#after I picked these 5 songs I immediately said sorry to I Hate It Here & Cassandra & How Did It End?

[cametotheshowinsd]

THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT: THE ANTHOLOGY | My Personal Top 5

[staticscreenwriting]

Where the heart is // B. B.

Summary: Bucky and (Y/N) are getting a divorce because they are silly and both love the other so damn much. (Happy Ending!)

TW: Talk of divorce. Talk of potential pregnancy and babies.

A/N: Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.] 

TAGLIST: Find the link to join my taglist in my bio. Will reblog this post with the taglist attached seperately. 

Waking up from this nightmare How's your life, what's it like there? Is it all what you want it to be? Does it hurt when you think about me? And how broken my heart is

The apartment is deadly quiet as Bucky steps inside, only the rattling of his keys echoing through the halls that once seemed so warm and inviting are now but a cold reminder of what used to be.

People never really talk about these moments. The after. The wreckage. The ruins of what used to be. Sure there are movies and books and countless songs but they take the feeling and they wrap it up in beautiful words and prose and make something beautiful of it.

There’s nothing beautiful in the way Bucky feels as his feet drag him towards what used to be his bedroom, which is now hers. There’s nothing beautiful in the way he feels as his eyes wander over to the closed door behind which lays an empty room. One that is empty not because of choice but because of the shitty cards life has dealt both him and her.

There is nothing beautiful about the way he feels. Only sadness. Only hurt.

When he turns the corner and steps into the bedroom, his heart drops for a second. He hadn’t expected her to be here, not with how quiet the place is. But sure enough, there she is. Sitting on the fluffy comforter they bought together, legs tucked underneath herself. She said that comforter was the exact same shade of blue as his eyes. Now she doesn’t even lift her head to look at him, focusing only on the box resting on the bed before her.

“Hey uh — I didn’t expect to run into you.”  

“ I live here. Sorry to disappoint.“

“ I know, that’s not what I meant. It’s just so quiet. “

She shrugs but still doesn’t look up. There’s so much resentment there, dripping from every word. He can’t fault her for it. Not even a little. If he was her, he’d hate himself too. Maybe this will make it easier for them. If she hates him, that’s a straight cut. Right? Hating is easy. It’s loving that’s hard.

“ It’s like that now. You here to get some of your stuff?” she asks, looking up at him for the first time. Her eyes are red and tired. Not like they were when he left, filled with tears and sorrow. Now they’re just infinitely sad and exhausted. Like all the life and all the warmth and all the passion that he fell so deeply in love with, has been sucked out of her. He hates knowing it’s partially his fault.

“ If that’s okay with you.”

“ sure. “

The movies and the poems and the books and the songs, they never talk about this. The after. The limbo. The “will you keep this or shall I take it?”

They don’t talk about the fact that you’re supposed to pack 5 years of relationship into a bunch of boxes and figure out what to do with it.

He quietly walks into the closet, as if making any noise would break whatever bubble is currently surrounding the two of them. Sometimes he wonders if things would be different had they been different people. Had they been able to express their feelings differently. Sometimes, in the most secret part of his heart, Bucky wishes there would’ve been screaming. Maybe screaming would’ve been helpful. Sure, it’s not the most eloquent way of communication but at least it is communication. But there was no screaming. Only silence. Only feelings swallowed up to never be spoken about. To suffocate them from the inside out.

Making as little noise as possible, Bucky grabs some of his clothes and stuffs them into the duffle bag Sam gave him. He had that look on his face, the pitiful one. The one that says “sorry, man”. There’s no reason to feel sorry for Bucky. This is his fault after all.

There’s a sound coming from behind him, and for a second he really believes it’s his mind playing tricks on him. But then he hears it again, louder this time, more clearly.

She’s laughing. Maybe not a full-on laugh but a chuckle. It’s been a while since he’s heard that sound.

“ What’s got you laughing like that ? “ Bucky asks as he turns back around only to be greeted by her smiling face. God how much he misses that smile.

She looks back down towards the box in front of her and the picture in her hand.

“ It’s uh — it’s a picture of the first time you stayed over. “

His legs carry him towards the bed as if they work on autopilot. As he sits down next to he can just about make out the scent of her shampoo. The one he bought for himself last week, not because he necessarily likes to use it. He bought it because he misses the scent. Because he misses her. And if he can keep her close like this, even for a small moment, he’ll buy an entire store's worth of shampoo.

Her fingers gently grip the picture so as to not rip or crumble it. He can’t hold back the smile that pulls at the corner of his lips as he recognizes the picture. It’s a slightly less gloomy version of him, in love and asleep. Curled up on her old tiny couch in her old tiny apartment with her dog Yoda sleeping soundly on his chest. He was so nervous to stay over at her place the first time he did. Nervous about so many different things but mostly about doing something to hurt her. Physically but also emotionally. To think that now his biggest fear came true, crushes his heart even further.

“ I miss Yoda. He was a good dog,” she says as she puts the photo back into the box. Truth be told, Bucky misses him too. He was grumpy and lazy and he didn’t ever really listen to them. But he was loyal and cuddly and all in all, he was the perfect dog for the two of them. And he had accepted Bucky into his and her life immediately. As if he knew that Bucky of all people needed nothing more than a chance to prove himself to be something other than a killer.

There are more pictures in the box, alongside other clutter that Bucky can’t quite make out. One of the other pictures he can see clearly, is one of the two of them on their first Halloween. The Halloween that Bucky didn’t want to dress up for. The one he promised himself he would spend curled up on his couch watching a scary movie and not open the door to anyone, Trick or Treaters or otherwise.

He ended up going out anyway. With her. FOR her. And it was one of the best nights of his life even if it meant he had to dress up like a skeleton.

“ What is all this? “ he asks though, by the way his heart starts beating faster, Bucky isn’t sure he even wants to know the answer to that question. “ You getting rid of our pictures? “

He doesn’t want it to sound so accusatory. They’re broken up. Separated. In the early process of a divorce. She has every right to get rid of their pictures. Get rid of him. Bury the memories. Just because he can’t let go doesn’t mean that she’s grieving in the same way.

“ No, “ she scoffs and pulls out a small scrap of paper, “ this is a memory box I started when we first got together. It’s things I didn’t know where to put but that I wanted to hold on to. I had planned to give it to you for our 10 year anniversary but … well “

She doesn’t have to say it. He knows.

“ Then after the — seperation I put some other stuff in there. Memories.” 

“ Can I see what else is in there? “ he asks “ since I won’t get to see it on our 10 year anniversary.”

Bucks isn’t quite sure why he adds that to the end of his sentence. It makes him sound spiteful and mean and he can tell, by the look on her face, that it hurts her. And he’s done enough of that in the past. Isn’t that exactly the reason they are here in the first place?

She considers it for a moment and Buck can only guess the different kinds of emotions running through her then. He feels them too. All of them. They are confusing and most of them are negative. She has no reason to let him see this, relish in sweet nostalgia with him as if everything is okay and they’re not getting a fucking divorce.

“ Sure, I guess. I —  yeah.”

She scoots more to the middle of the bed, making more space for Bucky to sit down properly. He’s perched on the side that was his. The side he fell asleep on and woke up on so many times. And she was there next to him. Always there and warm and soft. And she’d smile at him through sleepy eyes and a hazy mind and she’d rival the sun. And then she’d gently comb her fingers through his hair and say good morning and he knew it would be — a good morning.

He hasn’t had a good morning since he left.

She moves the box to sit between them on the bed and motions for Bucky to start digging in.

There’s a pile of what he realizes are old movie tickets. It's something they used to do when they first started dating. Thursdays were movie days. But while everyone went to see the new blockbusters, the two of them would pick the movies that sounded the weirdest and they’d buy a big bucket of popcorn and blue raspberry slushies and just relish in the grandeur that is bad cinema. Most of the time they were the only ones at the cinema. Sometimes things got — R rated.

“ Why did we stop doing this? “ she asks as Bucky looks up from the tickets “ going to the movies I mean. It was always my favorite day of the week. “

He tries to remember. Tries to pinpoint the moment when life changed and their Thursdays weren’t their Thursdays anymore. He can’t. He comes up empty.

Sometimes life changes in little ways, ones you don’t realize at that moment and they don’t seem significant either. It’s a broken tradition. A missed movie night. It’s slow and creeping but at some point, you stop and look at your life now and it doesn’t resemble your life then anymore. Everything has changed and you didn’t even notice. Not for one single second.

“ I have —  I have no idea. “ he has to confess.

“ Remember that movie with the killer florist ? “ she asks and her voice is laced with laughter. Something sparks up in his heart. A tiny flicker of something he’s missed. Something he hasn’t felt in a while. He can’t help but laugh along.

“ I do! Or the one where the woman fell in love with the Koi in her neighbor's pond? ”

“ Oh god! That was terrible. “

“ It was.”

She looks wistful for a moment as if her thoughts wander off to some long-forgotten memory.

“ What are you thinking about? “

He never usually had to ask her. He’d either know or she’d tell him on her own accord. It’s like there’s an invisible wall between them. One he wants to break down or climb over so badly. But does she want him there? After everything?

“ The day we saw that movie was the first time you said I love you. “

It’s true. Now that she mentions it he remembers it so clearly. It’s like he’s suddenly faced with a scene from a movie he’s forgotten about a long time ago but once someone mentions it, he remembers it in great detail. Knows every word. Every line.

“ I still don’t quite know what it was about that moment that made you say it but — “ she trails off, a smile playing on her lips.

Bucky knows. It wasn’t a groundbreaking realization back then. He’d been feeling it for months. Fell deeper in love with her with every glance, every smile, every silly movie he got to watch with her. They went to some dingy diner after the movie to grab a burger and some fries. The leather seats were old and the filling was spilling out, the air smelled of grease and air freshener, and the laminated menu cards were sticky with undefinable stains. All things considered, it should’ve been a bad date. It wasn’t though. Nothing was ever bad with her. She smiled. All she did was smile and hum along to some song Bucky didn’t know as it spilled from the jukebox. And it occurred to him then, that there was no need for a big gesture or a special moment. Every moment with her was special. Life couldn’t get any better than this. Existing was enough if only she was there.

“ Nothing. “

“ Hm? “

“ There was nothing special about that moment. I just realized that I would be okay with anything if only you are there. You — that’s all I need in life. “

She looks at him then and for a second he thinks that maybe she’ll kiss him. Tell him that they are making a mistake and ask him to come back. Tell him that she doesn’t blame him. That she forgives him. That she wants him anyway. Despite — everything. She doesn’t though. Just sighs and pulls another picture from the box.

It’s a picture of the two of them cuddled up on the couch with a tiny white ball of fluff resting on her chest.

“ Our first picture with Alpine. “

“ That was taken on the day we found him. Look, you can clearly see the scratches on my face from crawling around the dumpsters to rescue him. “ Bucky points out.

He had never thought of himself as a cat person. Really he wasn’t so much an anything-person anymore, after Hydra. But somehow that little cat had wormed his way into his heart and refused to leave.

“ Was worth it though! “

Bucky nods his head in agreement “ it was. “

“ You should — you should take him. He’s really more your cat than mine.”

“ He’s our cat.” he points out.

“ Bucky there won’t be an ours anymore. Soon.”

It breaks his heart. Over and over again. He just got used to being himself. The version he was when he was with her. How is he gonna deal with doing it all over again? He doesn’t want to be a version of himself after her.

“ I don’t have a place yet and Sam’s allergic. “

“ He can stay here until then, of course. I love him. “

There’s a lot of love there that’s being given up on, Bucky realizes. And he hates every part of it.

“ Shit, remember this? “ she chimes up again as her hand holds onto a thin receipt, the black ink bleached away and thinned out from years of being stuck in a box. From years of memories fading.

“ Is that from the —”

“ The tattoo place, yeah. “

The patch of skin on the inside of his arm grows hot as if he is suddenly aware of what is there. Something long forgotten. A small letter forever etched into his skin in black ink like the way she’s forever etched into his heart. Always there. Forever. Just like the delicate lines that write his own name onto her collar bone. James. Not Bucky. Not Winter Soldier. James.

“ Oh god, I can’t believe you kept these,” Buck exclaims as he picks a pair of bright blue knitted socks from the box. They’re made from scratchy wool and there are a million and one holes in them. It’s so her. So quintessentially her. To keep them. With their holes and their scratchy wool and all. Even if they’re a mess. Even if they’re broken. She holds onto things no matter how bad. No matter how lost and sad and broken and useless. She holds on tight and doesn’t let go. Unless you make her. Unless you force her to. Unless you break her heart.

“ Umm … you made them for me. Like you literally learned how to knit to make me a pair of socks to keep my feet warm. That is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me, Buck. Of course, I kept them. “

Bucky bashfully shrugs his shoulders, a tint of red dusting his cheeks. “ I’m glad you liked them. Even if they’re scratchy. “

“ I like you and Alpine and you guys are the scratchiest,” she points out. She’s not wrong.

“ Was I a good boyfriend? “ Bucky asks and while in the grand scheme of things it really doesn’t matter, he wants to know anyway. Wants to know he did something right.

“ You were the best boyfriend. “

“ I’m sorry I was a shit husband. “

She stays quiet for a moment and with every second that passes by he breaks more and more. He wonders how much of him is left at this point. How much there’s still to lose. Then again, what does it matter? He lost her and that’s all that really matters.

“ You weren’t a shit husband, Bucky. “

It’s like the world suddenly moves in slow motion as they both grab the 2 things left in the box.

Bucky holds onto the blue velvet box knowing exactly what’s inside. The last time he held it, got on his knees in front of her, put the ring on her finger, that was one of the best days of his life. A sign that the Winter Soldier was his past and that he could finally truly move on. They were younger, in love. Happy. Now he hardly remembers what happiness feels like.

“ I was so nervous to give this to you. Not because I thought you’d say no or anything. I just — I just wanted to be enough. The ring and the proposal and — me. “

“ You were always enough. “ she says and he can hear the tears in her voice. It’s thick and heavy and he knows that if he looks at her now, there will be tears in her eyes too.

But he doesn’t look at her then. His eyes fall onto the piece of fabric in her hands. It’s so small. Soft peached colored with a little bunny embroidered on the front. It’s tiny and cute and it belongs to no one. It’s tiny and it should’ve been theirs. But it isn’t.

“ No, I wasn’t. He says and shakes his head. You deserve more than I can give you. “

She throws the baby romper back into the box and gets off the bed as if someone has set it on fire.

“ What’s wrong? “ he asks as if he doesn’t know. Everything. Everything about this situation is wrong. They’re supposed to make love on this bed, not cry over memories long gone. Push away thoughts of their looming divorce.

“ I don’t know, Bucky. Maybe you can tell me. “ She calls out to him as she pulls the rest of his shirts from the closet and throws them into the bedroom. Colors of fabric flying through the air like wings of a bird flapping through the winds. Some of them she lops at him, passion and anger and wrath and sadness filling her eyes. “ Maybe you can tell me why the fuck we’re doing this. Why we’re putting ourselves through all this pain and suffering and this bullshit divorce. Maybe you can tell me why you left me to have a fucking breakdown every time I walk into my closet and see this goddamn dress, “ she cries while holding up the hanger over which her beautiful white wedding dress is draped. God, she looked so beautiful that day. Like a goddess. Like an angel. Like his redemption.

“ We were happy. We were trying to have a family. And then what — it doesn’t work and you leave? You just gave up. “

“ I didn’t give up. “

“ Yes, you fucking did! You gave up and you served me divorce papers and you didn’t even give me a fucking choice. “

“ You agreed! “

“ Because I love you and if you don’t want to be with me, then I am not keeping you. I love you enough to let you be happy even if it’s without me.”

Those words send a shock through his heart. Like an icicle. Cold and sharp and unforgiving.

“ You think I don’t love you? You think YOU are the reason?,” Bucky questions before grabbing the romper from the box and holding it up “ this is the reason. This is my fault and mine alone. It’s my fault that this belongs to no one. It’s my fault that there’s an empty room in this apartment that you can’t walk into because it hurts you too much to see it empty. You deserve to be a mother and clearly, I can’t give that to you. That’s the burden I carry but it’s not one that should be put on you. I can’t give you this but you deserve it and you should have it. So this is me letting you go so you can find someone that can give you a baby. Someone who isn’t broken. Someone who doesn't have a body that doesn’t work anymore. Not in the way it should. “

“ James, “ her words a but a whisper as his name tumbles from her lips and she lets her wedding dress fall to the floor to sit next to him and hold his face in between her hands. “ That wasn’t your fault and you are not broken. I want a family, yes. I want a child. But with you. I want a family with you and it doesn’t matter if it’s my blood or not. It’s our family whichever way we decide to do this. And if we — if we stay just us and Alpine that’s fine too. I just want you and whatever else we decide on. Together. I love you, James. I love you and I miss you and I don’t want a baby if it’s not with you. A family means nothing if it doesn’t include you. Whatever the consequences of the serum are, they are not your fault. You are not broken, James. You are you. You’re a hero. A husband. And maybe one day a father but above all, you are James Buchanan Barnes, a survivor and you are not broken.  “

He knows he should be saying so many things right then but all his thoughts get tangled up and won't find the way to his lips.

Instead, he says the only other thing he can think about right then.

“ You looked so beautiful in your wedding dress. “

She laughs through the flood of tears that leak from her eyes and trail down her face.

“ I mean you always look beautiful but that day. My god. I honestly couldn’t believe you said yes to me — of all people. 106 year old me. Wouldn’t believe it until the moment you walked down the aisle. Then I knew that this was really the start of my new life. Of my forever. “

“ I miss you Bucky. “

“ I miss you too. “

“ I don’t want to divorce you. I want to be your wife and I want you to be my husband.”

“ Even without the babies? “

“ Yes, “ she nods and brushes her fingers through his short hair. “ You are my family James and you are enough for me. Always”

“ I love you. “ he says because really, it’s the only thing he can think of. The thing he wants most. The only thing that matters.

Without another word, he pulls the ring from the box and delicately slips it back onto her finger. Where it belongs. Where it always belonged.

“ I’m sorry I was ever this stupid. I should’ve just talked to you “

“ Yeah you should have but right now can you — can you just kiss me? “

She doesn’t need to ask him twice. He kisses her once, then twice, then once again. It’s been a long long time since the last time he’s kissed her. Too long. Way too long.

He’s not gonna stop anytime soon. Never again. Never ever again.

“ Hey, “ he says “ how about you slip into your wedding dress I think for all my stupid decisions I owe you a dance. “

“ I think you might be right. “

And she’s smiling, so bright and radiant. Like the sun. Like all the stars. Like his own personal light in the darkness.

“ Don’t expect too much though. I just cried, my hair is a mess — I won’t look the way you remember me looking in this dress. “

“ You’ll look gorgeous.”

And he’s right. She looks breathtaking. She looks like a wonderful, wonderful dream. Like love captured in a person. Like a second chance. Like his home.

There are a lot of thoughts racing through Bucky’s mind as he pulls her close and they sway to the melodic tunes of their wedding song as it sounds from the speakers of her cellphone. But above all there’s love. And the knowledge that he is enough. That they are enough. Their tiny little family. Perfect and not broken or missing anything. It’s good as it is.

They don’t have to think about who gets to keep the decorative throw pillows, the records they used to collect together, the plates that were a wedding gift, the cat. Because it’s theirs. Together. Shared.

And forever.

[stopeatingwhales]

the 1995 brits (pt. 2) x damon albarn & liam gallagher

ok this has nothing to do with the brits bc now its about glastonbury 1995 i just didn't know whether i should rename it lmaoo okay enjoy x

Pairing: 1995 damon albarn & liam gallagher x reader

Warnings: none at all

Word count: 2.495

part one

༉‧₊˚✧

The Glastonbury festival was always one of the best gatherings for music every year. All the best acts in the music would all be invited to perform, and it was amazing. It formed a unity, a connection between the fans and the artists, the creators and the consumers, morphing an atmosphere which only gentrified the solidarity and wholeness the nation felt when they all held adoration to the same album, same songs, singing the choruses from their hearts, with their whole being. It was a spiritual connection with the audience; you weren’t singing to them, you were singing with them. Nothing got as good as Glastonbury - a concert size any larger you would begin to feel detached with the audience - and boy was it a good feeling to be invited this year. Our band had blown up massively, and to be able to perform on the main stage, celebrating the summer and the true joys that music is able to provide and attain, is more than just doing your part. It’s a humbling experience; the lyrics that may have seemingly been written down as a daft thought on the back of a napkin whilst you were sitting having a coffee, relaxing in the tedious cycle that is life, being chanted back to you, shows the true connection those can have with simple melodies and lyrics. Once it’s released in any format, the music, the lyrics, the melodies, they aren’t yours; just as a book, once released, is not the authors’ anymore. It possesses the ownership of the public, that who purchases it, wears it out, listens to the songs back to back to memorise every single lyric and adlib. The songs become the nation's songs, they become the mere link to a dozen memories of each and every person, which they would take to their grave, remembering the good times, and potentially the bad. The true power of music is that it forms a connection - not just with the artist, but with yourself. You can relate to whatever has been said, you can understand yourself just that bit more which allows you to grow as a person, and mature and better into the person that you were set out to be.

I was standing backstage, currently watching the performance lead by Blur, trying to hide from any form of authority who would know that I wasn’t supposed to be back here yet. My band was on in a few hours, so I wasn’t permitted backstage, the only people allowed being the group that was on next. As I admired the performance being put on by Damon and the rest of the band, mumbling lyrics every now and again of songs that I had known from their albums, I felt an arm snake its way around my waist, the grip of the person’s palm squeezing my hip slightly. “Now how come I haven’t seen your pretty face in a while?” said Liam, who was grinning at me widely.

