talked to you. You’re my best friend, after all.”

“But we didn’t, Killian.” And this is very dangerous, because there is a sob curled up in her throat that is very eager to come out, and she cannot, she cannot let it out.

She needs him to understand.

“Why didn’t we talk about it, Killian? Why didn’t you say anything? Why?”

And he’s staring at her with his big blue eyes, and she feels miles away from him.

He must feel it, he must know how wrong this whole situation is, for them to be with anyone else, he must feel it or she’s been wrong all along.

“Because –” he starts and she’s glad to hear his voice is quivering, too. “— because I care too much about you. I didn’t want it to change anything between us.”

The Christmas lights are so very sad suddenly. “But it has changed everything, Killian.” A snowflake lands on his black, tousled hair. It’s snowing.

“Are you mad at me for leaving?” he asks then, and it’s such a quiet whisper in the snow, she barely hears it.

Anger turns to sadness. It always does.

She peers at him through her eyelashes. “No. Yes. ” A pause, the cold is biting her lips. “I tried to hate you for leaving.” And then he looks sad, and she remembers his own sorrow, and guilt circles her throat. “But I couldn’t.”

Her tiny cold hand leaves the safety of her velvet pocket to grab his palm, and she hopes he hears it. I’ll love you until the end of time.

And in a heartbeat, she presses her lips against his scruffy cheek, discovers his skin cold and damp, and there is a stubborn, stubborn hope in her chest – the hope that he might turn his face at the last moment and drink her breath.

He doesn’t.

When she backs away, her hand lingers on his face as she gazes at him intensely – to remember the gentle shadow dropped by his thick eyelashes on his cheekbones, his cheeks that have turned crimson, and his lips, vibrantly red and tasting of chocolate, his entire face as she allows herself to run after him, one last time.

Her hand leaves his face for the cold wetness of his coat, the bracelet at her wrist ringing, ringing, but she cannot let go, not quite now.

“I’m sorry, Emma.” He whispers, and finally turns his face towards her. It’s unfair. He is twenty seconds too late.

Her heart skips a beat. She thinks it echoes all through the park.

“I never meant to hurt you.”

She nods, and she should find peace in that, but she doesn’t. And it’s fine. She doesn’t need peace, not when this soft flame burns within her. Not while it keeps her alive.

“I know that, Killian.” And she glances down at his lips, stares intensely at them, and she is this close from kissing him, this close, but he backs away, and she smiles – defeated. “Thank you for coming, even though you were busy.”

And she watches him lick his lips, frown. “I’d drop everything for you, Emma. I will always have your back.”

She nods, her heart bursting. Her hand falls down his arm, a pink petal dropped in the snow, and reluctantly settles for holding her cup of hot cocoa. It feels like something is being ripped from her flesh. But that is also fine.

She stares straight ahead, at the Christmas trees and the families, and she exhales: “Let’s go see that Christmas market, huh?”

“Aye.” And he stretches his hand for her to hold, and the tip of his fingers is red and frozen and, before she knows it, his lips are pressed against her cheek, and a flower blooms in Emma’s chest.

And when she looks up, she swears she sees him bend towards her, a liquid flame burning in his gaze, and her breath gets caught in her throat. But then he stops, and snow melts on her lips.

The distance between their bodies, the unfinished course of his lips towards hers, the heartbeat she misses, all of this is fine.

She links their arms as they walk, muffling the voices in her head. They tell her she shouldn’t play with fire, but she has nothing to lose anymore.

Killian throws their now empty cups of hot cocoa in a nearby bin while Emma calls Ingrid. A weird pang lingers in his chest. This crisp winter day carries Christmas smells with it that fill Killian’s lungs with nostalgia and a strange kind of hope.

As he watches Emma pace restlessly in front of him, unaware of her surroundings, he feels proud of her for reaching out to Ingrid first.

Killian watches as Emma clenches onto the phone, throws a strand of hair behind her back and frowns, heels clacking on the pavement, and he notices just how different she looks. Her hair has grown, and she styled it to form golden curls over the red of her coat. She’s wearing lipstick as well, a bright red shade, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen her with it.

She’s changing. Evolving without him. It shouldn’t feel like this, in his throat, but it does, and in a blink he looks down at his feet to conceal his feelings.

His thoughts go back to Neal then, Neal who’s hiding somewhere and he desperately wants to find him and smash his pretty, pretty face.

But then he hears the click of Emma’s black boots on the snow coated pavement, and he looks up, forcing a smile on his face. There’s not much else to do but smile.

“Come,” she smiles and grabs his arm, “Everything we need is right in front of us.”

Oddly enough, they spend a good day together, one that brings Killian back to summer nights and long walks along the beach, and her hand in his, and the feeling, the conviction that this would last forever.