Since the Brit awards, I forced myself to stop partying as much as I used to, due to the addiction that had been stemming from my consistent use of drugs and alcohol. It began to take its toll on me entirely, and I hated the lifestyle that I had started to inhabit. Sex, booze, drugs... they all seem so wonderful, and seem to be fundamental elements that could provide an enjoyable time, don't they? But with repetitive use of such recreational activities, it would not only initiate the worst hangovers, but would also form a pit of longing in the body, endured with your attempt to fill it up with all the illegal pharmaceuticals to make you feel whole again, but of course, the happiness only lasts for a short while before you’re passed out on a couch, waking up at 5 in the afternoon with a raging headache and the only access to pain medication being a five minute walk to the nearest corner shop because you had finished it all. And to your surprise, the pit only got more deep and paining. It was ironic; the drugs designed for jubilation, euphoria, fulfillment, started to make me feel worse than I had already done previously. “I’ve just been caught up with working on the new album, so I’ve been too focused on that to be going out like I used to,” I replied, a grin masked over my lips. It was far from a lie; my band were currently working on our third album, and it had been quite an interesting experience as we were reinventing our sound, though wasn’t the main reason I had avoided all clubs in sight. “You miss me?”

“Course I do, you’re the only girl I know that’ll go as hard as the rest of the lads,” a frown painted over his face as he looked down on me. “It’s hot, y’know.”

I scoffed, my smile still evident on my face. “Oh Liam, you’re going to make me blush!” I joked, placing my arm around his waist. We both carried on watching the performance being led by Damon, who currently had the crowd screaming over the top of their heads at Girls and Boys. Oasis were on after - even these concerts were chipping in on the mess of their feud. “You nervous?”

“Me? Nervous? Never.” Liam replied, snarling at my question.

“Really?” I asked, diverting my stare to look up at Liam, my eyebrows raised in a sarcastic manner. Even though it wasn’t evident from his facial expression, everybody would be nervous. Especially if you were performing on the main stage in a few minutes.

“Okay, maybe a little bit.” He mumbled, staring at Damon with a look of disgust on his face.

“Knew it,” I grinned, allowing my hand to run up and down his back as a form of comfort to soothe his nerves. The tight grip he kept consistent on my waist proved that he felt tense. “You’ll be amazing, you always are.”

“You hitting on me?” he quickly fired back, cocking his head to the side as he admired me, his gaze flicking to my lips every now and again.

“Of course I am.” I sarcastically replied, rolling my eyes at Liam’s child-like characteristics. By now Blur had finished their set, leaving the crowd screaming and waving things in the air as a form of goodbye. Me and Liam stayed put in our place as the four boys waltzed off the stage, me congratulating them as they walked off one by one. Damon was the last to walk off, and as he began strolling off the stage proudly, our eyes connected, causing me to dart my stare away from his robust glare that had reflected off of his orbs. Knowing of his distaste in Liam, I brushed it off immediately, remembering the pettiness of their argument the last time we had all been together at the Brits. I heard Liam utter some profanity under his breath after Damon walked past us, but I chose not to question him on it, full-well knowing it was either wanker or cunt.

When the rest of the band turned up and Oasis were on cue to go on, Liam quickly detached himself from our embrace, pressing his lips to my cheek, grinning at me widely. “Don’t miss me too much!” he shouted as he walked onto the stage, causing the crowd to erupt into a fit from the mere sight of the band getting themselves ready - Liam just standing there cooly, picking up the tambourine left on the floor for him. I marvelled at the band as they began their set, instantly grinning as soon as Liam began singing the lyrics to Rock n Roll star. Let’s hope he’s not walking off stage this time.

I continued to concentrate on their performance, oftentimes laughing as the crowd progressively got more and more rowdy, screaming the lyrics as Liam sang them, as if Noel’s backing vocals weren’t enough to keep the song going to its full potential. “I wonder when you’re going to realise that you like me.” I heard a voice mutter from behind, causing me to abruptly turn my head, even though I knew exactly who it was. My eyes were greeted with the sight of Damon, a small smirk illustrated on his lips as he glued his eyes on mine - just like he had done before when he walked past me and Liam.

“I’m sorry?” I scoffed, raising my eyebrows at his clearly egotistical assumption, though I couldn’t help but resist a smile to contract on my cheeks as I gazed at him. Much like me and Liam, we also hadn’t spoken since the Brit awards, and it would’ve been a lie if I hadn’t wanted to talk to him again. Despite the fact that there was a certain tension between us that, from each meeting, seemed to intensify, and was something we were both clearly aware of, I ignored it entirely - even if my bandmates had teased me religiously every time they saw me have an encounter with him. Go out with him already! You two are constantly flirting!

Moving away from where I was standing, I made my way over to him to be able to talk over the loud music seeping out of the speakers, instead of shouting at one another. We then exited the backstage area together, welcoming us to the view of a plain grassland where a couple trailers had been parked, both of our bands included. Eventually, we walked to one of the random trailers, assuming it was his one, and stood against the shiny metal impediment as we shared a cigarette.

“Don’t act like it’s not true,” he replied casually, him reciprocating my grin as we began to walk further into the backstage space. “I saw the way you were eyeing me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I replied, attempting to act oblivious towards his statement. I could feel him gawking, focused on me as I admired the blooming sunlight that casted out towards us, the light so bright that it caused my eyes to tear up slightly. The music was still very much audible, and the screams of the many thousands jammed together in the mosh pit were still extremely loud.

“Oh, but you do.” he mumbled, causing me to shift my view to look at him. He had now fixated his stare onto the sun, the cigarette softly placed between his lips as he inhaled quickly before taking it out and allowing the built-up smoke from his lungs to escape into the atmosphere. Dropping the tobacco roll onto the ground, he placed his foot over it in order to burn it out, then turning his head to fixate his gaze onto mine. A brief moment of silence passed as we admired one another, the atmosphere carrying an element of apprehension as to what was about to occur between us. Through my peripheral I saw moving his body slightly to come closer to mine as he lifted his back off the metal surface and stood in front of me, my gaze not daring to leave him. Our eyes maintained strong eye contact as I felt my cheeks began to heat up furiously, followed by my attempt on telling myself that it was simply due to the sun’s radiance that my face held such warmth, almost as if to doubt the feelings, the tensions that had constantly piled up every time we had seen one another.

Our noses touched as our faces then became inches apart, my eyes focused on Damon, who kept darting his eyes to my lips every few seconds. Tilting his head slightly, he leaned his body forward, softly pressing his lips onto mine. We stood there for a few seconds, to allow the moment to truly sink in. His hands were gently placed on my waist as I placed them on his arms, like a form of support to allow myself to stay upright. After a while, I snaked my hands around his neck in order to deepen the kiss, the warmth of his lips colliding against mine sending shocks all around my body - the moment didn’t feel real at all. It was as if this entire time of me knowing of him, interacting with him, being in his presence, I had attempted to avoid myself catching feelings, not getting myself engraved in a situation with another musician, but due to my mind forcing such a hindrance, it became an inevitability - I caught feelings for Damon Albarn.

As we pulled away to catch our breaths, Damon leaned back, sneaking his arms around my waist as he looked down on me. “You liked that.”

“Shut up.”

“Can’t wait for Liam to find out about this.” he grinned, playing with strands of my hair as I glared at him. I knew he was aware of the glare I was giving him, because he seemingly began to grin even wider.

“He won’t, because you’re not going to tell him.” I replied bluntly, placing my hands on his chest as I began to draw little circles over his shirt. It felt so surreal, yet so normal - there was a certain amenity shared between us proving that what was felt in the past was indeed real, and indeed reciprocated.

“Always knew you’d give in one day.” he mumbled, a devilish grin painted on his lips.

“Really?” I scoffed. “Even when the tabloids were convinced me and Gallagher were an item?” I asked, staring straight into his eyes. I noticed him frown slightly after the question left my mouth, my lips attempting to form into a smile as I broke off his smug persona.

“Well it looks like you’ve left Liam to be with me.” he grinned, our eyes connecting once again. I took his hand away from my hair to interlace it with mine, holding it close to my chest for Damon to be able to feel my heartbeat. Even though anybody could have opened their trailer door and witnessed us in such an affectionate state, none of that seemingly mattered to either one of us. Everything that had occurred between me and Damon felt so perfect, to the point that I would want somebody to come and witness the true beauty of this moment. There was a strong feeling in my chest that I wanted him to feel, to understand, that what was occurring between us truly meant something, and wasn’t just a silly little play to mess with my feelings.

“Liam’s not that bad you know.”

“I’m just joking, love, don’t worry.” he mumbled, bringing our interlaced hands to his face to allow him to kiss the back of my hand. “You wanna go get something to eat before you head on?”

“Sure, I’d love to.” I said, forcing us to detach our bodies from our embrace and walk over to one of the food stalls, hand in hand.

[thestarsanctuary]

BNHA CHARACTERS SEEING YOU DRESSED UP FOR THE FIRST TIME

definitly a random post but whatever.

Gender Neutral reader. Let me know if there are any pronouns or indicators that aren’t that!

BAKUGOU -

Bakugo was waiting for you at the formal party that UA waa having for the end of the year and in all honesty, he wanted to leave. Bad.

It wasn’t you, it could never be you, but it was all these people, and the awful music and dancing, it was too much for him without you there, and he looked like an idiot because he was just standing there making him want to leave even more. But then you came.

And wow did everything that he hated on before become so irrelevant so fast. Record time honestly, but he couldn’t help it. Here you are in this gorgeous dress, and wait...makeup? Seriously? Score, Bakugou thought of this as an absolute score. He couldn’t even respond properly when you said hi but quickly covered it with annoyance.

“I’ve been waiting for 15 minutes why’d it take you so long? And why couldn’t I come get you so I wouldn’t have to wait in this disaster.” He spat, avoiding your eyes just slightly.

“Ah, sorry Katsuki! My hair wasn’t really cooperating so it took longer than I expected...but I’m here now!” You grinned, and he couldn’t even find it in him to argue more.

You just looked so good.

“Yeah yeah alright, lets go extra the others are waiting over there.”

“Why didn’t you go over there before I came then?”

“I didn’t want to go without you.” He didn’t want to go at all at this point, he just wanted to be with you and you only.

As you two reached most of class 1-A you could see everybody so dressed up, it was a bit of a spectrum honestly, all the girls were talking amongst each other but quickly stopped when they saw that you had come and you were bombarded with compliments.

“Ahh you look so good!”

“Where did you get that dress from?! God?!”

“Literally how do you look like this and you get with Bakugou?”

“HEY EXTRA SHUT YOUR TRAP.”

“truth is truth.”

Conviniently enough one song that you absolutely adored came on and interrupted the entertaining banter going on as you dragged Katsuki onto the dance floor. Although he didn’t really move at first he slowly began to try his best and attempt to dance. Only for you would he do something so ridiculous.

You two had been dancing for who knows how long, maybe 10-20 minutes but it felt like two the way you had been smiling so wide, and been so happy to be there. It made Katsuki feel so lucky to have somebody who enjoys him as much as he does them.

After Katsuki had said he got tired and left, he saw you had went to dance with the girls and you looked so confident and happy, it made him feel so infatuated with you. If anything. Obviously he liked you, he wouldn’t date you if he didn’t, but he had never seen you look this good and act like this, it was almost tol good to be true. But it quickly ended because he was getting a bit jealous of how close the others were.

“Hey extra, let’s go sit down before you whine and complain because your feet hurt.”

“How did you even know-

“Shut up and just come with me, they have drinks.” Quickly, off you two went.

The rest of the night was plenty calm, with the exception of Denki or Mineta being their usual selves and getting caught by Aizawa numerous times.

“Katuski~” you whispered, as he looked to you with a side glare.

“What do you want.”

“Nothin’ but just wanted to say thank you for coming tonight, I loved being with you.” You had NEVER seen him this red before. People actually could’ve thought he was dying by the aggressive tone of red.

“I- thank you. I love you.” He whispered back, a bit embarrassed to say it in his usual tone, he was okay saying these things to you because he knew you felt the same. And that’s all it is.

“I love you.” You smiled and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as he held you hand, rubbing the back of your palm.

“....can we go to your house and watch movies or somethin’ this is incredibly annoying now. All these lights and this trashy music, your house is at least a little less trashier than this.” He said louder this time, and once you had stood up he immediately led you outside only to kiss you softly.

“I love you a lot. Don’t forget it.”

TODOROKI -

You and Todoroki had agreed to meet up at the zoo for your first date, as you adored animals and Todoroki...tolerated them.

Shoto arrived first, mostly because he was a good 5 minutes early. He liked to be on time, everytime. It showed that he cared, and it also gave him time to think about how he wanted to talk and approach you, because honestly, he had no clue what he was supposed to do. He quickly texted Midoriya (like he should have done before) to help him calm himself down but right after he sent the text he looked up and saw you walking towards him and.....you looked stunning.

“Hi! How long were you waiting for me?” You asked with a hint of playfulness.

“Um, not long, maybe 5 minutes, really nothing long.” He stumbled a bit with his words, and his cheeks were kind of red, but he still managed to make you feel shy. “I like your outfit, the skirt is really nice” he said, and you laughed and did a tiny spin.

“You think? I don’t wear skirts that often to be honest with you. I only really wear the one at school.” You said and he didn’t react but simply nodded.

“You should more often. I think you look pretty in them.” Yup, there it was, and now the roles have reversed.

“Okay okay, enough of that, let’s go!” You grabbed his hand and inside you went.

Todoroki had been walking around basically just listening to you talk the whole time, and when you didn’t speak it was a comfortable silence. You hadn’t released his hand either. Not that he minded, if anything he held it a bit tighter.

However, there was one thing Todoroki was constantly doing. Looking at you. There wasn’t even a hint of embarrassment. When you two left the zoo to go get lunch whenever you looked up he was looking at you. He seemed a bit more well....affectionate? Not that he was all over you with hugs and kisses, but he insisted on holding your hand, and when driving you back home he kept complimenting you. The whole time.

“I like your hair today, it looks really good.”

“I like your shoes, where did you get them from?”

“Those socks are cool, why are they so long?” At this point you weren’t sure if he was trying to create conversation or he was generally interested but either way it was so cute to you. He even asked to take photos with you, and offered to send them to you. As if he was just going to keep them for himself.

Once you had finally reached your house he thought you were going to simply leave but you invited him inside, and obviously he wasn’t going to decline, so he went inside.

You had made him and yourself some drinks and carried them back to the living room.

“So...is there a reason you’ve been all lovey-dovey on this date? Not that I mind, I’m just curious, is this your hidden persona?” You question, giving him an adorable grin.

“Ah...no- I, I thought you looked really pretty. And you still do, you always do, but I wanted to reassure you so I thought being more affectionate would help you know that I liked you.” He stated and he looked so serious but his cheeks were so red, it was probably the cutest thing you had seen and heard from Shoto yet. So you did what any sane person would do with Shoto Todoroki in front of them. You kissed him.

It was quick, nothing extensive and definitely nothing heated, but it was effective. Because now you had Todoroki wrapped around your finger. He just looked at you, mouth agape with shock, but he wouldn’t look away. Was he even blinking?

“Sho, would you like to stay over tonight? We can watch movies and y’know, just get to know each other more.”

“Yes. Yeah I- I would like that.” Whatever you had said Shoto would probably say yes to anyways. He swore it was you and the skirt.

It was simply just you.

MIDORIYA -

Midoriya is a simple guy. Whoever he likes is going to know. So when he found out you were going to ask him out to go to the formal on Friday from Mina, he was basically panicking. What is he supposed to do? Should he wait for you or keep on with his day? When are you confessing? Should he do it first? There were too many questions in his mind. He didn’t know what to do or how to respond when you actually asked him out either.

“So, did you want to go out with me?” You had asked after school, which definitely caught Midoriya off guard because you were not off school grounds and you were definitely not in private. You were literally still in the classroom for God’s sake he could see Uraraka shaking Iida from here.

“I- um, I’m not exactly sure why you’re going with me but yeah! That would be awesome!” He said, trying to play it cool. If he thought of you like a friend he could talk to you better but he couldn’t deny his obvious feelings for you.

“I think you’re cute, and I like you anyways so I’d rather go with you. How about you pick me up at 6 on Friday yeah?” Midoriya has officially died. Inside of his head but that’s basically the same thing as the literal meaning.

“Oh yeah! I can do that! I’ll uh, see you there!” You smiled at his immediate response and kissed his cheek before giving him a quick ‘great’ and walking off with your group of squealing girls and whining boys. (Denki really tried to make a bet that you would wuss out.)

Midoriya was definitely in over his head for this.

He was basically panicking because he wasn’t sure if you even liked him the way you said you did or if you were just pranking him. It was common for that to be a thing in UA, with so many people and their superior-complexes they were bound to use it to entertain themselves. But he pushed those thoughts away because he never wanted to think of you like that again. You were too cool and too nice to be that way. At least, that’s what he hoped.

As he arrived at your house he quickly sent you a text but you opened the door a few seconds after he had sent it. And oh...OH. You looked...amazing. Midoriya is definitely blushing by now, and this is exactly what he was hoping. He finally got you, the most attractive person he’d ever seen to look his way, and thank god he had because the way you were looking had him hoping nobody could outdo him.

You were wearing a suit. But it wasn’t like Midoriya’s suit, not a simple tuxedo, but it was with this sort of, silk top and the pants were long and fit. But instead of a blazer or something you had on this long sort of coat but you looked straight out of a magazine. Especially with the heels.

There was something electric happening in this car. Whether it was Midoriya and how much he was looking at you every two seconds, or the way everytime he did you were already looking at him. You made him feel a bit incompetent with the way confidence was radiating off you.

“You look good Izu. I like the tuxedo. Sorry if what I’m wearing wasn’t what you we’re hoping for.” You had said this calmly but you weren’t looking at him, as if you were scared of his response.

“Oh!! Thank you, I actually enjoy your outfit a lot more, you look really good! So good I don’t even know why you look so good jeez...sorry!! Rambling” he said before he got to into it. He had finally pulled up to the school.

“It’s fine. Your rambling is very cute~” you said, giving him a grin. He blushed a tiny bit and took the initiative of grabbing your hand and you had strolled inside.

As you had walked up to your friend group you were surrounded by your fellow friends as they complimented you almost excessively.

“Okay okay thank you guys. Please let me get back to my date huh?” You said smoothly and the cheering began all over again, so you quickly grabbed Midoriya and left to the drink bar.

“You do look really good today though, the compliments were, very well deserved.” Izuku said as he got you both punch.

“Well I could say the same about you. Along with a bit more.” You teased as he laughed.

The night was ecstatic. You and Midoriya had danced the whole time, and there was almost no time when the two of you weren’t together, and that was only because you had promised Mina a dance as a joke and she took it very seriously. The only other time was you yelling at Bakugou for saying Izuku’s suit was ugly. You didn’t even say anything bad you just said,

“IF HIS IS UGLY THEN YOURS IS ACTUALLY HIDEOUS, SO WHAT NOW.” And apparently yelling isnt exactly accepted so you and Bakugou both had to get a tiny scolding from Aizawa but he was so bored of how stupid the conversation was and let you both go with a warning instead. So you two stayed away from each other but glares were definitely shared.

As quickly as the night began it was over. And you were back in Midoriya’s car. Except this time you were kissing. A lot.

“You looked so good today~ it was hard to not kiss you on the spot.” You mumbled on his lips.

“Same here, everybody was looking at you and I felt...kind of jealous actually.” He whispered blushing.

“Well if it’s any comfort I could only look at you. You do know that I like you right?”

“Yeah yeah I know!” Why did he sound so excited?!

“So do you like me then? I never exactly got an answer.” You said leaning back into your seat. He however, basically jumped in the car and hit his head.

“Ow! Yes yes I really do like you, I thought you could tell and that’s why you asked me?” He said and you giggled.

“Well I mean I could tell but I asked you because I liked you first. That should’ve been more obvious.” You had said with another laugh as he also laughed.

“Yeah yeah that makes a lot more since huh? Well then...are we dating then? Or do there need to be y’know dates because I understand that we should probably get to know each other more but- another kiss planted right on his lips.

“I’d like that a lot Midoriya. You really don’t have to question yourself this much, I do genuinely like you.”

“I-I know! I genuinely like you too, a lot.”

“Well then stop worrying and just kiss me again.”

Who would’ve known this is how his night would go? Well...he was not complaining. Now he had to all to himself. What a win!

El FIN

to be honest i have no clue what this is pls, but where it says heels in Midoriya’s section that can be any shoe i just find heels powerful beings.

Alright hope y’all enjoy this mess lol

-SS

[ohmyjinsus]

i wish you would

choi yeonjun x gender neutral! reader

exes to ??? || 2.3k

I’ve started this new thing where I put all of taylor swift’s songs on shuffle and write a fic based off the first one that comes on (let's see how long this lasts lmao) - this is the first one uwu

summary: after impulsively breaking up with yeonjun, you realize that was the stupidest decision you’ve ever made and spend the rest of your week wishing you could have him back (idk just go listen to the song)

“I can’t do this anymore.” Your voice is so quiet, you aren’t even sure Yeonjun can hear it through the phone.

“Is this because of last night?” He asks. “I’m sorry y/n, I know you’re busy with school. I didn’t think you’d want to come.”

“No.” You don’t mind that he went to a party without you. He’s right, you would have said no anyway. “I heard you were getting a little too friendly with some people.”

“Are you jealous?” He sounds shocked. “We’ve been together for 2 years, you know I would never cheat on you.”

“I know,” you reassure him. “I’m just worried.”

“Worried about what?” His voice is softer now.

You wish you were having this conversation in person so you could see his facial expressions, but you’re so upset. You had to talk to him as soon as your friend called you. You’d already been insecure about your relationship these past few weeks. When you heard that your boyfriend was flirting with her, your anxiety got even worse.

“I know you love me,” you say slowly, sitting down on your bed. “But we haven’t seen each other in a week, Yeonjun. Maybe you don’t miss me as much as I miss you.”

“I can’t believe you would even think that. I don’t want anyone but you.”

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. “I just miss you.”

“I know baby,” he sounds just as upset as you. “I’m sorry too.”

“What do we do?” You grab the plushie on your bed. He won it for you at some carnival you went to ages ago. You’ve been sleeping with it ever since.

“What do you want to do?” Yeonjun asks. “In my head, I know you’re right. I can’t see you as often as I used to, but I don’t want to leave you.”

The thought of more nights like these makes you want to cry. Just a few months ago, you were spending all your time at his house. Staying up until 2am talking about everything was your normal. Then all of a sudden work and school and countless other things popped up and now everything’s fallen apart. Yeonjun’s been a constant in your life for the past two years, even longer, but the two of you can’t keep up with it anymore.

Not being a part of his day breaks your heart. Hearing about what he’s up to from other people hurts even more. You don’t know if you can handle that. You’ve already drifted apart. Staying together might just make things worse.

“I think we should break up.”

“y/n no,” he whispers. “Please don’t.”

“I can’t-”

“Can I see you? Right now?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Yeonjun only lives a few streets over. It would take him less than 5 minutes to get to your house.

“Why not?” He asks.

“I’ll cry.” Your voice gets even smaller. You hug your plushie tighter, trying to ignore the fact that it smells like him.

“y/n, I just want to give you a hug.”

“No,” you tell him, surprised at how firm you sound. “No,” you say again, softer. “I can’t handle that right now, I might change my mind.”

“I want you to change your mind.”

“Yeonjun, come on,” you sigh. This would be so much easier if he agreed with you. “I don’t want to drag this on any longer than necessary.” He stays quiet for a few seconds.

“Okay,” he says, finally. “If you want to split up, that’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” You ask. Part of you hopes he’ll fight with you and tell you he’s not leaving. Another part of you is relieved.

“No,” he admits. “Are you?”

“No.” That’s when the tears start to fall. You have no idea if you’re doing the right thing. The two of you have had conversations like this before, but none of them have been this serious. You’ve always been able to quickly resolve your issues, but you don’t think that’s possible this time. “But it’s for the best.”

“Sure, y/n.”

“Thanks.” You don’t know what to say. Yeonjun’s your first boyfriend, and this is your first breakup. You hope he can’t hear you crying through the phone.

“I’ll come pick up my things later,” he sounds like he might cry too. “I’ll text you.”

You nod, then realize he can’t see you.

“Okay.”

“I guess there’s nothing else to say then.”

“No, not from me.”

“Me too.”

“Bye Yeonjun.” You don’t even try to hide your sniffles at this point.

“Bye y/n,” he replies. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You hang up before he can say anything else.

===

You’re sitting on the floor with Yeonjun’s sweater wrapped around you. It’s been a week since you spoke to him. He hasn’t picked his things up yet, which you’re grateful for. That’s when the breakup will be real. You wish it wasn’t. If you could go back in time, you never would have hung up the phone that night.

You’ve been up at 2am countless times, thinking about Yeonjun, being with Yeonjun, but here you are, missing him instead. Every time you see headlights through your window, you pray it’s him. When your phone lights up, you hope you’ll pick up and hear his voice.

You would call him yourself, but you have a strong feeling he hates you. Ending your relationship was a stupid decision. You shouldn’t have done it in the heat of the moment. The two of you have been through so much together, surely you could make it through this rough patch. That’s what you tell yourself.

You can’t help but wonder if he’s thinking the same thing.

===

Yeonjun hasn’t been himself since you broke up. After that phone call, he locks himself in his room for days, refusing to speak to anyone. He ignores all his friends’ messages, unable to bring himself to talk to anyone. The only person he wants to speak to is you.

There are so many things he wishes he had done differently. He should’ve been more affectionate. He should’ve told you he loved you more often. He should’ve tried harder and been better. And he definitely shouldn’t have flirted with everyone. He knows it upset you but it’s just in his nature. He didn’t mean to push your buttons like that. No wonder it’s what broke you.

He contemplates showing up at your door every day, every hour even. But he’s scared you won’t answer, or that you’ll slam the door in his face. Maybe you’d yell and cuss him out for bothering you. He doesn’t know if it’s smarter to try and win you back or to just move on and forget you.

Yeonjun can’t sleep tonight, too consumed with all the memories of you. Earlier, he found a birthday card you wrote him early on in your relationship. You signed it with “love, y/n.” Although he’d never admit it, it made him cry then. It makes him cry even more now.

All he knows is that he needs fresh air. He runs downstairs, grabs his car keys and leaves. He doesn’t know where he’s going, he just needs to get out.

Now it’s 2am and he’s driving past your house.

He’s spent countless days there, in your room, falling in love with you over and over again. Since you split up, he’s been driving by your house every day. He doesn’t have the courage to walk up to your door. He can’t even find it in himself to call you.

He puts his foot down, speeding up to get past your house quicker. He’s going 70 in a 40 but he doesn’t care. This is the last time he’ll do this, he tells himself.

But as Yeonjun pulls onto his own driveway, he hesitates. Maybe it was the card, he’s not sure. He can’t get your smile out of his head.

Something makes him put the car into reverse.

===

You know it’s late, but you need fresh air. Whenever you felt this way before, Yeonjun would take you for a walk around the block. He said it would help clear your head. He was right.

All the reminders of him are still in your room. You don’t have the energy to put everything away. It scares you to imagine life without him. But sitting alone with those memories feels just as terrible.

Stuffing your phone in your pocket, you sneak down the stairs and outside, hoping no one will hear you.

It’s weird being out here without him. You miss holding his hand and making him laugh. If you’re being honest, you miss everything about him. He’s everywhere you look, constantly in your mind.

While you think, a car comes speeding by, making you jump. Your immediate thought is to call Yeonjun. Whenever you were out by yourself, he would always come pick you up right away. You wish he would do that now. You felt so safe with him. Now, you just feel alone.

Checking your phone, you see it’s 2:15. You pull your sweater tighter around you. Yeonjun will probably come get it soon. It’s one of his favourites.

As you turn around and start walking back to your house, your phone rings. You glance at it, expecting it to be a random number.

When you see Yeonjun’s name, you almost drop your phone. Once you answer, you don’t even know what to say.

“y/n.” You almost start crying. It’s only been a week, but it feels like a lifetime since you’ve heard his voice. “Why are you out so late?”

“What do you mean?” You stop walking, wondering how he knows you’re out.

“I can see you by the stop sign.” Your head whips around, scanning the area, looking for him. “I’m on your left.”

You spot him, a few metres away, standing right by his car. When he notices you looking, he starts walking in your direction. You can’t move. Part of you thinks this might just be a dream.

Once he’s in front of you, it takes all your strength not to throw yourself into his arms. You end the call, putting your phone back in your pocket.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he says.

“Hm?” You can’t form a coherent though, you’re just so shocked to see him again.

“Why are you out right now?”

“Why are you out?” He laughs at how you avoid the question.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You have to kiss him. Right now. The second your lips are on his, his arms wrap around you, pulling you closer. You missed this. You missed him.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you either,” you whisper when you pull away. Yeonjun’s still holding you tight.

“It’s been a terrible week,” you admit.

“I know, right?” He kisses you again. “I’m sorry, y/n.”

“Why are you sorry? I should be apologizing.” He shakes his head.

“I’m such a terrible boyfriend, I should have-”

“You came back.” You cut him off right away. “I pushed you away, but you came back.”

“I did.”

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

“I missed you too much.” You nod, agreeing with him.

Another car speeds past as the two of you stand there, in each other’s arms. That’s when you remember how late it is.

“What do we do now?”

“Let me take you home.” He unwraps himself from you, taking your hand instead. Once your fingers are interlaced, you give him a squeeze. He smiles.

“y/n, promise me something,” Yeonjun says as you walk over to his car.

“Sure.”

“Never leave me again.” You roll your eyes as he opens the passenger side door for you, but you still give him a kiss.

“Don’t worry,” you tell him. “I won’t.”

He holds your hand the entire way back to your house. Normally you would scold him, telling him how unsafe that is, even if it is a short trip. You don’t mind it today.

When he drops you off on your porch, you beg him to come inside. He laughs and tells you no.

“I’ll see you tomorrow y/n.”

“For sure?” He holds out his pinky so you do the same. Once he pinky swears, you smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that-”

“Don’t make me break up with you again.” His eyes go wide. “What?”

“So we’re back together then?”

“Um,” you hesitate. “Yes?”

“Good.” He kisses your cheek. “That’s what I wanted.” You smile up at him, glad to have him back. You really meant it when you said you wouldn’t leave him again.

“Me too.”

[quokkacore]

with great power I [lee jeno]

summary: there are two things jeno loves most about his life. one being spiderman, the other being you, his best friend. there’s just one issue: after your father’s death, you decide you hate both spiderman and yourself.

pairing: lee jeno x reader

genre: superhero au, high school au, coming of age, best friends to strangers(ish) to lovers, fluff, ANGST, minor crack

warnings (for this chapter): language, violence, gun violence, the mafia, parental death, police presence, sexual references, bullying (ily san im sorry), the dreamies being dicks to each other, police corruption, towards the end jeno experiences something similar to sensory overload, americanized names, pop culture references, VERY jeno centric

song rec: we go up - nct dream // any song - zico // 21 questions - waterparks // talk (remix feat. megan thee stallion & yo gotti) - khalid // sunrise - ateez // i really like you - carly rae jepsen // dare - gorillaz // stray kids - the tortoise and the hare

word count: 10.5k

a/n: this is so late...... i blame attack on titan. but hey!! better late than never :] a huge thanks to @doderyscoffee​ for beta reading <3

main masterlist // story masterlist

chapter one: jeno and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week

Jeno despised Tuesdays. He was pretty sure that Tuesdays despised Jeno as well because all of his worst days just so happen to be Tuesdays. He was 96% sure that, if there was a god, his day off was on Tuesdays, or that the planets aligned in such a manner on Tuesdays that it caused universal despair and misery. If he was to take Donghyuck's word for it, his chakra attracted negative energy the most on Tuesdays.

When Jeno was 5, his goldfish Pippin had died on a Tuesday. When he had his ass handed to him on the playground by San Choi in the third grade, it was a Tuesday. And in the seventh grade, he'd failed his Spanish test, missed his bus and walked home in the rain only to find out that his Aunt Sunny was at work, he'd left his keys in his locker and that had to wait an hour before she got home to unlock it for him, all on a Tuesday. 

And wouldn't you know it, here he was, late for the first day of senior year, which was, of all days, a godforsaken Tuesday.

In his eternal wisdom, he'd stayed up gaming with Renjun until two in the morning, and because of it, slept through his three alarms, one set at six-thirty, the other at 6:45, the last one at 7:00. 

He'd woken up at 7:17, to the sound of his elderly neighbor's pet chihuahua barking at a pigeon, checked the time, immediately panicked, sped into the shower, gotten dressed in a haste, grabbed a few granola bars from the pantry, and ran out the door while trying to jam his backpack closed, and managed to catch the train at 7:40, which took about twenty minutes to get to his stop, plus a ten-minute walk to school, and class started at 8:10. Not to mention he’d have to stop by the office and pick up his schedule. At best, he’d be five minutes late to his first class. But tardies were tardies, regardless, and the last thing he needed was to lose his perfect attendance streak. 

He fished out his phone while standing on the train, waiting for his stop, scrolling through Instagram, and liking random pictures. A ping! from his phone caught his attention, then two, then a third. He smiled softly when your name popped up on his screen.

[7:48 AM]

y/n: pssst

y/n: shithead

y/n: where r u ????

[7:49 AM] 

y/n: i can sEE u online on ig u know

jeno: …… i'm on the train

jeno: woke up late

y/n: YOURE GONNA BE LATR

y/n: LATE*

y/n: ON THE FIRST DAY OF SENIOR YEAR

[7:50]

jeno: probably, yeah

jeno: it's the school district's fault, why would they make the first day of school on a fkn TUESDAY 

y/n: ohhh yeahh its terrible tuesday

y/n: [sent an attachment!]

[7:51 AM]

jeno: SHUT UP

jeno: you're not funny >:(

jeno: how dare you laugh at my misfortune

y/n: au contraire im hilarious

jeno: meanie :(

jeno: im gonna be late i hate it here

jeno: it'll end up on my permanent record and i'm not gonna get into college and then i'm gonna die,,,

[7:52 AM] 

y/n: sometimes ur worse than hyuck i swear 

y/n: FIRST OF ALL permanent records dont even exist !!!!!! its propaganda duh

y/n: also ur literally never late 

y/n: im sure o n e tardy wont do anything chill

y/n: dont be stupid youll be fine

Don’t be stupid. Too little, too late, he thought, already having got off the train at a previous stop. Now, he was looking for an unoccupied street or alleyway, which, for once, was easy, taking a deep breath before he did the exact opposite of what you’d told him not to do. Don’t be stupid. 

The buildings are low, he thought to himself, it’ll be easier to see me. 

Don’t be stupid.

Too late!

Thwip!

Jeno didn’t hesitate to use the web fluid to pull himself up onto the wall, climbing in a haste, before running and jumping onto the next building. He quickly built up a quick pace, using the web fluid occasionally to swing onto a building slightly out of jumping range. 

Signs in English, Chinese, Korean, and Spanish flew past him as he seemingly flew over the Queens traffic, leaving Flushing behind and crossing quickly into College Point quicker than he would if he took the train. He glanced to his left and caught a view of the bay, and far across it, the LaGuardia airport watchtower.

Jeno had lived in New York City his entire life. He knew Queens like the back of his hand, knew every dingy alleyway, every sketchy street, which restaurants to avoid if you didn’t want to get food poisoning, which convenience store aunties were the nicest and didn’t pinch his cheeks too hard. It was his home, and most likely would be for the rest of his life. 

But seeing it like this, flying past him below as he glided with ease from building to building would never cease to be a sight to him. It was like watching from the perspective of an outsider, seeing people in their cars, walking along the street gave him a brand new perspective. A Jeno’s eye view, he called it, since he was pretty sure he was the only one in New York City.

Another noise from his phone brought him back to reality. He shook his head, stopping briefly to catch his breath and fish out his phone briefly. 

[7:57 AM] 

y/n: let me know when u get here !!!

No time to respond, he put away the phone and continued his trek to school. He had less than ten minutes to get there. But he knew he was already at least five minutes away, much quicker than he would be if he had decided to stick to the train. He smiled a bit to himself, feeling ever so slightly smug.

The hustle and bustle of the city definitely proved challenging to find a place to land without many eyes, but he figured it out eventually, landing behind a dumpster in an alleyway behind a restaurant that he knew was about three or four blocks from the school. He figured it would be a lot better to take it on foot from here. The notebooks he was carrying in his backpack bounced up and down with every step he took. 

After what seemed like forever, the gates to the school appeared in his view, and Jeno felt a joy in his heaving chest, something he would have never thought would happen upon seeing the absolute hellhole that was Samuel Morse High School. 

[8:06 AM]

jeno: just did >:D

Picking up his schedule was both quick and insanely long. He couldn’t stop himself from tapping his left foot while the secretary found his schedule and handed it to him. “Kibum, please hurry,” He muttered, and Kibum raised an eyebrow at him, but his gaze was teasing. “That’s Mr. Kim to you, in school at least.” 

He handed Jeno his schedule a few seconds later. “Tell your Aunt to come pick up her casserole dish, by the way. She left it at my house after my last viewing party.”

“The Bachelor?”

“Please. We’re too classy for that. Drag Race.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Jeno,” Kibum said, staring up at him from his desk, his gaze now much more serious, “Get to class. Happy first day of senior year.”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim.”

He managed to make it to chemistry class at 8:09 with seconds to spare. His eyes quickly scanned the room upon entering, hoping his friends were in the class with him. He caught a few familiar faces, most of which, like San Choi's, he wished to avoid. No one paid him any mind. Everyone was still speaking to the people next to them, no doubt exchanging stories of summer vacation. 

  A hand shot up towards the back, waving at him. A smile stretched across his face as he registered your face, feet not hesitating to carry him towards the empty seat next to you. His heart skipped a beat at seeing your smile, and he tried his best to ignore it.

“Hey,” You greeted, “That was fast. I thought you said you were gonna be late.”

Jeno shrugged, eyes landing on the dark shade of the lab table. “The train was a lot faster than I expected, apparently.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Why do you smell so bad?”

“I, uh… ran a little.” 

You grimaced, and Jeno tried to casually sniff at his slightly sweaty clothes. It’s not that bad. “I still don’t understand why you won’t let me drive you to school. You’re literally next door.”

“I don’t know,” He answered, rolling his eyes, “Maybe it’s because when it comes to that truck, you are absolutely insane. You won’t even let me drink water in that thing.”

The truck in question, a faded red 1998 Chevrolet S-10, had been your gift to yourself for your 17th birthday. You’d spent two summers saving up to buy yourself a truck, and that was what you were able to get for what you had. To say it was a huge piece of junk on wheels was an understatement. 

The thing smelled like mothballs no matter how many air fresheners you bought it, the engine sounded like an old man having a coughing fit, and there was a very suspicious stain in the backseat that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times you scrubbed it. But for some reason, you treated it like it was your own baby. The amount of times you’d yelled at Jaemin for trying to put his feet on the dashboard was too high to count.

You mirrored his movement, eyes rolling as you sighed. “At least let me drive you home after school today. Maybe you can stay and we can finally watch Blade Runner.”

You’d been trying to get him to watch the film for almost a month now, begging and pleading because you insisted that he’d love it. He offered an awkward stare, before opening his backpack and pulling out a notebook. “Can’t,” He mumbled, “I’m headed into Manhattan. I have my internship afterwards.”

“Oh, yeah,” You said nonchalantly, eyebrows shooting up as you remembered, “Park Industries.” 

He was about to reply when Mrs. Baker, the chemistry teacher, finally entered. She’d been working at SMHS for 30 years and had never, apparently, been nice, if his Aunt Sunny’s stories were anything to go by. However, she had apparently always spoken as if she smoked two packs a day. She was rambling about the importance of making the most of senior year academically, adult responsibilities, college, and whatnot. You and Jeno exchanged glances often throughout the monologue, hoping it would end soon. 

“Enough of that,” She said after what seemed like an eternity, “Everyone quiet down, I’m going to call roll.”

Names were quickly called, and Jeno was ready to pull out a pencil and start working with you until Mrs Baker demanded a switch in seats, beginning to call on random names in an effort to deter everyone from speaking. 

"Please not with Choi, please not with Choi," Jeno muttered under his breath, glancing warily at San, who was staring ahead, looking bored. 

San had had it out for Jeno ever since day one, in first grade. For some reason, everything Jeno did seemed to annoy the other boy. He wasn't funny enough, or too nerdy, or too quiet. Jeno was always too much or too little for him. 

You touched his forearm, and he looked towards you. 

“You’ll be fine,” You said softly, trying not to alert the teacher, “You’re not gonna get paired up with him, and you can take it to the office if you need to.” “Yeah, because I’m sure Coach Peralta would be thrilled if someone tried to get his precious midfielder in trouble.”

“Choi, San,” Mrs Baker’s voice rang throughout the room, and Jeno braced himself for the worst, eyebrows furrowing with worry. 

“You’ll be sitting with… L/N, Y/N.” 

Jeno’s shoulders slumped, but your face remained impassive. You picked up your stuff, and pouted silently at Jeno in apology, before making your way to the front. 

“Lee, Jeno,” Mrs Baker called a few minutes later, “You’ll be sitting with Jang, Yeeun.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief. Yeeun is nice, Jeno thought to himself, I could sit with Yeeun. She wasn’t part of his main friend group, but he had tutored her in math during sophomore year in exchange for her helping him with Spanish, and they’d been pretty friendly ever since. 

“Hey,” Yeeun greeted as Jeno sat down, and Jeno smiled at her. 

“Remember, these will be your assigned lab partners for the rest of the semester. No changes, no exceptions.” Mrs. Baker sat down at her desk, before beginning to talk about something Jeno didn’t really pay attention to.

You exchanged glances with Jeno, and he gave you a look of sympathy as you gestured at San with your eyes. San was talking to you about something—probably bragging about some soccer achievement—but you weren’t paying him much attention. Jeno swallowed something growing in his throat as he looked at how your hair looked today. 

It was nothing relatively new, the same hairstyle you used on most days. But still, there was a bit of a shine to it. He wondered vaguely if you had changed your shampoo, the other day you’d been complaining about how itchy your normal shampoo made your scalp—

“You still haven’t told her about how you feel?” Yeeun asked quietly, and Jeno’s head snapped back to look at her, eyes wide.

“W-what? Me. Like Y/N…” He laughed nervously, trying to keep his voice down. He scratched the back of his head, avoiding Yeeun’s accusatory stare. “You’re hilarious, Yeeun. Tell another one.”

Yeeun shook her head. “You’d better hurry before someone else snatches her up, Jen. She’s not gonna wait around for you forever.”

 “I don’t like her, Yeeun.” 

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Hey! Jeno Lee!”

“Hey! Jaemin Na! What do you want!” Jeno answered as he sat down, mimicking Jaemin’s tone next to him.

“Well, for starters, a million dollars, and second, a date with Yiren Wang, but I doubt you can help me with either of those, so...”