As they eat crepes and toasted marshmallows and somehow their laughter echoes between New York’s brick buildings, forever is merely a word and they are fighting against the passing of time.

All of this is ephemeral. But then again, everything is. Perhaps it is the reason why he wraps his arms quite as hard around her when she whines “I’m so cold, so cold” by a street corner, and she is so small in the crook of his neck, and his lips linger on her forehead as a chuckle shakes both of their shoulders.

(They never join Mary Margaret and David.)

And when nighttime falls, and they’ve finally reached Mary Margaret’s building, and it is time to say goodnight and goodbye, always goodbye, he makes a conscious effort in memorizing the features of her face. The pavement shines, glints, glistens under New York’s street lights, wears its prettiest fluorescent feathers.

And Emma’s face is inhabited by that same green, wet light. Her curls have loosened throughout the day and a crown of baby hairs is escaping from her beanie. She only looks more beautiful and touching. Her cheeks and nose are red from the cold and her eyes are two green lakes shining with gentle sparkles and her mouth is wet and he desperately wants to kiss her.

It would be easy to cave in, lean forward and drink her breath. Easy to take advantage of her broken heart and mold it with his hands.

And then what? Emma does not like him like he does, Emma is in love with Neal, she always has been it seems, and kissing her wouldn’t lead anywhere but to more heartache.

And he thinks of Milah then, Milah who’s betrayed him but whom he deeply cares for and who is willing to be with him. Milah who loves him, and whom he might love, if only he allowed himself to.

He wants to tell Emma then, join me in my hotel room, I did not come all the way here just to spend a few hours with you, come lie next to me and we’ll – Sweet, sweet fantasy.

Where would that bloody lead them?

“So, this is it. I’m expecting you to call me once you’re safe and home at Ingrid’s,” he finally whispers, and he sees it, this strange glimmer in her eyes.

She’s smiling, nods, seems at peace.

“You never told me her name. What is it?” she suddenly asks.

Frozen, frozen snowflakes fall all around them. The fire burning between their two bodies is still excruciating.

“Milah.”

She nods again. Breathes in and, he’s starting to understand as well, lets go. Very resolute, very brave when she kisses his cheek – for just one instant. And then her lips vanish.

And she smiles again, and Killian finally understands he is losing her forever.

He watches as she carefully cuts the golden string tying her to him, and his hand has a small jolt but he is not quick enough to stop her.

“I’ll see you around, next summer, I guess,” she simply mutters and does not wait for his reply to turn around.

The din of her boots echo on the pavement, until it does not.

And just like that, he’s lost her.

Watching Ingrid’s yellow bug park in front of Mary Margaret’s building, this Sunday morning, really stirs something strange and unfamiliar in Emma’s chest. She doesn’t know quite why but suddenly there is this heavy, heavy weight on her chest and it is hard to breath.

“It was nice to have you here, Emma. Do come back, when you are not in trouble, some day,” smiles Mary Margaret, and then she’s wrapping her arms around Emma’s body.

And Emma breathes into her, and she thinks everything is terribly overwhelming, but maybe it is a good kind of overwhelming for once. She clutches onto her friend.

“Thanks, Mary Margaret. I’ll be more than happy to come back.”

And then David’s pulling her into another hug, and Emma starts to think life doesn’t suck as much as she wants to believe it.

Ingrid gets out of the car, rubbing her hands together. “Well well, they don’t lie about New York weather.”

And Emma cannot tell but her face is definitely splitting into a ridiculous, ugly smile, and her chin starts quivering. An ocean of unfamiliar emotions is swallowing her. But maybe, just maybe, as Ingrid’s green eyes find hers and shine so very softly, maybe she is allowed to feel them.

“Emma.”

“Ingrid.”

And then Emma doesn’t know who reaches first, it’s her, it’s her stretching her hand and grabbing Ingrid’s shoulder and pulling her against her, until the weight on her chest explodes into thousands of strawberry bubbles of happiness.

And it’s really hard to swallow the tears that threaten to come out of her eyes when Ingrid’s hand finds her scalp and gently massages it, and her smell fills her lungs, and she never realized Ingrid had a smell and that it smelled like home.

And then Ingrid’s lips are on her temples and Emma is nowhere to be found, melting into a puddle of glittering happiness.

And when she looks behind her back, Mary Margaret and David have disappeared.

“I’m sorry I ever made you feel like you couldn’t trust me, Emma.”

And then Emma shakes her head, nods, laughs a little. “It’s fine, Ingrid. It’s fine. It was equally my fault.”

Ingrid grins, her hands cupping Emma’s face, and Emma feels safe and loved, and she forgives both of them.

Emma learns during their car trip back to Storybrooke that Ingrid found the jewelry store where the watches were stolen, and she gave them back, and the shopkeeper was so happy he withdrew his complaint.