Jeno glanced at the rest of the table. Along with Jaemin, Mark,  Renjun, Donghyuck, and you were watching the interaction between the pair. “Where are the munchkins?” Jeno asked, noticing Chenle and Jisung’s absence. No one could really call them munchkins anymore. That nickname dated back to middle school, before the two underclassmen had gone through growth spurts.

“Eh, they should be here soon,” Renjun said, chewing on a french fry, “How’s your day been?”

“Pretty good so far, I guess. I got AP Calc with Mr. Washington later, though. That man wants me dead.”

You rolled your eyes. “He doesn’t want you dead. I’m telling you, you and Hyuck have been spending way too much time together. You’re being more dramatic than usual and Hyuck’s being more… weird than usual.”

“And just what is so weird about being enthusiastic about senior year, Y/N?” Donghyuck asked, shaking his head, “It’s our last year in this hellhole, I’m excited that we’re finally getting out of here. And besides—”

“Please don’t bring up the fact that you’re abandoning us next year.” Chenle seemingly appeared out of nowhere, sitting next to Renjun, Jisung following quickly behind him.

“Hi, Sungie,” You said with a smile, and Jisung smiled back. “Hi, Y/N.”

“What were you saying, Hyuck?” Jaemin looked at Donghyuck, who had taken the quick interaction as an opportunity to take a bite of his sandwich. His wide eyes darted to the slim boy, cheeks stuffed with chicken. 

“Oh,” He replied after swallowing, “This is gonna be my year. I’m getting male lead for the winter musical and no one is gonna stop me.”

“Do you even know what musical you guys are doing yet?” Mark asked, “What if it’s like… Shrek?”

Jisung made a face. “There’s a Shrek musical?”

Mark nodded, and Renjun laughed.

“I don’t know about male lead, if it’s Shrek. You should try out for Donkey,” The Chinese boy joked, “With those front teeth, you’re a shoo-in.”

The entire table was silent for a moment, before snorts and chortles started pouring out from everyone except Donghyuck.

“Fuck you, Huang.” 

Renjun flashed the friendliest smile he could muster. “Not if you paid me a million dollars.”

The subject remained on extracurriculars, everyone in your group except for Chenle and Jisung now wary of college applications. Donghyuck had been in theater ever since middle school, Renjun was in the robotics club and the debate team with Jaemin, who was also in the student council. Mark was on the math team with Jeno, and you had founded the film club. 

"You're not gonna believe who asked to sign up for film," You huffed, looking kind of confused. The rest of the table looked at you expectantly, and you pursed your lips, almost as if you were trying not to laugh.

"San Choi."

Renjun scoffed. Jaemin raised his eyebrows before letting out a single, humorless laugh. Jeno made a face, poking his plastic fork at you. 

"What is San Choi doing asking to sign up for film?"

"Fuck if I know. He said he needed one more extracurricular if he wanted to get into some college in Florida and he liked going to the movies, so he wanted to try out film."

Mark rolled his eyes. "I swear there's nothing in that guy's head but hot gas. It blows my mind."

"He's a dick," Chenle grumbled, "I'm still not over how he and Wooyoung taped Jisung to the flagpole last year."

Jisung scowled. "I thought we agreed to never bring that up again."

“Do you think they’ll finally calm the fuck down this year?” Jaemin wondered, looking wistful.

You took a sip of your coke and shook your head. “Doubt it. They’re not the hateful eight for a reason.”

The mood at the table turned tense, until Jaemin frowned at his french fries, before sighing and clapping his hands together dramatically. “I would like to hear,” He mused, “About the nuance that theatre gives the cinematic masterpiece that is Shrek when converted into musical form.”

Donghyuck beamed. “Oh, it’s amazing. You see…”

If it was difficult to get Donghyuck to stop talking in general, it was impossible when it was about theater.

The conversation continued on until the bell rang, and the eight of you had to go your separate ways. Jaemin and Jeno had the same class, so they both walked together down a relatively calm hallway. Jaemin looked both ways, before finally lowering his voice. 

“So, you’re going to see Mr. Park today?”

Jeno nodded, looking down at his shoes. “He said he wanted to give me an assignment. Says there’s something big going on.”

Jaemin’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Did he say what kind of something?” 

Jeno shook his head, pouting slightly. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.” 

Once school was out, Jeno was getting ready to get onto the subway once again, this time heading towards Midtown. It was only day one and, as Jeno had predicted, Mr. Washington probably was out to get him, because he’d swamped the class with homework.

As he left the school, he spotted you in the parking lot, leaning against your car door, texting someone. He glanced at his phone. He still had plenty of time, he figured. He walked over to you, and when you looked up, you smiled. 

“Hey!” Your voice had that signature tone of enthusiasm to it, and Jeno smiled back immediately. 

“Hello,” He sing-songed. “So, I was thinking… are you free on Friday night?”

You looked somewhere above his head, furrowing your eyebrows before you perked up again and nodded. “Yep! Why?”

“I’m free after nine. Maybe then I could come over to your house? So I can finally get you to stop harassing me about Blade Runner.”

You grinned, pumping your fists enthusiastically. “Hell yes,” You answered, “Do you want me to get like, some frozen pizzas or something?” 

“Pizza sounds good,” He said. “Who are you even waiting for?” 

You made a face that made it seem as if you’d just gotten a whiff of rotten milk. “Well—”

Your response was interrupted when the school doors slammed open, and eight figures poured out, carrying themselves with confidence Jeno both envied and despised. He frowned, trying not to react at their loud whooping and laughing. The Hateful Eight.

“Oh.” Jeno averted his gaze, meeting your eyes again.

“Yeah. If you don’t hear from me later it’s because I jumped out of my truck because I don’t wanna work with—”

“Well, hello, gorgeous!” San’s voice filled the parking lot, and Jeno took a deep breath. Your mouth stretched into a tight-lipped smile at the unwanted ‘compliment’. 

“Hey, San.” Your friendly passive aggressive tone almost made Jeno smile. “I’ve been waiting here for like, fifteen minutes. You could have just given me your number and asked me to send you pictures of my notes, you know.”

He shrugged, turning his body so that his back was turned to Jeno. “Sorry, babe. Coach wanted to talk to us about the upcoming season. When he gets going, it’s hard to get him to stop. And besides, where’s the fun in just asking for pictures when I could come here, talk to you, and take the pictures myself?”

You didn’t respond, but rather pulled out your backpack and began digging through it. When you pulled out your notebook, you handed it to San, who flashed a wink at you. You barely held back a gag. 

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll just be a minute.” 

He walked over to the hood of your truck, and just as you were about to continue your conversation, two figures slung their arms around both of Jeno’s shoulders, causing him to flinch. 

Out of the fifteen soccer players on the team, San and his best friends—seven of them, to be precise—were the worst. The others were pretty nice. But right now, seeing two of those seven surround your best friend made you uneasy. 

Wooyoung was loud. He was also a temperamental brat. His dad owned three used car dealerships over in Brooklyn, so naturally, he thought he owned the entire world. He wasn’t someone who would get too physical in fights, like San, or Jongho, or Yeosang. But when he was angry, he could easily get you to jump into the stratosphere by yelling at you once. Over the years, he’d made several teaching assistants and substitute teachers cry, only getting let off with a slap on the wrist every time. 

 Yunho was terrifying for completely different reasons. He was friendly, but a little too friendly to the people he wanted to control. He could read people like books and could easily manipulate whoever he wanted. But he wasn’t afraid of getting physical either, especially not when he was built like a goddamn Power Rangers Megazord. 

All in all, they definitely weren't anyone you wanted near you, near your friends. Especially considering how much they had it out for your friends. 

"Hey, buddy," Yunho said, looking down at Jeno with a wide smile. "How was summer vacation?"

Jeno gnawed on the side of his cheek as he considered his answer. "Um, it was okay." He looked at you to catch your eyes darting between San, Yunho and Wooyoung, like you were analyzing the situation. "I kinda stayed in and played video games most of the t—"

"Cool, cool," Yunho answered, carding his free hand through his bleach blond hair. "What about you, Woo?"

"Oh, dude, it was so cool," He bragged, "I went to Brazil for like, a month. I went clubbing with Instagram models and shit, it was wild."

You stared at him as he patted Jeno on the back rather aggressively. "Where did you go? Have you ever even left New York?" 

You knew the answer. Only a few times when the debate team went to compete in different states. Jeno spoke up again. "Well, yeah a few t—"

"Doubt it," Yunho scoffed. He craned his head back. "San, you done yet?"

"Almost!" San answered. Yunho turned to face you, and for some reason his smile seemed genuinely kind. “What about you, Y/N?”

You never understood why it was that the soccer team hated your entire friend group, but seemed to tolerate you. It made no sense.

So you shrugged. “Not a lot, I guess. Did my summer reading. Hung out with my friends.” You flashed a reassuring smile at Jeno. “Right, Jen?”

Immediately, he relaxed a little bit. “Yeah.”

San appeared from behind Yunho, Jeno and Wooyoung. “Thanks, Y/N. I owe you one.”

You waved your hand, wanting them to get rid of them quickly. “Don’t mention it. But next time, just text me for my notes. I have to get to work, so…”

“Oh! My bad,” He answered with fake remorse, before unlocking his phone and handing it over to you. “Here. For next time.”

You stifled a deep sigh, punching in the numbers hesitantly. “Just for homework, got it?”

San took his phone back, holding a hand over his heart and raised his head. “On a gentleman's honor,” He declared, and you bit back a laugh. Jeno looked like he was going to hurl.

“San!” The team captain—Hongjoong—called from a few feet away, “Are you guys done yet or what?”

“Coming!” San yelled back.

“Alright, we’ll let you go,” Wooyoung said, patting Jeno on the back again, a bit too harsh for comfort. “Bye, Y/N! See you around.”

 The three of them stalked off, leaving you and a very frazzled Jeno. “Dicks,” You muttered once they were out of earshot. “You good?”

Jeno shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine.”

You tilted your head, frowning. “Jeno—”

“I gotta go,” He said quickly. “I’ll see you later?”

You nodded, offering a lopsided smile. “Yeah. Be careful!” 

Jeno offered a deep bow, fluttering his eyelashes. “On a gentleman’s honor,” He sighed, adding a very bad British accent to it. You burst out laughing, eyes squeezing shut.

You didn’t catch the way Jeno’s shoulders relaxed at the sound.

I want you to know now

Baby, it could go down

I don’t wanna talk about it

Baby, let’s just go now

The train ride into Midtown didn’t take too long. He spent it digging through his backpack for his Park Industries lanyard, listening to music and thinking about you.

When you talk right to me 

You gon’ have to do me

Every time you think you’re leaving 

You running back to me

You’d met Jeno when you were six. Truth be told, he didn’t really remember. For him it was like you weren’t there at one point and by the time you were, you were thicker than thieves. It was a difficult time for him. He had just lost both of his parents, and was moving in with his Aunt Sunny and his Uncle Jinki, who were barely out of college at the time. He’d had to move to a new school and basically restart his entire life. You were the first sense of stability in his life for months. 

Your mom lived next to his aunt and uncle. So naturally, you went to the same school and went on the same bus. And somewhere along the way, you two clicked. You’d introduced him to Renjun, Jaemin and Donghyuck. You were there to comfort him whenever he got pushed off the slide by San or Wooyoung. 

He was there for you when your stepdad and stepbrother moved in when you were nine and you weren’t sure how to deal with it. He was there when your mom died when you were thirteen. He’d introduced you and your friends to Mark, Chenle and Jisung. 

And you were there when his Uncle Jinki got killed when he was fifteen. And because fate had an especially cruel sense of irony, it had happened on a Tuesday. You didn’t know, but at the time, he had just gotten his powers. Your comfort and words unknowingly had a secondary effect: he made the decision to use them for good, and… well. The rest was history. 

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Talk about where we're goin'

Before we get lost, lend me your thoughts

Can't get what we want without knowin'

Just like when he met you, he didn’t recall an exact moment where he realized he’d fallen in love with you. He knew there was a world where he loved you, but wasn’t in love with you. And he knew that there was a world here he’d fallen in love with you—he was living in that world now. He realized he was living in that world maybe when he was sixteen, and had been stuck in it ever since. 

You were it for him. He’d had crushes before. But never something like this, where he was so aware of your presence around him. It wasn’t the way he was hyper aware of someone like San, or like Yunho or Jongho. It wasn’t out of anxiety or fear, where a shift in mood activated his fight or flight. He was aware of you in a way that only people who truly know each other do, where he could pick up on subtle changes in your behavior, but not out of fear. Rather, out of a desire to take care of you and to not have you worry about anything. 

I've never felt like this before

I apologize if I'm movin' too far

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Figure out where we're goin'...

As the train rolled into the station that was a fifteen minute walk from Park Tower, Jeno put away his headphones and took a deep breath.

The “Jeno Tingle” as his Aunt Sunny called it—Jeno hated the term—had taken him a few years to gain control of. And while he could never truly turn it off, he could at least tune it out enough to be more at ease. The only time he did so was at school or when he was studying, just because he wanted to feel normal, and because being aware of everything going on around him really messed with his concentration. 

Jaemin didn’t understand. “If I was able to tell whenever Seonghwa was behind me because he wanted to scare me into doing his chemistry homework, I’d never turn that shit off,” He’d said once. But truthfully, Jeno didn’t really care. Because while yes, he was still slightly scared of the “hateful eight”, he knew damn well that if things got to be too much, he could kick their asses if he wanted to. 

It was his friends he worried about. He couldn’t be around them 24/7. You, not so much. He knew you knew how to fight. Even worse, he knew that San had the hots for you so you were off limits to the rest of them, be it bullying or flirting. But for everyone else… Well. He couldn’t hover over them like some guardian angel. 

Now that the “Jeno Tingle” was on, it allowed him to sense everyone within a certain range around him. He could zero in on certain sounds with ease, and his reflexes became heightened. Halfway on his walk up Park Avenue, he jumped away from a chihuahua on its leash a second before it started barking at him.

When he entered the first floor lobby of the Park Building, he scoured the crowd of employees and visitors until he landed on one familiar face. 

He'd met Doyoung about a year after his dad started dating your mom. Things between your parents were starting to get serious, and Doyoung was four years older than you were. When they moved into your house, Doyoung as your new stepbrother became the de facto chaperone and babysitter. If you wanted to go to the mall with Jeno, he had to take you. Every time you dragged Jeno to the movies, Doyoung had to go also. 

To an extent, it wasn't that bad. Doyoung was cool, and he was smart—he was the one who got Jeno interested in computers and chemistry. He graduated high school at 16, and finished his bachelor's degree at 19. He'd also interned at Park Industries, and secured a job there almost immediately after college. 

To an extent, he was the whole reason Mr. Park knew who he was, because of one incident. It was relatively soon after he started the whole vigilante thing. Jeno, still figuring out how to maneuver on the webs that shot out of his wrists, had accidentally crashed into your backyard late at night, when only Doyoung was awake. He was standing in the back door while he was waiting for his dog to finish peeing. 

Initially, the older boy had freaked out, thinking that it was a burglar or something. When he yelled out that his dad was a cop and was asleep in the house, Jeno panicked, and pulled off his mask, holding up his hands.

“Woah, woahwoahwoah! Doyoung! It’s me, it’s me!” 

Doyoung’s eyes had widened to the size of saucers, paying no mind to the dog as it sauntered up to Jeno, before turning onto its back in a request for belly rubs.

"You're the spider guy everyone's been talking about!?"

"Spider man," Jeno had answered, voice cracking as he dusted himself off. He cringed at the sound of his voice. "...and yes."

Of course, his cover was blown, and he'd begged Doyoung not to tell anyone, especially not you. And while Doyoung had promised not to tell you, it didn't stop him from telling his boss. 

That had been almost three years ago now. The rest was history, and after that Jeno didn’t have to run around in bright red sweatpants and dollar store swimming goggles. Now, he had a nanotech suit that allowed him to activate protocols of the suit through voice commands using something top-secret Mr. Park called D.R.E.A.M technology. Direct Response Engaged As Machine—yeah, Jeno didn’t get it either. 

Doyoung offered Jeno a smile as he escorted Jeno past security, showing them his employee clearance pass. "Hey. How have you been?"

Jeno shrugged, recounting his day in minor detail as he was led into an elevator labeled authorized personnel only. 

This elevator only went up to the 35th floor, seeing as everything past that was only cleared for a certain list of people approved by Mr. Park and his security team, and everything past the 90th floor were Mr. Park's private living quarters. 

Now, as Doyoung led him to another elevator to head up to the 85th floor, which was always where Jeno got to meet with Mr. Park—which wasn't often, maybe once or twice a year—he wondered where he would be if he hadn’t surprised Doyoung that night. He would probably still be using those ugly red sweatpants as part of his disguise.

"How's Y/N?" Doyoung asked. 

"Oh, she seems okay. That guy who hates me keeps coming onto her though. He's a huge douchebag."

Doyoung frowned. "He's not harassing her, is he? Because if he is—"

"He just won't stop flirting, even though she clearly isn't interested," Jeno said bitterly, "He isn't physical or anything. Trust me, it wouldn't end well for him if he was."

Doyoung wasn't quite sure how to respond to the younger boy's dark tone. He looked down, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“So… how’s the apartment?” Jeno asked. Doyoung perked up instantly.

“Oh, now that Taeyong’s moved in and did his interior design thing, it looks great. He’s really done a great job at it.”

“When am I gonna meet this guy? He sounds cool.”

“He’s really cool,” Doyoung hummed, cheeks heating up. “Things are getting really serious.”

Jeno smiled at how flustered Doyoung, who was normally so level headed and calm, became at the mention of his boyfriend.

“You guys sound like a really good couple,” He said. Doyoung chuckled, waving his hand. “Oh, well—” 

 The elevator dinged, and Doyoung sighed. “I’ll tell you later. C’mon.”

The hallway it opened up to was lined with pictures of the company's history, starting from pictures of black and white of people in vintage clothing, to pictures in sepia tones to finally pictures of the current CEO at locations around the world: Chanyeol Park.

Jeno walked behind Doyoung as he led him down the hallway, before stopping in front of a door, and a friendly looking man in a suit. 

Junmyeon was a part of Chanyeol’s Security and Intelligence team, and often sat in on these meetings with Jeno. The chain of contact also included him. If Jeno couldn’t contact Doyoung (which rarely happened), he’d contact Junmyeon. And if he couldn’t contact either of them, or it was an emergency, only then could he contact Chanyeol. So far, that had only happened once.

"Hey, Junmyeon," Doyoung said, "Mr. Park's 4:30 is here." 

Junmyeon nodded, before smiling at Jeno and giving him a wave. "Hey, kid."

Jeno offered an awkward grin. "Hi, Mr. Kim."

Junmyeon rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Kid, you're making me feel ancient. I've told you a million times, just call me Junmyeon."

Jeno shuffled awkwardly, before nodding at the older man, watching as he pressed a button on his earpiece. "Hey, Yeol. Jeno's here."

The muffled response was barely heard, but Jeno automatically understood what Mr. Park said. Junmyeon turned to open the door, and let the pair inside. The “office”—if it could even be called that—opened up to more of a lounge, than anything. A wall of glass overlooked the Manhattan skyline, but Jeno knew that from the outside it looked only like a wall, due to camouflage technology developed by Mr. Park himself. As Doyoung and Junmyeon stayed back, closer to the door, Jeno took a few steps toward the man in question.

Chanyeol was standing a few feet in front of the glass window, working on a holographic model of a new piece of tech. His face was turned downward in a concentrated frown. He barely spared the teenager a glance as he said fondly, “Hey, kid.”

Jeno was used to this. Chanyeol wasn’t cold per se, but he wasn’t warm at all. He knew that Chanyeol cared about him, even if he didn’t really show it in a conventional way. Chanyeol was a very… eccentric man, so he had his own way of saying and doing things. 

“Hi, Mr. Park. Um… you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yep! Needed some help from the friendly neighborhood Spiderman… A little birdie told me about something going on in Queens.”

“Queens?” Jeno asked, gripping the straps of his backpack. “You mean, other than the usual stuff?”

“Other than the usual stuff,” Chanyeol repeated, nodding. With a wave of his hand, the hologram disappeared, and another one appeared in its place. This time, instead of a 3D model, a few pictures and another, smaller 3D model appeared. Chanyeol turned to face him, frown deepening. He pointed at the model—a long, shiny oval-shaped purple stone. It reminded Jeno of an amethyst, but instead of turning white at the base, it turned to an iridescent jade tone. “You know what this is, right?”

Jeno nodded, remembering seeing the rocks all over the news when he was a kid. “That’s… that’s a Chitauri stone. From the invasion a few years back.”

Chanyeol nodded, standing up straight. “These stones have the potential to power weapons with no need to recharge, or change them out. They’re an infinite, extremely strong power source, Jeno, and in the wrong hands can be very dangerous.”

Jeno took a deep breath, feeling his stomach sink slowly. Chanyeol sighed. “Cleanup of the city after the invasion was long, and difficult, and obviously the government and the company weren’t able to get everything. It caused a black market to pop up. Now, the NYPD has been investigating it for years, but they have their limits… that’s where you come in.”

“M-me, Mr. Park?”

Chanyeol gave him a crooked, reassuring smile. He pointed at one of the pictures, which was of a man who most likely didn’t know he was photographed. He was walking somewhere, face looking angry and stern.

“You don’t know who this is, right?”

Jeno shook his head, and Chanyeol turned his head to nod at Junmyeon. “You’re up, tough guy.”

Junmyeon huffed, before walking up to Jeno. He put his hand on Jeno’s shoulder as if he could tell that he was growing anxious. 

“Jeno, that’s Henry Duke. From what we understand on the intel team, he’s one of the cornerstones of the alien tech black market. He’s one of the top dogs. From what we understand, he likes to be present for all major negotiations that his group makes. A source of ours told us that there’s going to be a negotiation on Friday night not too far away from LaGuardia. We want you to go out there and just get a feel of what’s going on.”

“Just watch them, right?” Jeno looked at Junmyeon, who patted his back reassuringly. “Just watch. Don’t engage unless you absolutely have to.”

“You can do that, right?” Chanyeol said quietly, crossing his arms. “Because if not, then it’s totally—”

“Yeah, of course I can! Friday—shit, Friday. At what time are they supposed to be meeting up?”

Junmyeon furrowed his eyebrows, before answering, “Around eight or nine.”

Jeno bit his lip, thinking about the promise he’d made to you. It would just have to wait, he supposed. Chanyeol rarely asked anything this big of him.

“Alright,” Jeno agreed, “I’ll do it.”

Chanyeol grinned, clapping his hands together. 

“Perfect.” 

They discussed logistics briefly after. Doyoung would be on call with Jeno, his custom made suit allowing them to communicate, letting Doyoung see everything Jeno was seeing via a video feed coming from the ultra thin lenses placed in the white eye sockets of the mask. Doyoung would then report to Junmyeon, who would report to Chanyeol, who would probably report to the FBI. Jeno was only to engage if absolutely necessary.

After that, he set out on patrol. He usually found some discreet place to hide his backpack, and then went all over Queens looking for trouble, quite literally. Around five thirty, he stopped a robbery in Murray Hill. Then, around seven, he stopped a man from stealing a woman’s purse in Elmhurst. Nothing too much.

Around eight, he finally headed home, this time dressed normally, using the train and not web fluid. He walked home, tired, knowing that he’d immediately have to do that cursed AP calc homework. When he got home, he opened his backpack pocket to look for his keys, rummaging between his notebooks and other things. 

Shuffling through his stuff, he furrowed his eyebrows as he couldn’t find them. Thinking back, he remembered this morning, when he’d left in a rush… and had very obviously left his keys on his desk.

“Shit,” He muttered to himself. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, remembering that Aunt Sunny had said she’d be working overtime tonight. He could very easily sneak in through his window, but he was pretty sure he’d locked it the night before, and it was too early. People’s lights were still on—anyone could see him if they just looked up, and then he would be screwed. 

Huffing and zipping his backpack up, he marched up to your house, before ringing the doorbell. He shifted his weight back and forth, from his heels to the balls of his feet, until the door opened up. A familiar man with a face just like Doyoung's, but older, with graying hair and arms scarred and muscled from years of working on the police force stood in the doorway.

“Jeno?” Your dad offered him a warm smile. “Hey, kiddo, what’s up?”

“Hi, Mr. Kim,” Jeno said, smiling back. He shifted nervously. “I, um… I left my keys in my room this morning, and my aunt’s working late, so… could I… maybe wait here? Y/N’s home, right?” 

The man nodded. “Of course, of course. Come in!” 

Your dad had always been super friendly, even from the day Jeno had first met him. You'd told Jeno once that he was the only real father figure you'd ever had. Once everything settled after him and your mom got married, you started calling him dad altogether. And since you and Jeno were practically glued at the hip, he got along with your dad almost as well as you did.

“Okay.” Jeno stepped in and set down his backpack at the base of the coat rack next to the door, as he’d done a million times before. Jeno stepped into the living room, and sat down on the couch. He folded his hands in his lap and looked up at your dad.

"I think Y/N's in the shower, but she should be done soon. You can just wait here if you want… have you eaten anything yet?”

“Uh, I had a granola bar on the train, but that’s it.”

“We have some leftover pasta here, if you want—”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim, really! I’m fine.”

Your dad nodded, sitting down on his recliner. “So, have you started your college list, yet? Y/N said you wanted to stay here in New York.”

Jeno nodded, pushing some hair out of his face. “Well, yeah. It would make things a lot easier, I think. I might want to apply to NYU, but I think I’ll just go to community college, or something.”

Your dad shook his head. “You’re a pretty smart kid, Jeno. I think you could get into Columbia if you set out to. Plus, Chanyeol Park doesn’t give out internships to anybody. That’s your secret weapon.”

Jeno smiled. “Well, you’ve got a point.” 

Your dad gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Come on, trying won’t hurt!” Your dad made a face, and then rubbed his knuckles. “Have you been working out? Those muscles weren’t there the last time I did that.”

Jeno laughed, trying to think of an excuse. “Oh, a little bit? The house needed some fixing up over the summer, and I wanted to help Aunt Sunny, so…”

“Jeno?” 

He turned immediately, eyes landing on you at the base of the staircase. You’d changed into an old t-shirt and pajama pants. Your hair was slightly damp. “What are you doing here?” You asked, with a curious smile.

His shoulders slumped, and he grinned sheepishly. “Terrible Tuesday strikes again. I forgot my keys.”

You grimaced. “Brutal, dude. You wanna come up?” Your eyes moved to your dad. “Or am I interrupting guy time?”

“Oh, definitely,” Jeno answered, playing along. He took a cocky tone as he rested his hands on the back of his neck. “Your dad was just telling me about how much the NYPD needs me.” 

You stifled a laugh. You dad seemed to be holding back a laugh too. "Hey, you're joking, but if you keep working out like that, and if by some impossible chance, the college thing doesn't work out… We might just be able to catch Spiderman if we finally got some brain cells on the force."

"Ugh, dad," You groaned, unaware of Jeno's gut twisting, "Not again."

"Yeah, Mr. Kim," Jeno said, scratching the back of his head, "He's not that bad."

Your dad shook his head. "Look, I don't hate the guy. In all honesty, crime rates have dropped since he started doing his thing. But he thinks he's above the law, and his methods can be a bit… unorthodox sometimes. He’s been undermining us for years and his tech is state of the art. Makes me wonder about what we should do to modernize the force."

Jeno looked downward, wondering what would happen if your dad knew the truth.

"Well, I guess we may just never find out. Jeno'd make a horrible cop. He couldn't hurt a fly if you paid him a million dollars."

But you came to the rescue as you grabbed his backpack, and soon enough he was up the stairs with you, heading into your bedroom, laughing to yourselves when you heard your dad jokingly call out, "Fifteen inch distance, you two! Door stays open!"

He sat on your desk chair while you lay on your bed, limbs splaying out. 

"So you left your keys."

Jeno groaned. "Don't remind me. I was in such a rush to leave, that I… I forgot. I'm so stupid."

You rolled your eyes, rolling over onto your stomach to look at him. "You're not stupid, Jen. You made an honest mistake because you were in a hurry." 

Standing up, you walked over to him and leaned against the desk. "Seriously, Jeno. What's gotten into you, lately? You freak out about every little thing. It's starting to worry me." 

Jeno shook his head. "I don't know," He admitted. "I think I'm just scared about how after this year, everything changes. Renjun’s headed upstate. Jaemin’s going to Boston. You want to go to LA. I think Hyuck and I are the only ones who want to stay here. I just… I don't want things to change." 

Your expression turned sad as he continued. "Everyone is expecting great things from me. You're smart, Jeno. You can get into an Ivy. Or, you have a Park internship, you'll be fine. What if I don't want things to be fine? What if I want them to just stay the same?"

You stayed silent for a few moments, trying to think of what to say. Jeno was relatively level headed for someone your age, but even he had moments of doubt and panic. It made moments like these difficult.  You sighed before grabbing him by the hand. Wordlessly, you tugged him over to the bed, sitting him down and leaning your head on his shoulder. He could feel the dampness in your hair seeping slowly into his shirt.

"I guess I understand what you mean," You mumbled, trying to reason with him, "But come on. You wouldn't really want everything to stay the same. You can't tell me you want to keep getting AP calc homework. And I definitely doubt that you'd want to have your ass kicked by San for the rest of your life."

Jeno looked at the floor. "You're right. But you know that's not what I mean—"

"I know," You huffed, "I'm just saying. Change… it's inevitable. The longer you fight it, the harder it is."

Jeno nodded. "This sucks."

"It does," You agreed, taking his hand in yours. "But at least we have each other's backs, y'know?"

Something of a smile appeared on his face. You were so close to him, leaning on him, stroking his knuckles with your thumb. He hoped you couldn't hear his heart pounding in his chest. 

"We really do, huh?" His voice turned quiet, with a bit of a sleepy lull to it. He allowed his head to rest on yours. "You're so comfortable. Can I like, use you as a pillow for the rest of my life?"

You giggled. "I'll consider it on two conditions."

"Oh, you'll consider. How generous of you."

"Yes, I'll consider. Now, do you wanna hear my terms or not?" 

Jeno raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead," He said, before putting on his best Marlon Brando voice, "Make me an offer I can't refuse."

Snorting, you lifted your head off of his. "Okay. One, you finish your calculus homework here before Sunny gets home."

He pursed his lips. "Okay, I could probably do that. What's the other one?"

"Let me drive you to school for the rest of the year." 

Jeno stared at you, and you nodded, eyes wide. "Trust me, Jen. You wouldn't need to wake up so early! And plus, you can't text the guy manning the subway asking him to give you five minutes because you need to find your keys."

Jeno gnawed on the inside of his cheek. You did have a point, and to be honest, he could probably refrain from putting his feet up on your dashboard.

"Deal." 

You grinned. "Awesome," You answered, before nodding towards his backpack. "Now get to work, Einstein."

The rest of the week wasn't that bad. Yes, you were absolutely batshit insane about your truck in the morning, but he soon realized he didn't really mind. Not when it allowed you both to spend some twenty extra minutes together in the mornings, and they were spent joking around and listening to your extremely varied playlist. 

On the other hand, he was saddled with more and more homework, greater and greater expectations. The looming threat of Friday's mission rolled around, and it made Jeno feel like time was passing much too slowly but also way too quickly. There was so much on his mind. He had chemistry with you on Thursdays in the afternoon, which also meant that San was there. Which also meant that sometimes, his heightened senses would pick up on San dropping a tacky pick up line which made Jeno want to punch him in the jaw.

Finally, finally, Friday afternoon rolled around. As he bid you goodbye and promised to see you later, he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach. The feeling that something was about to go very, very wrong. He went out on patrol, ready for Doyoung to set up the call and tell him where he needed to go. It didn’t help that there wasn’t a lot for him to do that day. Crime had seemed to slow down altogether. 

When the time finally came, and the sun was beginning to set, Doyoung rang in at about 7, telling him the location. An old warehouse near LaGuardia airport, hidden from prying eyes. Jeno made his way to the place, avoiding security cameras Doyoung warned him about, and found a place to hide. There was a hole in the warehouse roof, which allowed him to peer right into the building without being seen. It was about thirty feet from the ground.

“Why is it always old, abandoned warehouses?” Jeno grumbled. He heard Doyoung laugh quietly. 

“Beats me,” Doyoung sighed. 

And so they waited. Jeno wondered vaguely if you were still working. He wasn’t sure. They made time talking quietly, until a black SUV rolled into the warehouse. “Woah, Doyoung,” He murmured, “Hold up.”

Jeno leaned forward, but quickly realized he probably wouldn’t be able to hear what was being said. “D.R.E.A.M, activate Heightened Intelligence Protocol.”

Activating Heightened Intelligence Protocol.

The protocol allowed Jeno to use the lenses over his eyes to zoom in on specific targets, as well as use a microphone embedded in the suit to pick up audio from far away and feed it directly into his ears.

He watched as three figures got out of the car, a fourth remaining in the driver’s seat. The trio stood in front of the car, and Jeno recognized the man in the middle as the man Junmyeon had been talking about.

“Alright, there’s Henry Duke,” He said, “The one in the middle.”

 “Got it,” Doyoung replied, sounding satisfied. “Now all we have to do is wait for the other party.”

“Did Junmyeon’s sources say anything about who it would be?”

“No. They weren’t able to find that out. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Jeno’s eyes never left the man. “Do you think it’s something international?”

Doyoung sighed. “I’m not sure. If it is international, then you need to be even more careful.”

“Got it. I think—Wait, here they come.” 

A second vehicle, this one another black SUV, rolled up not too far away from the first car. The lights turned off and the engine sputtered to a stop, and four men stepped out of the vehicle.

Jeno’s stomach dropped, and of its own accord, his mouth let loose a quiet, “What the fuck,” as he registered the person leading them. 

“What?” Doyoung asked, before realizing what—who—he was looking at. “...Is that my dad?”

“I think it is,” Jeno whispered, fingertips suddenly numb. Who was he kidding? They both knew who it was. 

“So,” One of the men next to your dad said, “You show us yours, we’ll show you ours?”

Henry Duke clapped his hands together with an impish grin. “I suppose. Reagan, get the case.”

One of the two men standing beside him started off toward the trunk of the car. “It caught me off guard when I heard that the force wanted to purchase these. Almost made me wonder if this was your attempt at a sting operation.”

“What made you change your mind?” Your dad asked. Jeno swallowed at how cold he sounded. This wasn’t your dad, and it didn’t seem like Officer Kim either. This was someone Jeno had never met before. 

“Honestly, Kim?” Duke raised an eyebrow, shrugging. “It was you. Your cooperativeness and willing to feed us information, as well as your… insurance agreement. And besides, you made a very interesting point when you said that the Avengers Initiative and Park’s alum Spiderman is ruining the way the law operates around here. That type of bitterness… hard to fake.”

Your dad huffed. “We’re fucking tired of it.”

The man leaning against the car your dad had stepped out of scoffed. “If this helps us catch the little asshole, then so be it.”

Jeno frowned. “I’m not little—”

“Jeno, shut up!” Doyoung snapped. 

“—Alright, then.” The man holding the briefcase—Reagan—clicked it open, as if it were a prize reveal on The Price is Right. Five guns, all modified to hold glowing Chitauri stones were placed carefully together side by side.

“You know the basics. No radiation. Keep it away from security scanners and x-rays. They will blow up. And second of all, these are at half the price, along with the promise from the chief of police that my business won’t be touched, and will only be distributed to officers in on the operation and have agreed to turn off their body cameras when they decide to use these weapons. Should this not be a sting operation, we’ll be back here to negotiate.”

Jeno leaned forward, watching anxiously.

“Yes, sir,” Your dad answered, nodding. “We have the money here.”

“Hand it over, then.”

That was when Jeno made his mistake. He leaned forward too much, and proceeded to fall right through the hole, bringing down some scraps of the roof with him. As he tumbled through the air, the zoom on his lenses caused him to grow dizzy as he had no idea what he was looking at. He caught himself before he could fall, clumsily commanding D.R.E.A.M to go back to turn off the current protocol. His vision returned to normal, and he swung up onto a rafter holding the warehouse up.

“So, we have company.” Duke didn’t sound as amused as he had before. His face turned into a sneer. “Get him.”

In less than a second, before Jeno could say anything, five guns were pointed directly at him. He managed to swing away before any bullets could hit him. 

“Jeno, get out of there now,” Doyoung ordered. 

“What about the guns?” Jeno asked, swinging to another rafter. “They know I’m here, I might as well get them before I go—”

“No! Jeno, listen to what I’m telling you. You’ve done more than enough, and you need to let it g—”

Your dad aimed, and a bullet fired right at Jeno’s chest. For a second, he forgot that the chest area of the suit was lined with bulletproof material. While it didn’t shoot into his chest, it ricocheted right off him, and since he was in motion, it somehow caused the bullet to bounce back in the direction in which it came. 

The wind was knocked out of Jeno, but it was nothing compared to watching the bullet land in the middle of your father’s chest. On the other line, he heard Doyoung yell, followed by the sound of something falling. And then, as he made his way back towards the hole he’d fallen out of, he couldn’t rip his eyes away from the body as it crumpled to the ground. 

The others around him scrambled to get back into their respective cars. Jeno was back on the roof now, trying not to hyperventilate. “I’m sorry,” He gasped, “Do—Doyoung, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to—”

“Jeno, you need to get out of there, now,” Doyoung said, voice raspy. “GO!” 

So he did, and Doyoung cut off the call once he was out of the vicinity. Jeno didn’t blame him. He swung across buildings, feeling numb as he looked for the apartment complex roof where he’d decided to hide his backpack.

When he finally did, he changed in a hurry, before slumping against the wall and forcing himself to take deep breaths. 

Doyoung’s dad—your dad—was dead. And it was all his fault. 

He cried on the way down the staircase. He cried on his way to the subway. The entire time, he ignored people’s stares. Suddenly everything was too loud, and if he met someone in the eyes he’d just about break down in the middle of the station. 

As he got onto the train, Jeno thought about all of the things your dad had done for you, and for Jeno. All the times he'd taken you both to Coney Island in the summer when you were younger. The year Pokemon Go came out he took the both of you driving around in his car so you and Jeno could catch as many Pokemon as you could. 

He’d formally adopted you when you were thirteen. You were his daughter in nearly every sense of the word, regardless of blood. And now he was dead, because of a stupid mistake that Jeno had made.

What would you say if you knew? He didn’t want to know. Checking the time on his phone, he saw he’d gotten a message from you just three minutes ago.

[8:36 PM]

y/n: lemme know when ur outside!! :)

“Fuck,” He murmured, wiping his eyes. He knew he needed to stop crying before he got to your house, and he had about ten minutes before he got to his stop, and then another five minute walk to the neighborhood. He focused on taking deep breaths and taking long swigs from his water bottle in the meantime, trying to tune out the sound of other people talking and the sound of the train on the rails.

The walk was the longest five minute walk he’d ever taken. The flashing lights of convenience stores did nothing to calm him down. As the stores in his peripheral vision began transitioning into suburban homes, he felt his heart speed up again. The constant movement as he walked meant he missed his phone vibrating in his backpack as you rang his number.

After what seemed like an eternity, two familiar houses came into his line of vision, and his shoulders slumped as he spotted you on your porch, looking small and teary, curled up into a little ball. In one hand, you were clutching your phone.

His stomach twisted as he put on a confused tone, even though he knew damn well that you knew. “...Y/N?”

You stood up, running to him and burying yourself into his chest, crumpling into his arms. You would have fell over if Jeno hadn’t held both of you up. 

“Jeno,” You sobbed, “You’re n-not go-onna believe it.”

He brought a hand up to caress your hair, holding back tears of his own as he asked a question he already knew the answer to.

“Y/N, what happened?”

taglist: @decembermoonskz @itsapapisongo @lenaluvs​ @crescentjen​

[aelingalathyniusrailme]

'Hello life ruiner' 'oh calm down that was years ago and your life doesn't look that ruined to me' for Lucien and Eris?

ok so sorry this took me so long but here it is. I kind of went for a Damon/Stefan Esque vibe so hope you enjoy

A knock on the door had eris up from bed too early.

“Are you kidding me?” his lover asked. Their time together was rare as they were typically both occupied during this time of day, setting aside a few hours a week to make time for each other.

“I’m sorry love, I’ll be back to bed soon, and” eris smirked. “We’ll finish what we started.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

“I’m counting on it” Eris quickly put a shirt on and walked to the door and peered through the hole. You have got to be fucking kidding me. Eris took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Hello, life ruiner.”

Lucien gave the appearance of looking around. “Oh calm down, that was years ago and your life doesn’t look that ruined to me”

“Yes well, when you left my reputation shattered with my father's blood on my hands it took half a century to get back to a fraction of where I was.”

“So dramatic and we both know that that was only partly my fault.” When Eris didn’t respond, Lucien filled the silence. “Half a century? Huh, has it really been that long?” god his brother was infuriating, it took all of eris’s self-control not to smack him across his face.

“I actually believe it’s been about 75 years.” Eris turned around to face the voice. “Hello, Lucien.”

Lucien looked amused. “Hello Azriel.”

“That mate of yours making you lose track of time?” Azriel chuckled as Lucien tensed.

“Elain is doing well thank you for asking, I see you and my brother have remained close throughout the years.”

“Extremely and thoroughly” eris provided, enjoying the way Lucien shifted uncomfortably. “And as fun, as this little visit was, I have more important” Lucien's eyes flicked to Azriel. “Things to do.”

“Can’t get rid of me that fast brother, I was instructed to reconcile with you or sleep outside.”

“That bad? Seems to be a regular occurrence for you.”

“There’s that sense of humor I missed so much,” Lucien drawled. “So will you have a drink with me?”

“No.” Eris began to shut the door before Azriel stopped him.

“Sorry, can we just have a minute please?”

Lucien appeared grateful. “Of course.”

Eris turned to Azriel, “he destroyed my life, I am not going to have a drink with him.”

“Sweetie, it’s been almost a century and it was mostly beron’s fault.”

“Keyword being almost. Check back in 25”

“Minutes?” Azriel asked hopefully.

“Years.” Eris was about to walk away when Azriel stopped him gently grabbing his arm.

“Eris.” He turned to face him, Eris's gaze softening.

“Please, if not for him then for me, have a drink with your brother and maybe there will be some rewards after.” Eris hated when he got like that, everything about his resolve crumbled and all he wanted was to melt into his hard chest.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “But those rewards better be nothing short of spectacular.”

It was Azriel's turn to smirk. “Oh, they will be.” He turned, dropping Eris’s arm, and walked back to his bedroom on silent feet, fading into the shadows. He looked like a god and Eris had to force himself to turn away. He opened the door once more to find his half-brother standing against the side of his house in a nonchalant manner, pretending he hadn’t been listening.

He shot Lucien a look. “Not a word.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“There are rules.”

“The control freak strikes again.” Eris shot him another look. “Ok ok, what are they?”