Neal is nowhere to be found. But Emma thinks that’s quite alright, because this pain will fade away with time as well.

And when Killian sends her a text “Safely landed. Already missing you”, Emma ignores it and shoves her phone down her bag.

This pain will fade away with time as well.

Six months before Emma’s wedding.

Emma’s running. She’s running like she’s never run before. Mind you, as deputy Sheriff of Storybrooke, for two years now since David left for New York, running is part of her job description. But she’s never run with this kind of fervor before.

She’s running as if Killian Jones might close his eyes and never wake up.

“Family?” asks the hospital nurse without a look at her.

Big, big pearls of sweat roll down Emma’s temples as she stares at the nurse with eyes wide open, trying to catch her breath. “Y-yes,” she lies, in the blink of an eye.

And then the nurse glances down at her left hand and Emma knows she sees the ring on her finger and thinks – but she is mistaken and it is fine.

“Alright. His room number is 815.”

And Emma turns around like a devil, like she’s possessed really, and she thinks she is, she is possessed by a fear that’s tearing her heart down and setting it on fire.

“Miss?”

“Mmm?” What again?

“You might want to prepare yourself. He was given a huge amount of morphine, to lessen his pain. He probably won’t be awake when you come in. ”

Emma nods, swallows downs a disinfectant smell that burns her tired lungs. If she could prepare herself she would. But there’s no preparing for that.

As she steps into Killian Jones’s hospital room, Emma feels like her heart is thrown at her feet and the whole world is joyfully trampling on it.

Her entire universe stopped spinning when she received the call. (She’s still his next of kin. That thought alone infuriates her.)

But as she faces him, lying still on this small bed, his skin, so pale, so pale he nearly seems dead, with his eyes resolutely closed and this enormous, horrendous bandage around his wrist, she wonders by which miracle her legs manage to hold her.

“Killian…”

She tries to convince herself she won’t cry then, but her eyes do not care for her pride and are soon filled to the brim with tears as a smile crinkles her face, but it’s not a smile, it’s a terrible, terrible sob that won’t come out.

She drags her boneless legs towards the bed, and then she’s faced with an awful dilemma: where to touch him, where to tether herself, and not to hurt him in the process?

Her eyes twitch, she blinks, and settles for brushing slightly his cheek.

“Hello there,” she whispers then, “Heard you had a very bad fall. I came as soon as I could.”

Flashes of Neal’s anger and disappointment and anger and more disappointment linger behind her eyelids. He was furious.

He couldn’t understand why she would drop everything, why she would drop him on the spot, just to save this childhood friend she hasn’t seen in a year.

“When, Emma, when are you going to choose me over him?”

And he tried to take her engagement ring away, the one she is turning around her finger, swirl, swirl, the golden ring, the golden cage.

A very viscous bile climbs back up her throat.

“I missed you,” she exhales, and clenches onto his bruised knuckles.

She gathers all of her willpower not to stare at the void, the void where his hand is supposed to be, and she licks her lips because she is scared this is one blow will simply be too much to withstand.

Life has a peculiar fondness for punching Killian Jones straight in the face, it seems.

Opening one’s eyes is really the most natural thing to do. Until one’s eyelids seem as heavy as lead, and there isn’t much for one to wake up to.

His life really fell apart, in those last months, huh. Which is why, as this bloody machine closed on his wrist during the ship’s inspection, Killian Jones really wasn’t that surprised. He would have chuckled if not for the pain, taunting Fate with a very sharp “Oh, is that what we’re going for now?”

That’s what he got for being promoted to Lieutenant. Any good Lieutenant made sure the ship’s mechanics were properly checked before sailing away. And he did, bloody hell.

It was the worst ship launching the Navy had seen in years. Killian would be proud if not for the pain, again.

And then he hears her voice. “Hello there,” and for a minute he fears he is dead.

But then her hand is on his face and the sun couldn’t possibly shine in hell, could it?

He wants to reach for her, but the only hand he has left refuses to move, and it is driving him mad. Her smell fills his lungs, fills it with ginger and herself and meaning.

And then she leaves the room and it is darkness and void and silence. And he wants to scream.

David and Mary Margaret stand up as one in the waiting room, as Emma shuts Killian’s door behind her.

Seeing them is such a relief, it makes her forget the pebbles in her belly for one instant.

“Emma, honey,” and Mary Margaret’s arms are around her, and it’s a wave of comfort. “We came as soon as we could.”

Emma drove all night from Storybrooke to Portsmouth and coffee is starting not to be enough to keep her eyes open.

“He still hasn’t woken up?” asks David as he presses his hand on Emma’s shoulder.