“You get 1 hour, and the words Mom, dad, hellion, Gwyn and our dead brothers do not come up.”

“No family, got it.” he held his hand out, eris knew he expected him to ask where they were going so he didn’t. Instead, he took his hand as Lucien winnowed them away.

A second later Eris opened his eyes immediately recognizing the stuffy summer court. It reeked of joy and pleasantries Eris did not want to participate in. They walked in silence into the town square to whatever trashy bar or club Lucien was taking him to. Suddenly he stopped in front of what appeared to be a lingerie store.

“Need some new panties brother?” He ignored him instead walking inside and whispering something to the cashier, something even his fae ears couldn’t pick up. The cashier flashed them a sly smile and walked to a rack of clothes. She snapped her fingers and a door appeared, Lucien turned to Eris and although this was unexpected, he kept his features completely neutral. Alright, at least he’s trying to make this interesting. He followed him through the door and down the stairs to a dark room lit with neon lights. The room was large and filled with high fae and faeries alike.

“It’s a chain, across all 7 courts, called the underground beluga.” Lucien provided even though Eris had pointedly not asked.

“Inconspicuous.” He chuckled at that. They went up to the bar and sat down.

“Bourbon please” and at the same Lucien said “a round of shots.”

The waiter looked confused, “So which is it, bourbon or shots?”

“We’ll have both.” Answered Eris to both the waiter and Lucien’s delight.

“I like your style.” responded the waiter.

Lucien clapped him on the back and pushed him to sit down. “As do I.”

Drink after drink came and just 1 had turned into 5, 7, maybe 10? It was hard to keep track. It started off tense but by drink 3 Eris and Lucien had dissolved into jokes and memories. Reminiscing the good, eluding the bad. They spoke of their childhood and when they had been close. He did well with avoiding the topic of family.

Eris was drunk as fuck. His mind was hazy and his vision blurred but he was sure that it was his name being called up to the stage. “Eris vanserra you’re up for karaoke, it was requested by a member in this club, that would like to remain anonymous, for you to sing don’t stop believin by journey to the middle.” He blinked twice and turned around to face his brother. The sly fox was smirking.

“Oh, you little shit.”

He took a sip from his bourbon, “I have no idea what you mean”

The host's voice came again “Eris, come on lad you’re not above karaoke get your ass up here.”

“You heard the man.”

And then the cheering began. “ER-IS ER-IS ER-IS”

“Come on brother, give the crowd what they want.” but eris had a better idea.

“Alright,” He paused, smirking, “brother.” Eris pressed his hand on Lucien's shoulder and winnowed them both to the stage. “This performance will now be a duet,” he announced to the crowd, causing an epidemic of cheering. Lucien’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson, one not too different from the color of his hair. The music began and the lyrics to the song appeared in the air. Well this was happening, eris thought, might as well lean into it.

He gripped the microphone in one hand, letting the alcohol take over, and belted. “JUST A SMALL TOWN GIRL.” he winked at a seraphim, walking to the center of the stage. “LIVIN IN A LO-NELY WORLDD. SHE TOOK THE MIDNIGHT TRAIN GOIN AN-Y-WHERE.”

Eris looked to Lucien, enjoying the shock on his face, he gave him a look as if to say, your move brother.

Lucien cracked his neck, ran a hand through his hair and took the microphone in both hands. “JUST A CITY BOY. BORN AND RAISED IN SOUTH DESTROITTT.” with each word, his voice became more and more confident. “HE TOOK THE MIDNIGHT TRAIN GOIN AN-Y-WHERE”

Eris took the next two lines. “A SINGER IN A SMO-KEY ROOM. THE SMELL OF WINE AND CHEAP PERF-UMEE.”

Lucien cut him off. “FOR A SMILE THEY’D SHARE THE NIGHT. IT GOES ON AND ON, AND ON, AND ON.”

He joined Eris in the middle of the stage and they sang together. “STRANGERS, WAITIN. UP AND DOWN THE BOULEVARD. THEIR SHADOWS.” With the snap of Eris's fingers, their shadows reflected on the curtain began to dance on their own and he lit everything up in a heatless flame. “SEARCHIN IN THE NIGHTTT. STREETLIGHTS, PEOPLE. LIVIN JUST TO FIND EMOTION.” Eris and Lucien looked to each other and then at the crowd that was going crazy. “HIDIN, SOMEWHERE IN THE NIGHTTTT.”

In reality, they were sweaty, off-tune, drunk idiots doing karaoke. But to Eris in his drunken stupor, thought they were gods on that stage. Leaving every emotion he had felt in his almost 600 years with don’t stop believin. He was on a high and could not be brought down no matter what. Up on that stage with his brother, he was invincible.

They sang at least 4 more songs, each one more insane than the last. They drank and joked until the sun came up. And though Eris had nowhere near forgiven his brother, maybe just maybe he had taken a step in the right direction.

[acourtofsnakes]

Cabur - Rogue, Chapter 6| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f)

Summary: A few weeks have passed and after landing on a small planet to collect a bounty, you and Mando decide to take a little trip to the market to stock up on some things. Nothing will come up here.. right?

Warnings: Angsty angsty annnnngst, (Sorry, I don’t mean to be so horrible to dear reader), Swearing (mild), brief mentions of death, touching on the same things as chapter 4 but not as heavy but I’ll still add the trigger warnings ♥︎ These chapters will get lighter, I promise,

Not beta read, I wanted to get this one out because I love it so apologies for any mistakes, I’ll be going in to edit a little later

Trigger warnings: Anxiety, horrible thoughts/insults, triggering comments maybe, thoughts of not being able to cope. 

Words: About 6210

AN: Okay, okay, so, I was listening to my Rogue playlist on Spotify (link coming soon) and a certain song came on that just fuelled this chapter. SO, I highly recommend listening to Leave A Light On by Tom Walker if you want the vibes for this chapter. Just… honestly, please do it (I may have had tears)

As always, credit to whoever owns the gif. I usually find them on Google or Pinterest, so message me if it’s yours ♥︎

Rogue Taglist:  @snipskixandbeskar   @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss

Rogue Masterlist | Introduction| 1: Solus| 2: Arir | 3: Tor | 4: Gaa'tayl | 5: Kyr’am | 6: Cabur |

Mando’a translation: Cabur - Protector or Guardian

A few weeks had passed since that night you saved the Mandalorian’s life, since he threw away the bounty puck to keep you safe. 

You’d stayed that night grounded, and then when Mando was able to get up in the morning, he flew you off of that dump of a planet. 

He didn’t ask anymore but how you had managed to save him. Whether he knew you were lying or not, he hadn’t pushed it, choosing instead to respect you. Kind of like how you respected him and his Creed. 

You’d fallen into a sort of routine around the Razor Crest, without either of you realising it. Mando would fly the ship, and you could be found seeing to Grogu and Duru, or tidying things up. Sometimes you would clean the weapons in the cabinet, making sure they stayed in pristine condition. 

Now and then, Mando would head out to get a bounty and when he got back, he would let you help patch him up. You never saw his bare skin, respected that. You would look away or close your eyes, pointing out the best things to use or how to administer them. The man was good at first aid, but his answer to everything was to shove the cauteriser on it. So, when you had been passing through some shops one day, you had stocked up on medical supplies, even found a shop selling the same herbs and plants that your mother had taught you about. 

You’d even been on a few of the hunts with him. 

Of course, you had argued first. When you’d asked him about it one day on the way out of Nevarro, Mando had simply said no. 

Which had immediately riled you. You were not a girl who liked that word. You despised that word. 

Which is how you’d spent the whole night and next two days bickering, over the question of your safety. When he lost that front, (“Seriously, Mando? I’m a fugitive. And after all, I’ve got a big, strong Mandalorian to protect me”) the Mandalorian had moved on to your lack of thinking before throwing yourself into the firefight.

He lost that one too. 

(“Says the man who stole back a child surrounded by Stormtroopers.”

“You’re not coming. End of.”

“Did you want me to bring your pulse rifle over?”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“You’re right. Pulse rifle and an extra blaster.”

“I hate you, you know that?”

“Sure you do, Lori. I’ll see you at the ramp.”)

That nickname had slipped out by accident, and he’d regarded you, for a long time. He’d gone still, and you almost swore you heard a hitch of breath through his helmet and then he just nodded and murmured softly, “See you down there.”

There had been a lot of little moments like that but they were so fleeting that you were almost convinced you’d imagined it. You were imagining a lot of things lately. 

Sometimes, when you were walking through forests or towns, you thought you spotted something lingering at the edges of your vision. 

A tall figure, cloaked in a hood that was embroidered in either silver or gold, depending on the light. 

You’d even asked Mando about it a few times, but he hadn’t seen anything so you simply put it down to a trick of the light or sleeplessness, nightmares still plaguing you now and then. 

Regardless of the nightmares and your vision playing tricks on you, you were doing… okay. You were warm, safe, had a comfy place to sleep. You had things to keep you busy, things that weren’t hunting for food or a good spot to hunker down in for the night. 

Duru was happy too, having become fast friends with Grogu and the two of them ran rings around you and the Mandalorian. Well, mainly Mando, which you found hilarious because he was such an exasperated dad with them both. 

It was a rare reprieve from your life, letting you slow down and… live. Rather than survive. 

~~

“I do not talk in my sleep.” 

“Yes, you do!! Sometimes, I think you’re awake but you’re just having a fully-fledged conversation with your blanket.” 

“Oh, shut up. I know I don’t talk in my sleep, tin can. You were probably just having dreams about me again.” You examined the fruit in front of you, then handed over a few credits to the kind vendor, slipping the fruit in your bag. 

The sound of fabric hitting the floor sounded from behind you, and you turned to see that the Mandalorian had dropped the bag you’d made him carry. “I do NOT have dreams about you!” He stooped to pick up the bag, then rose to see you standing with your hands on your hips, eyebrow raised and that damn smirk on your lips. 

“Mmhm, is that why you always have to pull something over your lap when I wake you up?”

He stared at you, and you had the very correct feeling that he was looking at you in mild shock, too caught out to come up with his usual cocky response. “I -you.. That’s completely..”

You burst out laughing, rolling your eyes at him and then dropping him a wink, “Come get me when you’ve thought of a response, Lori.” You turned and carried on walking through the market. 

The two of you had stopped off on a nearby trading planet, to gather supplies. Mando had recently secured a bounty with your help and it had paid well, giving you enough extra credits to stock up and treat yourselves. Grogu was already half-way through a packet of blue macarons, which would no doubt come back to bite you both later when he was pelting through the ship whilst you tried to catch him. And it would be your fault because you had taken one look at those big ears and eyes, determined not to break but when the little womp rat had cooed at you… Of course, he had gotten his own way. 

It felt good, to wander a market and not be scrounging for things under the cover of a hooded cloak. You still had one on, you couldn’t bear to part with this item, the most beautiful piece of clothing you had ever had. You just didn’t have the hood up disguising you. 

A gift, from Mando. 

The first time you went out with him after the puck was destroyed, Mandalorian had insisted you wear yours. However, it had been covered in his blood from his injury, and you couldn’t get it out, no matter how hard you had tried. It hadn’t bothered you that much, though you were.. not sad as such, but it felt a little strange because it had been one of your few possessions for so long. But, maybe it was a symbol. That things had changed, and that was in the past. 

A couple of days later, you had just walked into the cockpit when you noticed there was a package on your seat. When you picked it up, it was squishy, bound in a sort of thick papery material and tied with a length of string. 

You’d glanced at the Mandalorian, who was watching you, the picture of calm but his hands had been fiddling with something on his belt, a shockingly nervous gesture you weren’t used to. 

That simple, uncertain gesture had risen your pulse and you unwrapped the package, trying not to show how your hands were shaking at the first gift you’d received since being a child. 

A gift from the Mandalorian. 

Pulling away the paper had revealed a mass of fabric, a blue so deep it was almost the same colour as the night sky. You’d lifted it out and it had unfolded and revealed itself to be a new cloak. The material was soft, thick enough to keep out a biting chill. You’d made a noise of awe and surprise, but had immediately fallen in love with it, pulling it on. It fell to about the middle of your calves and secured at the base of your neck with a small silver clasp. 

The inside was lined with a thin layer of heat-reflective material, and when you’d run a hand over it, Mando had finally broken his silence, “I noticed you were always cold, even if you had layers on so I.. wanted to make sure you weren’t cold anymore..” 

You swore you could almost feel the heat creeping up his neck, and that softened you. He was nervous about giving you this cloak, like he didn’t know how you would take it. 

You had smiled at him, a soft smile that made your eyes glitter like the surrounding stars and placed a hand on his knee lightly, “Thank you, Lori. I adore it, I truly do.” Then you’d spent the next minutes admiring it, putting the hood up and realising it shielded your face in shadow. 

So, naturally, you had moved around the cockpit and upper level like a phantom, pretending to be a shadow in the night. 

You’d even earned yourself a laugh from the great wall of beskar that was fast becoming your friend.  It was only a soft chuckle, just picked up by the vocoder, but all the same, it had lit something within you. 

It still echoed in your ears now. 

A few moments later, the Mandalorian was back at your side, Grogu in his little bag and Duru walking next to him. “The point still stands. I thought I might finally get some silence at night, but you talk just as much.” His raspy voice had a softened edge, one of teasing and you might even have heard the hints of a smile playing at his lips. 

You turned to look at him over your shoulder, “You love it when I talk. I have to talk to you, otherwise I’d be worried you had turned to stone. You’re so quiet sometimes.” You stopped at a stall, admiring the fabrics here – not to buy, just to look at the different things in a place you had never seen before. 

The Mandalorian made a soft noise, “No, sweetheart, that’s just called quiet time. You might want to try it sometime.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but something behind Mando caught your eye. Rising up on tiptoe, you peered over his shoulder… but there was nothing there. Weird. You could have sworn you saw someone wearing a hood just… watching you. 

You shrugged, assuming you had imagined it like before and then looked back to the man before you, “I can be quiet. I just choose to fill your hours with my wonderful voice.” You flashed him a grin, eyes dancing. 

A voice cut across before Mando could talk to you, “You.” It was a snarl, tinged with recognition that wasn’t exactly the most positive. It was bitter, aggressive and almost… pained. 

Mando turned quickly, his hand flying toward the blaster on his hip, instinct overriding him. His movement allowed you to see who had just interrupted the conversation. 

A lady stood there, with curly magenta hair twisted up into a braid. She had tattoos along her neck, and her eyes were a shocking green. She was breathing quickly, staring at you with such disdain that it made your neck prickle. 

How did you know this woman? You’d never been to this planet before.

You blinked, holding up your hands as a surrender gesture, “Uh… I’m sorry but I don’t know you. I think you must have me confused with someone else…”

The lady shook her head fiercely, making the whisps of her hair that had escaped bounce wildly. “No. I do not have you confused. I would know you anywhere.” Her eyes were wild with fury, pinning you to the ground with just a stare. 

“I’m sorry, but I really don’t know who you are. Maybe you could tell me your name?” You extended a hand, trying to diffuse this situation and help the woman understand that you aren’t who she thinks. 

She flinched back from your reach, even though she was still a good few feet away. “How dare you. You don’t even know who I am?” She made a noise of disgust, looking you up and down in such a way that you were surprised the skin didn’t flay from your bones, “Typical. I don’t know why I’m surprised. She was probably just another tool to you, wasn’t she? Another person to use and discard like trash.”

You blinked, your hands dropping to your sides. Your skin began to tighten, your blood turning a little frosty. You looked to the side, seeing a few people start to stop and watch this altercation happen. 

The Mandalorian seemed to pick up on this at the same time as you. He turned more toward the lady, his hand still within reach of his blaster, “Why don’t we take this somewhere more private?”

The woman barely even looked at him, “Don’t get involved in this, Mandalorian. You’re just as bad as she is. At least to do what you do, you have to have respect and creed. You have morals, no matter how murky they are.” She jabbed a finger at you, “Unlike this savage monster.”

Your breathing immediately shallowed, getting a little unsteady as she spat out that word, that hateful word that followed you around and hounded at your feet. “I’m sorry? For whatever I’ve done, I’m sorry if it’s hurt you. I didn’t mean it, truly-”

She laughed, a cold and cruel laugh, but her eyes were slowly turning glassy with tears. She took a few steps closer, “You don’t even remember her name, do you? Shall I remind you? Help you distinguish her from your kill list?” 

You didn’t fail to notice the way the Mandalorian’s stance shifted. His body tightened and he stood closer, shielding you slightly with one of those ridiculously broad shoulders. He was going on the defensive, feeling the situation start to spiral. 

The woman barely spared him another glance, “3 years ago, you showed up on Trask. You stumbled around the market for a few days, bleeding from a wound in your leg and you passed out.”

Realisation was beginning to filter through you. It sparked in your mind and you remembered a dark street and rain, your leg heavy and cumbersome beneath you. It had burned like fire and when you went down, you couldn’t get back up again. 

The woman was still talking, “Someone picked you up, took you to their home. My sister. She was there for work, and saw you lying in the street, like some kind of dumped animal. She nursed you back to health, gave you somewhere to stay.” She could see it as it began back to you, “You took her aid, her comfort and then, there was a warning put out in the village. There had been a high-risk fugitive spotted in the village. Anyone with information was to come forward immediately.”

Your hands curled into fists, your chest shuddering as guilt and darkness began to swirl within you, “Stop.” 

She chose not to hear your quiet plea, “I was supposed to meet her. But she sent me a comms message. She would meet me, but she would have someone else with her. Someone who she couldn’t tell me over a comms message. Someone in trouble. People said this girl was dangerous, to be handed over with no hesitation but she didn’t see that. No, she said this girl was terrified, that she just wanted to live.” She tilted her head, walking closer again, “But the next day, this special little girl was gone. And then the Imperials came.” Her voice shook, her expression unreadable. 

You shook your head mutely, not wanting to hear this, memories flooding your brain. 

“Someone had tipped them off that my sister was harbouring a fugitive. They tore through her home, destroyed it and dragged her in for questioning. They demanded she tell them, beat her when she denied it. She never gave it up.” 

The woman was right in front of the Mandalorian now, who extended his arm out, ‘That’s close enough.” 

Nausea roiled your stomach, and you weren’t sure if you were going to pass out or throw up. There were too many eyes on you, too many people watching as this woman revealed you bit by bit. 

The woman lowered her voice, deadly soft and it shook, but carried in the silent square, “My sister was murdered because of you. Because of what you are.” 

Mando froze, his head tilting back to look at you slightly. You still hadn’t told him. 

She wasn’t done. “They told me a few weeks ago that you’d been captured by a Mandalorian. I wept with relief that day, because I knew the Mandalorian wouldn’t fail. You’d be taken to whoever wanted you, and you would finally repent for every single sin you’ve ever committed. Your life is littered with them. My sister, my beloved sister is dead because of you. A killer. A beast. Your hands are stained red, girl, and they will always be stained red. I admit, I’m disappointed that you slithered into his head with your poison too but you will kill him too and then… You deserve everything that will ever come to you. And more.” The woman was breathing almost as quickly as you, her eyes glinting in sick delight at the pain she was causing you. 

My sister is dead because of you. 

A beast.

Her words mingled with that seductively dark voice in your mind and you gasped for a breath, knives feeling like they were digging into your lungs. Your eyes darted around, noted the strangers looking at you with horror and that shared disgust. A father pushed his daughter behind his legs as he caught your stare, hissing at you. 

A flinch ran down your body and without a second thought, you turned tail and bolted. The sunlight was too bright, obscuring your vision harshly and making you stumble every now and then. 

You were distantly aware of a male’s shout, then a harsh thumb and the Mandalorian’s voice snarling, “Stay down.” He stopped to check your pursuer was down and then he was running after you. “Hey, wait.”

You ignored him, boots pounding into the dust as you ran through the market, needing to get out of this place, get away from her and the memories. Where the hell was the ship? It was right here a minute ago. I haven’t gone the wrong way. This is the way we came. 

You could still hear Mando behind you, knew he was hot on your heels. “Drop it, Mando.” You led him around people and stalls, knowing if wanted to be in front of you, he would be. He was letting you flee, stopping anyone coming after you. 

Dodging around a crate of fruit, you almost sobbed. There it was, the Crest, gleaming in the sunlight. You slowed down as you reached it, stopping a little way away to let the ramp come down, let you inside to sanctuary. 

Nothing happened. 

Bastard. 

You took a breath, trying to get past the tightness in your lungs, “Let me in.”

“No. Not until you tell me what’s going on.” His voice was firm, arrogant, in a way like he knew best and you’d listen to him. 

~“A killer. A beast. Your hands are stained red.”~

Your hands curled into fists at your sides, staring at the Crest, at where the ramp was tucked in tight. Your heart was pounding, not from the run, but from the realisation that no matter where you went, there would always be someone you had touched with that curse. “No. I’m not telling you anything. I don’t owe you anything.”

He laughed behind you, but it was a cool laugh, nothing humorous in it, “I’m not saying you owe me anything, princess. But some woman just cornered you in the street and spat abuse at you. I thought I would be prying you off of her, not chasing after you.” 

A wolf. No. A beast.

You spun round, eyebrow raised, “Because I’m some wild animal that would rather fight than talk my way out of a situation?” 

If he had no helmet, you would have seen him blink, “No, I’m not saying that. But, well. You have to admit it, don’t you?”

Something was beginning to prickle up the back of your neck, his words threatening to cut a little close, “Admit what?” Venom laced your tone and you tensed, as if bracing for a punch.