She shakes her head. “Nope. He went through surgery last night. He should wake up any time now.” This bitter taste in the back of her throat will not fade and the thousands of coffees she’s had only worsen it.

“How…How did Neal take it? Considering he was opening his pawnbroker’s shop this weekend?” risks Mary Margaret, in a very small voice.

Right. Neal.

Mary Margaret doesn’t mean to hurt Emma any further, but there it is, the weight on her finger, swirl, swirl, swirl.

“Bad. Very bad. But he’ll manage.”

Emma tries to ignore their concerned eyes then, because they know too much and she doesn’t want to prove them right. Although every inch of her being is probably giving her away anyway.

Swirl, swirl, swirl.

But she wants to belong to someone, and Neal knows her, in spite of everything, he knows her and he chose her, and it is enough. Hell, he fought for her, for two years, showing up every day at the sheriff station once he learnt Graham had taken Emma under his wing, he showed up and he showed her he cared.

And she quite literally put him through hell before giving him a second chance after his first betrayal.

“I never meant to let you go, Emma. I swear it to you, but the police were at my back and I couldn’t bring you into all of this. But I never stopped loving you, I never did, and I’ll love you until the end of time – only if you’ll let me.”

And sometimes, all one really wants is to be wanted, after all.

“Do we… Do we know if she’s coming?” asks Mary Margaret in a very quiet tone, as if she doesn’t want to utter the words.

Emma has a big sigh then. “No, she’s not. Killian definitively broke up with her three months ago.”

David and Mary Margaret both stare at her with something terrible in their eyes. Emma pretends she does not see it.

“He found out she’d been cheating. Again,” she lies. It’s easier this way.

Emma doesn’t tell them that Killian didn’t tell her about the breakup, and she just learnt about it from the mouth of Killian’s superior, doesn’t tell them they have hardly spoken since she started dating Neal again, and especially doesn’t tell them that Neal proposed three months ago and she sent Killian a text to which he never replied.

Nope. That’s a cross for her to bear.

He moves. Emma’s eyes shoot open. He moved . It wasn’t really perceptible, but she felt it, the small clench of his fingers around hers.

Emma sits up straight. She thinks he is frowning. This is good. This is good. He is waking up.

“Come on, Killian. You can do this. Push through this.”

And finally, finally , his eyelids flutter, flutter, until blue emerges and his eyes go wide. She smiles, and it’s the most genuine smile she’s had in months.

“Ems’,” he begins, a hoarse whisper. His throat must be dry.

She presses her fingers softly, swiftly, against his dry lips. “Shush, Killian, it’s going to be okay.”

She rushes to the small sink in his bedroom. A plastic cup was left there, and she fills it with water, before tenderly pushing it against Killian’s lips.

He closes his eyes, drinks slowly as her other hand cups the back of his head.

And then the cup is put down with her bravery, and she grabs his fingers. She sees the waves of terror in his eyes, the waves exhaustion cannot quite hide, and it reminds her of their childhood and she desperately wants to mend him, to soothe his soul, but there is so much to heal and he won’t let her.

She presses a very trembling kiss onto his forehead. She sees him close his eyes into her touch, and her entire being is screaming.

“Feared you wouldn’t come,” he manages to whisper. She watches as he swallows down.

She shakes her head. “Of course I’d come.” A pause. “You absolutely do not have permission to ever scare me like this again.”

He manages to smile, somehow. “You don’t have to worry about me, Swan. I’m a survivor.”

Her chin quivers then, and she hates herself because she should be the strong one. But it is exhausting to remain brave when he seems completely, utterly defeated.

“Fancy that red-leather jacket of yours.”

And he makes her chuckle, the bastard, he is the one lying on a hospital bed and he makes her chuckle.

“Thanks, Killian.” And she brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, and she sees it. The glint of her ring under the yellow ceiling light. And he sees it too.

And he stares at her ring then, that glints, glints, and a lightning bolt shatters the blue of his gaze and she wants to throw it away so that she will never have to stare at this deep, dark blue sea of sadness.

Instead, she smiles. There is not much else to do but smile.

“Neal?”

“Emma, I’m so glad you called. I wanted you to know that I’m sorry, and I understand, I really do…”

“Don’t bother apologizing. I just wanted to warn you that I’m going to stay a while with Killian. He needs me.”

“…He needs you? He needs you? What about your job? What about me, Emma?!”

“Graham agreed to this. He owes me so many days off. And I will ask you this once, Neal: quit talking about Killian as if he doesn’t matter, or I swear to god, I will give you back your ring. And there will be no third chance.”

“See? See how you react, Emma? As if I’m the villain in this stupid little story of yours and I am tired of th—”

She hangs up.

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#cs ff #cs fanfics #captain swan #my stuff #love emma #love rosie #do leave me your thoughts #they are always welcome #much love to you guys

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