The Mandalorian walked closer, oozing confidence like he somehow knew you better than you knew yourself, “You don’t really think, do you? You never calculate the risks of a fight. You just jump straight in with no regard for your own safety. I mean, when I came for you on Sorgan, anyone smart would have seen a Mandalorian and run.” He wasn’t saying it in an arrogant way, he was saying it as fact. And he was right. A Mandalorian appeared on the street and you turned around and crossed to the other side. You didn’t engage him a fight and flirt with him. 

A cold laugh rocked though you and you tilted your head, “Anyone smart? So you’re calling me stupid now? Is that it? Beast or stupid?” You took a few steps closer to him, ignoring the villagers milling around that had started to look, having heard the fight in the centre of the market. “Don’t you dare tell me I don’t calculate risks. You think I’ve had time to calculate risks in my life? I don’t have time to sit with my little notepad in my ship and jot down the pro’s and con’s of engaging in battle. I didn’t have the luxury of being trained like you.”

Bitter astonishment filled the Mandalorian’s voice, his own body going rigid, “The luxury of training?! You think I chose to become a Mandalorian? That I woke up one morning and skipped along to Mandalorian school?” His voice rose, the rough rasp turning to stone with every word.

You observed him with a steely gaze, something in you needing to push him away, to protect yourself before he got too close. So, you aimed for what you knew would work, his Creed. Your eyebrows rose, looking him up and down as you leaned your weight on one leg, “You’re telling me you weren’t born with that thing already stuck on your head?” Spiteful sarcasm dripped from your voice and you pointed up at his helmet. 

The Mandalorian let out a snarl that no doubt usually sent normal people running. He stalked toward you with predatory grace, a hunter toward his prey.  “Don’t you dare.” Like he read in your eyes where you were going with this. 

Ugly triumph filtered though you as you stood your ground, not afraid of him, “It’s all the same with you Mandalorians, isn’t it. You have all your training, don your shiny armour and suddenly you’re better than anyone. That helmet goes on, you don’t have to face the consequences of what you’ve done. No one knows who you are, so you don’t need to take the blame.” These words were spiteful, beyond cruel and you hated yourself more and more for each one, but he was starting to get into the cracks, starting to see you. You couldn’t see him die. 

Mando was right in front of you now, towering above you with all his broad-shouldered posture, frustration roiling off of him in waves. “You think I don’t feel remorse for what I’ve done?” His voice was so low, barely leashed. 

You nearly purred, tasting the promise of a fight, even if it did twist a knife into your heart. “I’ve never seen it.” You tilted your head back to look up at him, letting every ounce of spoilt, cruel brattiness melt into your expression. 

A soft growl rumbled through the helmet, so muted you barely heard it in the noises of the market behind him. 

Yes. Yes.

And then he relaxed, his shoulders eased and his hands uncurled. 

What? No – Disappointment, maybe even shock registered on your expression. You’d been sure, so sure that aiming for his beloved Creed would get him to fight you. Why hadn’t it worked?

Mando shook his head, the sunlight bouncing off of the shiny metal, “No. I’m not doing this with you. You can’t push me away, no matter how hard you try. You don’t mean anything that you just said, I can see it in your eyes.” He pressed a button on his vambrace, and the ramp opened behind you. 

He saw you. 

That dark beast was starting to awaken, its ears pricking up. You needed to get out of here, away from him, away from this, now. You just shook your head, turning around and walking up the ramp, watching Duru as she ran ahead of you. 

Footsteps sounded from behind you as the Mandalorian followed you. He took Grogu from his little pouch, popping him on a cargo crate and Duru immediately jumped up next to him. “Don’t walk away from me. I’m trying to help you, but you keep shutting me out. Why did that woman say those things about you?” His gloved hand enveloped your wrist, his grip not tight or authoritative, but it began to break something in you. 

“Let me go, Mando. I mean it.” You let ice creep into your tone, trying to disguise the cracking inside you, the darkness that was beginning to stir and whisper. 

And the damn tin can saw it all. Your back was to him, but he still fucking knew, “Please… You know I would never judge you for it, for whatever you did to make her say that.”

Excuse me?

Anger flared through you now, igniting into a blaze and you snarled, “Whatever I did?!” You didn’t give him time to respond, not before you swung around, using his grip on your wrist for leverage. You had spent enough time around him now to become familiar with the plates of his armour, so you knew you aimed correctly when your fist connected with the side of his ribs between the front and back plates. 

He grunted, jolting a little but he still didn’t let go. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant-” His voice had softened and, in your rage and hurt, you mistook the pleading tone for a condescending one. 

Before he could finish, you punched him again, harder, “Don’t. Don’t try to start spewing excuses at me. I knew perfectly well what you meant. You thought that she had been hurt by me. That I killed her sister with my own hands. Probably slit her throat and bathed in her blood.”

“No, no, I didn’t. If you would just listen to me and stop shouting, please-“

Your foot connected with his shin, making him stumble backwards. You followed after him, “You didn’t even stop to think that maybe, for once, I didn’t actually do anything. But no. Like always, you looked at me and saw the worst. You assumed that I was a monster.” You chopped down at his inner elbow this time, causing him to let go of you in reflex. 

Mando tilted his head, his voice coming out sharper this time, “I assumed?” He laughed, the bastard laughed, “What else am I supposed to do, sweetheart? You’ve been on this ship for nearly a month now and I still don’t know anything about you. So yes, I was wrong for assuming, but can you blame me?”

Your eyes flashed and you were on him again, “So it’s my fault that you thought I was a monster? You’d met me for all of two seconds on Sorgan and started whispering in my ear like honey, that death followed me wherever I went. There was a bounty over my head and that’s all you saw.” 

Mando went still, his shoulders tightened, and his voice came out lower, “You’re still bringing that up? I told you that you weren’t my bounty anymore.”

Before you could answer him, that velvety voice inside your head started to whisper in your ear, “Oh no, oh my sweet darling. He sees you. The real you.  He knows you’re a monster.” 

You shook your head sharply, lifted your eyes back to the Mandalorian’s stupid face. Helmet. Visor. Whatever. “I’m not your bounty but you believed that woman. So say it.”

His confusion was palpable, “Say what?”

You took a step forward and your chest butted up against his, “Say it! Say that I’m a monster. A murderer. I kill everything I come near.” You laughed, coldly, the words coming out with your voice but in your head, they were being repeated in that cruel, silken whisper. “You regret it, don’t you? Throwing away my puck. You wish you’d kept it, then you could get rid of me, be free of what I’ve done, why I’m being hunted.” Those steel bands were still wrapped round you, crushing you, swallowing you whole again. 

Something broke in him, his composure as the anger rose again and he leaned down to you, “Stop.” The command was a growl and he lifted a finger, pointing at you, “You’re a fucking hypocrite.” 

Yes. Yes, fight back, fight me. Tell me what I know I am. 

You raised your eyebrows, smirking at his finger and then back up at him but your expression was bitter, “Am I? Why’s that, Mando?” You tilted your head and practically purred, “Tell me.” 

The tension in the room was tight, the air almost crackling around you with this outburst of emotion, the threads of your entwined lives pulling taut. 

The light bounced off of the plates on his shoulders, betraying his slightly ragged breathing, “You just screamed at me for assuming the worst about you, yet you did just that to me. How can I want to be free of you, when I don’t even know who you are.” He lifted his hands to your shoulders, to try and calm you down, to push you away maybe. 

The smirk began to slip from your face, “Does it matter who I am?”

His grip tightened, “Of course it does. Because you’re not a bad person. Let me help you, please. Just tell me something. Anything.” His voice turned pleading, and he lifted a hand from your shoulder, like he was going to cup your cheek. 

You’re not a bad person.

Fire blazed within you again, protective and destructive. This was too close. He was getting too close. You had to stop it, now. You had to get away. 

You reached up, grabbing his wrist and using the element of surprise to slam him against the wall behind him, pinning his wrist there and then your blade was at his neck, dull light glinting off of it, “Back off. You can’t help me. I’m not some broken doll to add to your ragtag collection.” Your own breathing was ragged, coming in sharp pants as the room started to spin. 

The Mandalorian flinched, like you’d hit a nerve and his free hand moved. Bingo. 

Yes, you thought, almost begged, Punch me. Fight me, please. 

But he didn’t. He just curled his fingers around your wrist and pushed you away, dislodging your knife and knocking you back a few steps. Like you were weak.

You couldn’t do this, he was starting to slip through the cracks that were forming in you. He was looking at you, seeing you. He always had, from the moment you were nothing but hunter and prey, he knew exactly how to get through your intricately woven net of silver-tongued quips and cocky arrogance. 

No. 

Your voice cracked, echoes of the dark beast’s laughter in your ears “No! Stop pushing me away, stop taking it. Fight me!!” You surged for him again, your hands curling into fists, slamming against the beskar plates again and again. 

You didn’t care that it hurt, that it made pain explode across your knuckles. 

You liked it, you liked the pain. Deserved that and so much more. 

And the Mandalorian… just stood there. He shook his head, just slightly, “No.” He stood there as you hammered your fists against his chest, even when you started to kick him. Just watched as your eyes became glassier, your punches harder but less accurate. 

Why wasn’t he fighting you? 

Your hazy mind began to overwork, searching for something, anything to provoke him, “Why? You don’t want to fight a girl? Too proud are you?” You slammed your knee into his, pulled at the armour plates, honed your pain and fury into him but he just absorbed it. “You’re as weak as I am, you’re running too. You’re the hypocrite, Mandalorian, not me.” Your words were stilted, made no sense as you spat out words as cruel as you could, just needing to provoke him. 

Nothing did. Nothing. There was no noise in the cargo hold but the sounds of the people outside, beeping, the dull thud of your fists, your spiteful words and your own ragged breathing. 

And the whispering in your head that had turned into a full-on symphony of bitter taunts and sniping truths. It rose with memories, flashes of your dead parents, the battered bodies of those that had tried to help you, people who had been caught in the cross-hairs of your life. Innocent people that had turned into nothing more than collateral damage. 

Blood had started to smear on the beskar, your knuckles splitting open with the repeated impact. You could hear Duru meowing, Grogu gurgling in worry but you didn’t care. 

The beast and its army rose, tasting the scent of blood and bringing you visions of the future, of the Mandalorian, dead on the ground. The blood from your fists turned into his own, painting the ground red. Duru, fur soaked in scarlet and Grogu, his tiny little body broken on the floor in a pool. 

And above them, you stood, soaked in the blood of these three. Relishing in the pain and torture that you had caused. You could taste their blood. 

The room began to spin further, the whispering detonated into a roar and it unleashed a heavy roiling cloud within you. It choked you, squeezed fists around your lungs, clouded your eyes and snuck into your head. It whispered to you, such cruel taunts, sucking out the deepest, most vile thoughts you had about yourself and spat them back out, combined with these visions of the future. It leeched the energy out of you and with a choked sob, your knees gave way. 

Duru let out a yowl of concern, springing off of the cargo box. 

I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be confident, or strong. I can’t be brave and cocky, I can’t keep throwing myself into every fight, I can’t run anymore. I can’t do this. I can’t-

And then a pair arms caught you. 

Mando caught you. He didn’t haul you up against him. He didn’t try and pull you up. 

No, he sunk to the floor with you, supporting your weight in his own body, leaning against the wall and letting you collapse against him. 

You froze, your body stiffened as he did. This… people didn’t touch you like this. They didn’t put their arms around you unless they were trying to drag you somewhere. 

You hadn’t been hugged since you were a child, and yet here you were. The Mandalorian was holding you, but loosely. 

Waiting, for your consent. For you to be okay with this. 

And as his gloved hand brushed your back, such a tender warmth broke through you, caressed your pain and you couldn’t resist. You sunk into him, the last saps of energy leaving you as tears flooded your cheeks. The armour was hard, digging into you a little bit, but the feeling of just being held was more than enough. 

He wrapped his arms around you, coaxing you against his chest. His legs were either side of you, one stretched out on the floor and the other resting up to support your back. Distantly, you were aware of four clawed feet padding over your lap, Duru settling into the space between you and Mando’s arm. 

The armour disguised the frantic beating of his heart, your tears and shaking of your body held the trembling of his own hands, but he didn’t mention it. Didn’t mention the fact that this was the first time he had held someone like this that wasn’t the kid… since he was a child himself. He was just as starved of touch as you, even more so because he had no skin-to-skin contact either. He could feel your warmth through the fabric of his clothes that weren’t covered, could feel the weight of you leaning into him. 

He didn’t speak, just held you in the dimness of the cargo hold, keeping you together as you fell apart, kept the promise of death away, just as you had done for him. 

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[northlight14]

Starry nights and heavy guitars

Summary: Logan gets dragged out to a late night drive by his boyfriends.

Tw: cursing, let me know if I need to add anything else

Ships: analodemus (logan X all the dark sides)

Genre: collage au

Alt prompt 1: music/dance/art (prompt by @pridewrite2021)

Logan was hunched over his desk, re-reading the same line from his text book over and over. The information just didn't seem to want to stick. He glanced over at his clock. 12:08 am. Yeah, he'd definitely done enough studying for one night. Just as he went to pack his stuff away, as if on que, the very loud sound of a car horn made him jump out of his seat. He held a hand to his heart as he tried to catch his breath, rolling his eyes when the deafening sound continued, slowly giving him a headache.

He rose from his chair and drew his curtains, ready to scream at whatever moron is making that god awful noise so late at night, only to stop just before he could speak.

"Hey Logan!" Remus called from his shitty truck, immediately stopping the honking. Their other boyfriends, Janus and Virgil stood outside the truck, just by the door sipping on what looked like energy drinks.

"Sorry Logan, we tried to call you first but you wouldn't pick up." Virgil called.

"Yeah I turned my phone off because I was revising. Wait-why didn't you just knock on my door?!" The awkward glances the 3 men exchanged told Logan that they hadn't even considered that an option. Logan loved his boyfriends but God could they be idiots some times.

"Hang on, I'm coming down!" Logan called before pulling on his NASA hoodie and running down the stairs of his apartment, meeting the three outside.

“What are you all doing here?” He asked. “Do you know how late it is?”

“Says the man who was apparently still up studying.” Janus said, eyebrow raised and arms crossed. “What have I told you about taking care of yourself?”

“Yes, yes, I know. I just lost track of time. Anyway, that doesn’t answer my question.” Logan said, folding his arms, mirroring Janus.

“Remus is on an energy high so we ended up getting dragged into it.” Virgil said, taking a sip of his energy drink and slouching against the car.

“Come on Logan!” Remus said, shaking the door of the truck. “I wanna drive out into the middle of nowhere and blast music way to loud and it isn’t as fun without you!”

“As tempting as that sounds.” Logan said, sarcastically. “I have exams I need to prepare for.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to take a break for a while.” Janus said. “Just 5 minutes of fun. That’s all we’re asking for here.”

Logan glanced between his boyfriends, Remus giving him his best puppy dog eyes and Janus and Virgil looking hopeful. He sighed heavily. There was no use arguing this. “Alright, fine.” He said, rolling his eyes.

“Yay!” Remus cheered, clapping his hands like a performing seal. Virgil grabbed Logan and dragged him into the back of the truck, sitting next to him. Janus shoved Remus out of the drivers seat, all of them having agreed a long time ago that Remus shouldn’t be allowed behind a wheel.

As they stared to drive Remus tossed Logan another energy drink. He stared at the drink for a moment before eyeing his boyfriend suspiciously.

“Relax, we payed for them.” Janus chuckled.

“Only because I made you pay for them!” Virgil said, tone teasing.

“I have no idea what you mean.” Janus said, mock offended. “I am a perfectly honourable, law abiding member of society.” He drawled. Virgil couldn’t help but smirk.

“You’re such a spoil sport, Virgie.” Remus said, tone teasing, before beginning to play with the radio.

“Well excuse me if I don’t want us to get arrested!”

“You don’t get arrested if you do it right.” Janus commented. Logan couldn’t help but smile to himself and took a sip of the drink. He could tell already it was going to be a long night, it was probably a good idea to give himself an energy boost.

Remus continued to press random buttons on the radio until the truck was flooded with the sound of heavy guitars and someone screaming into the mic. It wasn’t a song Logan personally recognised, Remus definitely did.

“I love this song!” Remus yelled, turning up the music so loud Logan thought he might go deaf. Remus rolled down his window and stuck his head out, the wind making his brown hair impossibly messier. He cheered and sang the lyrics at the top of his lungs. The other three couldn’t help but laugh at his antics, Virgil and Janus joining in singing parts of it.

A few songs like that played, Logan recognising a few of them from his boyfriends playing them in the past. Eventually, Janus drove them into a field with no streetlights anywhere near them. Logan stared out the window, admiring the sky, each star shining so clearly. Despite the loud music, everything felt strangely calm and peaceful.

The truck came to a stop and Remus immediately hopped out, everyone else following after him. He took a swig of what was originally Janus’ drink, climbing onto the top of the truck and yelling:

“I’m never gonna die!” Before they all burst out laughing.

Virgil then plugged in his phone and started to play the playlist he’d made for all of them a while ago, mixing the different genres they all liked. Metal, pop punk, punk rock, rap, indie, and the odd pop song.

As each song played they all badly yelled the lyrics at the top of their lungs, Remus and Janus dragging Virgil into dancing with them. Logan sat on the grass by the truck and admired his boyfriends. They each looked so alive as they danced and sang, seemingly not a care in the world. Remus’ wavy hair flying freely, unkept and unbound like the man himself. Hair Logan had ran his fingers through countless times to either calm him down or when Remus had lay his head on Logan’s lap as they talked about strange science facts. Janus’ eyes reflected the star’s above them all beautifully. Those same eyes that always looked at him with genuine concern when Logan wasn’t taking care of himself and always gave Janus away when he was trying to hide his emotions or get away with something. Virgils pale skin shone like the moonlight. He clearly hadn’t had time to apply his usual eyeshadow before being dragged out by the others, leaving his small freckles along his nose exposed. A feature that Virgil always said he hated but Logan had always adored. Each of the men were so beautiful in such different ways. Logan couldn’t help but melt as he gazed at them.

This liveliness had always been something he’d admired about his boyfriends. Even Virgil, who had struggled with social anxiety for most of his life, seemed to be so free in moments like these. The guitars playing in the background and no one to watch him other than the people he trusted most and the stars above them.

Virgil was finally able to escape the grip of their boyfriends and he took a seat next to Logan, resting his head agains his shoulder.

“Saw you staring, you simp.” Virgil teased. “What are you thinking about?” He asked, huddling into his hoodie and holding onto Logan’s hands for some warmth.

“Oh, nothing.” He sighed, watching as Remus and Janus began to slow dance to a pop rock song that began to play. “Just listening to the music.”

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[her-world-on-fire]

"I promise I won’t let you fall.” {Jason Todd x Reader}

MASTERLIST

REQUEST HERE

Word Count: 3, 304

Hi! I just read "it was all yellow" and just got me hooked to ur tumblr! I'm not sure if the requests are open but if their are could u pls do an angst with fluff ending ab Jason × Reader ft. Drivers license? Thanks for the attention ♡♡

Prompts: 20. “i promise i won’t let you fall.” 101. “leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” 118. “you’re the only person i want to wake up to every morning.”

“JASON DON’T,” I stepped forward and he moved to pick up his bag. The tears that had welled in my eyes now began to fall. He had his back toward me. But the crack in his voice told me everything I needed to know. “I’m fine!” He stopped and turned back to me. “You had 3 broken ribs, a collapsed lung and a concussion.”

“It wasn’t you fault.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

“The heat signatures showed that most of the guards are on the 4th floor.” Dick’s voice sounded in my ear. “You need to get in through the south entrance on my signal. The shipment arrives in 30 minutes.” I looked at Jason, he was beginning to get impatient. He hated sitting around, and he was not one to follow direct orders. He paced back and forth on the rooftop. “We can just take them all on.”

“Let’s just wait for the signal. We don’t know what we’re up against.”

“They’re just low level fucking criminals.”

Another few minutes passed. “Fuck it.” Jason leaped from the roof and onto the next building. “Jason!” He ignored Dick’s voice and broke one of the windows. I followed after him. The sound of gunshots immediately alerted everyone inside the building. Glass from the windows crunched under my boots, and the air was heavy with gunpowder. The sound of a loud crack echoed in the warehouse. I followed the trail of bodies. There were six men on the floor, each clinging to life. I could tell by the way their limps were sprawled, they were in a world of pain. I ran down the hallway and the gunshots resumed.

I reached for the first hired gun I saw and went after him. His gun was pointed directly at Jason. I reached up and knocked it out of his hands. He was caught of guard, I slammed my hand against his throat. He choked and I brought his leg down out from under him. He fell with a loud thump and I slammed my fist into his face enuring he would be asleep.

Now a few of the men turned towards me. I took my staff and two men charged towards me. I rushed forward and hit one on the side of his head, he tumbled and I kicked him in his shin. He cried out in pain and fell to the floor. The other lunged for me and I moved out of the way before he could grab me. I looked over at Jason for a second, he was getting overwhelmed. Quickly I took the mans arm and slammed it against my knee earning a loud pop. I lunged to Jason. One of the men had managed to get his arms around him. Another was beating him. I took my staff and slammed it on his arm. In that moment Jason slammed his head back against the man who had been holding him. Then he kicked him as he fell. The man turned towards me angrily as the blood trickled down his arm. He pulled out his gun, I moved under him and slammed his hand into the wall. The gun fell and I kicked it away. His other hand reached form my hair. I kicked him in the crotch and he groaned.

I slammed my fists against his face. I looked around the room, Jason was gone. I ran out of the room and up the stairs. We were on the 4th floor now. “There’s a truck coming in.”  I reached Jason and helped him clear the room. “There was C-4 in that truck get out now!”

It all happened in a split second. There was a faint beeping noise. I quickly turned to my left. C-4 was placed on the north wall. Jason was standing right by it. He was too distracted to notice. “Look out!” I ran to him as fast as I could and grabbed his collar. I tossed him outside of the room and took the C-4 and threw it to my right.

The walls began to crumble I tried moving out of the way. I had moved out of the room but the floor was falling underneath me. Jason reached out for me but he was half a second too slow. The last thing I remember was the feeling of falling. Jason’s blood curdling scream filled the room.

I was lucky it wasn’t a lot worse. I didn’t blame him. It had been 3 months and he still couldn’t look at me.“I should’ve waited. I should’ve been paying attention. It should have been me.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true! You could’ve died and that would have been on me.” His voice broke. His guilt was eating him alive. If he had just listened, then this would’ve never happened. Dick didn’t let him hear the end of it.

“Let’s just talk about this. Don’t go.” I moved towards him and he stepped back. “I can’t.” The room fell silent. We both looked at each other. My throat was hoarse, I had been trying to get him to stay as soon as he started packing. He didn’t have anything left to say. “I’m sorry.” I rushed forward and embraced him. As gently as he could he put his arms around me. It had been 3 months since he touched me. He was worried he would break me. But I knew this was he way of saying goodbye. “Please.” He pulled back and wiped the tears from my face. His own eyes were bloodshot. He leaned forward and placed a kiss on my forehead.

He pulled away and took his bag and his helmet. He grabbed the door handle and opened the door. He paused before walking out and closing it behind him.

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

Jason practically fell of the grid. No one knew where he went. He was smart, he covered his track electronically. He had slowly been withdrawing his inheritance. Transferring what he could into burner accounts. It was meticulously planned. Another month went by and I went back to train.

It was hard being around the team. For a long time they treated me as if I were glass. I was going to break at a moments notice. I could see the pity in their eyes. I turned to training as an outlet. I focused all of my time and energy into. I didn’t want to be left alone with my thoughts. The memories of Jason and the accident flooded my head. I kept as busy as possible.

Dick had informed he knew where he was. He had found that the crime on the south side had dropped by 5 percent. In his first week down there he acted like himself. He never crossed the line but the scenes were far from innocent. He was acting on his emotions and releasing his anger. But after just a week, he was controlled. The scenes were getting harder to identify. He started to blend in.

Jason’s anger was something like I had never seen before. It was destructive and explosive. He was getting better, but after the accident something changed. He was regressing. Whatever had been holding him together had snapped.

As much as I wanted to, I wasn’t going to go after him. He needed space. As I got inside my car I turned on the radio. I didn’t want to go back to the apartment. It was hard being in that space. I was so used to sharing the space with him. I drove, not looking for anything specific.

And I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me 'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

I sighed, being back at the manor had brought back a lot of feelings. Memories of training. Sneaking around the manor. From the moment we met we were inseparable. At first I was annoyed by his cockiness. But once I took him down during training, he turned it down. Overall he was impressed. That later turned into infatuation. We did everything together.

As I drove through the city all I could think of is all the places we went together. None of them would ever feel the same without him.

And all my friends are tired Of hearing how much I miss you, but I kinda feel sorry for them 'Cause they'll never know you the way that I do, yeah Today I drove through the suburbs And pictured I was driving home to you

I wanted more than anything for it all to be a dream. I wanted to wake up and have everything back to the way it was before. I wouldn’t have let him go inside the building. I would give anything to go back and change it all. I would really be there for Jason.

But I've never felt this way for no one, oh And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay, now that I'm gone I guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me 'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

And I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me 'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

I found myself driving to our usual place. We stumbled inside after patrol, and talked for hours. I looked inside and pictured us sitting there. We were laughing so loud we were drawing attention to ourselves. If anyone ever had a problem with it Jason would laugh even louder. 

If Jason hadn’t left large tips then I’m sure we would have been kicked out. But in his eyes they deserved it. They were hard workers and they were good people. He tried to give back as much as he could because he couldn’t growing up on the streets. He used to go into the back and try and save food from the garbage.He thought about the nice owners who would let him take a few things. Some even offered him some work. He remembered all those faces, and he gave back. That’s the kind of person he was.

Red lights, stop signs I still see your face in the white cars, front yards Can't drive past the places we used to go to 'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe (ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh) Sidewalks we crossed I still hear your voice in the traffic, we're laughing Over all the noise God, I'm so blue, know we're through But I still fuckin' love you, babe (ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh)

It pained me that it was over but he needed this. He was so angry once he came back. Angry at the joker from taking him from Bruce. Angry at Bruce for letting him get away with it. Angry at the world for letting it happen. For as long as he could remember he needed to fight to survive. It was a long road to even get to where he was now. But he knew that he still had a long way to go. And he couldn’t let anyone else get hurt while he figured it out. He had to start piecing himself back together for his sake, and for everyone around him.

I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay, now that I'm gone 'Cause you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me 'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street Yeah, you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

We had problems. We were far from perfect, but I don’t want anything else. I spent the rest of the car ride in silence. I decided to get back to the apartment. I couldn’t hide forever. I needed to start living again. It’s what he wanted.

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

I turned the key and the door clicked in response. I heard shuffling on the other side. Immediately I reached for my staff. I opened the door, the lights were still off. I moved quietly, as I tried to search for the source. Quietly I closed the door, and moved through the apartment. I noticed a card on the coffee table. I heard a creek. I turned down the hall. I waited for a moment and I heard the footsteps approaching me. Right when they were about to round the corner, I pushed them against the wall. Holding them in place with my staff.

I looked up and dropped the staff. “Jason?” He looked shocked, more so than I was. “I had to see you.” I bit my lip. I was feeling overwhelmed. He was the last person I expected. I worked hard to put myself back together and now I was going to have to do it all over again.

“Are you coming back?”

I was getting mixed signals. The card on the table gave me the impression he was leaving again. It was like he intended to just drop it off and leave. But he stayed until I got back. He was tense. His arms were crossed over his chest, overall he looked very closed off. He wasn't giving me an answer.

I broke the silence.

"I can't do that again. You can't leave and come back, and except me to be okay.” I swallowed, trying to keep my tears from spilling. “I begged you to stay and you just left. I haven't heard from you and now you're back and I don't know how much more I can hang on." Once again the tears welled up in my eyes. I was reliving the moment he decided to leave all over again. Deep down I know why he left. He needed to learn to forgive himself. He needed time to work on himself. But it was hard knowing that he could leave at a moments notice. Even though it hurt him he still did it.

"I'm sorry. I had to go, I couldn't look at you without blaming myself. It was selfish of me to leave but I understand that now." He moved forward and took a deep breath. "I promise I won't let you fall."

And he meant it.

His own eyes were cloudy with tears. " I tried to convince myself that you were better off without me. But I can't do this without you. That month I spent alone made me realize how empty I was without you. You're the only person I want to wake up to every morning."

"But if you decide that you don't want me-" I didn't let him finish before I pressed my lips against his. He responded immediately. We pulled away and he ran his thumb across my cheek. I wrapped my arms around him. I could feel him loosen up. He had been so tense, it felt as if he could finally breathe again.

"Come on, I have something to show you." He pulled away and stretched out his hand. I took it and he opened the door and led me out. We walked to his bike and he handed me my helmet. He got on his bike and started the engine. I got on and wrapped my arms around him "Ready?"

I nodded and he took off. The sun was just beginning to set. Although Gotham wasn't the safest city, it was mesmerizing. I leaned my head against Jason and watched the streets. The streets that had seemed somber were now vibrant. Jason stopped at the red light and turned back to me. I gave him a smile.

We went on for another 5 minutes. "Okay close your eyes."

I closed my eyes and we stopped soon after. Jason turned off the bike and helped me off. He gently took of my helmet and took my arm. He guided me, and I heard a door open. We had entered some building.  "Can I open my eyes now?" I asked, growing more curious at time went on. He laughed at my impatience.

"Yes."

I opened my eyes and looked around. It was the Gotham botanical gardens. "This is beautiful." We walked down the pathway and I took in my surroundings. The bright yellow flowers, the beautiful stream leading to the fountain. As I looked around something stuck out to me. There was a lack of people. There must've been one person who opened the door for Jason and I. But I didn't see anyone. "Where is everyone?" I turned to Jason and he smiled. "I may have rented the space for the night."

"Jason this must be a fortune." It was government property, he had to get approval from the mayor himself. "How?"

"Believe it or not but the mayor actually owed me a favor."

We reached the center of the garden. There was a table that had been set up. Jason pulled my chair out for me. Suddenly a workers had appeared. They set the table and the lights were dimmed. As quickly as they appeared they were gone. The table was filled with our favorites. The drinks were from a cafe just near the apartment. The food was from our usual spot after patrols. There were small delicacies from the pastry shop we frequented to satisfy our sweet tooth. "This is really something, Jason. Thank you."

"I'm keeping my promise. Leaving you was the hardest thing I've ever had to do." I won't ever do it again."

We talked as we finished dinner.  It felt like just another day before the accident. After we finished, Jason left a large tip on the table. "I have one more thing to show you."

"Jason you really don't have to do anything else. You've done more than enough." Still, he lead me up the stairs. He opened the door first and let me go up. I walked to the edge of the roof. I looked over the railing. The view was absolutely breath taking. It wasn't like any other rooftop in Gotham. It was quiet up here. The sounds of the city didn't touch this roof.

The wind had picked up, and since the sun had set it was colder than inside. Noticing this Jason put his jacket over my shoulders. He stood behind me and I leaned my head against his shoulder. "I didn't know views like this existed in Gotham."

We just stood admiring the city. Neither of us spoke as we looked at the beautiful sight. We both knew that everything was going to be alright. We were going to come back from everything. This is what it was supposed to feel like.

"Are you ready to go back?" He asked and I nodded. "Just one more thing." I leaned forward and kissed him. This one was soft. He smiled into the kiss. "We've got some catching up to do." He mumbled against my lips. "The night's not over yet."

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[atinydise]

Ateez reacting to their s/o asking their a tricky question

❦ Genre: Fluff.

❦ Pairing: OT8.

❦ Word count: 2k7.

❦ A/N: Pretty short writing, but I’ve been inspired for this today so here it is! Hope you will like it! 🤍 Stay all healthy! 🦋

HONGJOONG: “If you needed to choose between your career or me? What would you choose?”

“What about this?” Asked Hongjoong, trying to find the right beat for the song’s instrumental. “It sounds like the previous one.” You replied lazily, sitting on the couch. “But it fits the whole thing well.” “I’m not sure... I’m not really convinced by it.” “You are so dedicated to your productions. It makes me feel a little bit jealous sometimes.” You claimed, eyes still glued on your phone. “Come on I grant you more time nowadays.” You raised a brow and stared at your boyfriend’s back. “If you mean these 5 more minutes… than spoiler... it’s not enough for the clingy girl that I am.” “Okay I got it.” He giggled. “Give me 15 minutes and I’ll stop for the rest of the day. Deal?” “Okay deal.” You replied satisfied.

You both focused back on your screen, even if yours was an Instagram feed. When suddenly a question popped in your mind. “Joongie?” You called him nicely. “Hum? What is it girl? I’m almost done.” “I have a question.” “Tell me.” He said without looking at you. “If you needed to choose between your career or me? What would you choose?” Hongjoong went tense right before you finished to talk. The boys told him that he should have been ready for this type of questions, but he never thought you would ask one for real. He stared right at his computer screen in front of him. He needed to answer quickly because you might start to get mad. “Huh... well...” he coughed. “That’s a simple question of course.” “Really? Then what would you choose?” You insisted. “Since you are my muse, I can’t write music or produce any beat. So, I need you.” He replied taking care at each word which was coming out of his mouth. “Oh. Cute. Thank you.” You said before taking back your attention on your phone. Hongjoong couldn’t believe it. All this panic just for a “cute” and “thank you”? “Women...” he whispered before playing again with his production.

SEONGHWA: “Why did you choose me over your ex?”

“You are so focused on your ‘cleaning things’.” You stated from the bed. “Cleaning things?” He repeated. “It’s a healing time for me Y/N.” “And that’s make you even more weird.” You teased him. “Then maybe, the weirdo that I am shouldn’t clean your apartment again.” He winked, starting to remove his plastic gloves. “Wow wow wow! I was kidding!” You stopped him. Seonghwa smirked, he knew you would change your mind. “Jeez... I really need to teach you offbeat humor.” “Help me instead.” He suggested even though he knew you wouldn’t do it. “Nevermind, you are so funny!” You slipped under the sheets. Seonghwa went back to his cleaning session. For sure his favorite think was to clean a Sunday morning with your being around. It was a peaceful atmosphere.

“Babe?” You asked shyly, just showing the half of your face. “Yes. Have you changed your mind?” He smiled. “Actually no. It’s just that I’m curious about one thing?” You said more seriously. “What is it?” He focused on you. “Why did you choose me over your ex?” Seonghwa’s brain went from relaxation to the warning mode. He stared at the sponge in his hand, not daring to make an eye-contact with you. “I know, it’s unexpected but my brain really wants to know how someone like me could interest someone like you.” “W-well.” He stuttered. “In fact, it should be the opposite.” Not understanding what he meant, you furrowed your eyebrows. Just this expression sent him in a panic mode. “I mean... I’m the luckiest one between both of us. There are not many girls who would stay with me because of my busy schedule. Like when I can’t hang out with you for several months or even miss our anniversary date. So… thank you for being this comprehensive and kind.” He smiled. “And my ex was a big mistake. I don’t even consider her as an ex-girlfriend. So, no matter what, it will forever be you over everything else in this world.” He finished. When he finally looked at you, he only spotted your teary eyes. “Are you crying?” He smiled. “No... I have a dust in my eye.” You lied. “Yes sure. Both eyes?” “Just clean the room better than this. So many dusts.” You said before bidding once again under the bed. “I guess my answer wasn’t that bad.” He congratulated himself.

YUNHO: “Why did you choose me over your ex?”

A little walk outside with your boyfriend was the thing you needed the most right now. Yunho’s week has been stressful and your boss seemed like a tyrant today. Both of you needed to escape in your own little world otherwise you would end crazy. “You are not cold Y/N?” Made sure your boyfriend. You pouted when you beard him using your name. “I had a terrible day, and you call me ‘Y/N’?” Yunho giggled at your face expression. “Sorry. You are not cold... my love?” A smile immediately appeared on your face. “No, thank you Yunho.” “Hey!” He laughed. “Don’t call me Yunho when I gave you little cute names.” “That’s what you deserve.” “Even though that’s unfair… that’s one reason of why I love you.” Happily, you wrapped your arms around his. A little bit snuggling next to him. “By the way...” you started. “How do you know I was ‘the one’?” Yunho almost tripped on his foot. “Ohw! Take care idiot!” You helped him to gain his weight back. He giggled embarrassedly, secretly hoping that you talk about something else. “So? How did you know it?” You asked once again.

Mission failed.

“P-probably like you. When you knew that I was one.” He tried to reverse the situation. “Well for me I had this feeling! It’s like my brain knew it before my heart.” “Yes!” He snapped. “It’s exactly the same for me.” “Oh really?” You smiled. Yunho nodded, not wanting to dive more in this conversation. “Did you have this urge craving for food and for love too?” You asked. “Sure!” He lied again. “So… this is destiny.” You claimed, tugging on his arm. “Exactly.” He concluded. “Destiny that I met a liar like you.” “Completely!” Then he realized. “Hold up? A liar?” You only tossed him with a single stare and continued to walk by your own. “Y/N! No- Babe! Wait for me!” He ran after you before wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You wouldn’t stay mad for long.

YEOSANG: “Would you still love me if I was different?”

“For God’s Sake Y/N, please pick a dress.” “Yeosang, this is an important event I can’t wear something picked in 2 seconds.” “You are just going to meet my friends... they won’t even look at your outfit.” “Then should I go there naked?” You asked sarcastically. Yeosang stared at you for 5 longs seconds before turning back to fix his shirt in the mirror. “Pick one instead of saying non-sense.” “The red one is cute but maybe a little bit too sexy for a casual meeting.” “Then pick the blue one.” He sighed. “But the blue one might be a little bit too casual.” You said. “Oh gosh Y/N.” “Oh, come on! It’s easy for you! You look good in everything, even a trash bag.” You claimed jealously. Before you finish mad (more than right now), Yeosang gave up. “Wear what you want then.” He said before plopping down on the bed.

You felt a bit bad and mad for being insecure and taking so long just to pick an outfit. “Would you still love me if I was different?” You asked, grabbing the blue dress. “Hell no.” He instantly replied. “No?!” You turned back. “I mean yes!” He sat correctly with a big smile. “You are a bad liar Yeosang.” Your boyfriend bit his lip, trying to rectify his mistake. “I meant that I fell in love with you for who you are right now. If you were a little bit more different, it wouldn’t be ‘you’ anymore.” You tilted your head, “but why if I was just a little bit more confident or stuff like that?” “It wouldn’t be you.” He replied. “When we met, I loved the insecure side that you had because I was in the same mind.” “So… we are kind of working on this… together?” Yeosang nodded, agreeing with you. “Well...” you looked at your reflection in the mirror. “It’s going to be the blue one.” “Hallelujah.” Claimed your boyfriend.

SAN: “Why do you love me?”

“It’s Y/N turn!” Claimed Wooyoung next to you. “Again?” You grunted. “Truth or dare young lady?” Asked Yunho. “Truth.” “Come on you are not funny.” Pouted San. “Y’all crazy! If I choose dare and you are going to ask me to run naked in the street.” “She’s not wrong.” Admitted Wooyoung picking a candy. “So, truth.” “Okay then... of what or how women think?” You scoffed, “that’s a girl secret.” “Then do we need to give her a pledge?” Asked Mingi. “No no no okay.” You changed your mind. “So?” “We think exactly like you. Not always these girlies stereotypes, like shopping and nails.” You explained. “Food?” “Yes, we think about food a lot. Even too much.” “And sex?” Asked San. “Of course! We have our moments too.” You admitted. “Okay next.” Said Seonghwa changing right away the conversation. “San?” “Truth.” “And I’m no fun Huh?” San was making an excuse while you were hardly thinking about a though question. What could make San flustered or embarrassed? “Okay!” You smiled enthusiastically. “Why-” you paused. “Do you love me?” All the boys around whistled while poking San’s body to tease him. “W-what kind of question is that?” He stuttered.

Mission accomplished for you. 1-0 for you.

“Answer it or you are going to have a pledge.” Smirked Wooyoung. San was sweating. This question was hard to answer because he knows you would end being mad, no matter what. There was no escape, and his teammate were not being helpful at all. “So?” Repeated Seonghwa, enjoying the situation too. “I-I-” he started stuttering a bit, ignoring what to do or where to start. You loved to see him this way. You were really appreciating every second of it. “Pledge.” He finally said. For sure, you would be mad, but it was the only solution he had right now. “Okay then tell us why you love Y/N. 3 things.” “I hate all of you.”

MINGI: “When do you think we will get married Mingi?”

“Hello lovebirds.” Greeted Yunho before plopping down on the sofa. “Hello!” You replied back. “How was your day?” “Nobody ever told me how acting was tiring.” He yawned. “More tiring than practicing all day?” Asked your boyfriend, head resting on your laps. “Hum... no but still. There’s so many scripts to remember, so many facial expression...” he enumerated. “Come on... I’m pretty sure you are enjoying it.” You claimed. “I do. It’s just exhausting for a beginner, at least.”

You smiled at Yunho, he had so much acting opportunities these times. People started to see him as a talented young boy and not only as a Kpop idol. “And you lovebirds? How was your day?” He asked politely. “Pretty good we went to my friend’s wedding ceremony. It was pretty cool.” He replied. “Oh yeah, true.” He smiled the tall guy. “And how did you find it Mingi.” “Less bad than I expected.” He replied still staring at the TV. “He loved the buffet too.” You giggled. “Wedding’s food is the B.E.S.T!” Admitted Yunho. “I’m more impatient for the food that he ceremony itself.” “So true!” You clapped. “Don’t worry we will prepare a good one for our wedding.” Yunho and Mingi exchanged a quick glance. “When do you think we will get married Mingi?” Your boyfriend gave his friend a quick stare saying “save me” or “say something” but Yunho was clearly enjoying the situation. “Mingi?” “We are a bit too young no? I- I mean in maybe 3 years okay b-but now... it’s-” Mingi looked at every expression on your face and right now, you were completely in the incomprehension one. “Okay it’s late! Let’s go to sleep!” He changed the conversation. Your boyfriend rushed to turn the off the TV and run to his bedroom. “Did he-” you paused. “Run away? Totally.” Finished Yunho.

WOOYOUNG: “What do you love about me?”

“Do you know what you are going to eat?” Asked your boyfriend, putting down the menu. “Everything here looks so tasty.” You whined. “Take everything you want babe.” Smiled Wooyoung. “Do you want me to spend all of your money?” “Why not.” He smiled. “Okay Sir.” You stuck your tongue out at him. Finally, after taking a year to order your food, you finally chose your favorite Korean meal. When the waiter left, you focused back on your boyfriend. “So why did you choose this restaurant for the Valentine’s Day?” “Because you are not really into the fancy restaurants?” “True.” You smiled. “You know me so well.” “After 2 years of dating. I better know you correctly.” He held your hand on the table. “Already 2 years wow.” You stared at your intertwined fingers. “Time goes fast huh?” “Really fast.” He smirked at you.

“By the way, I never really asked this but, what do you love about me?” Wooyoung blinked dumbly. It’s like the left part of his brain already had the answer, while the right side was aware of the tension this question could bring. “What do I love?” He repeated, hoping you changed your mind. “Yeah.” You confirmed. “Well- Haha…-” he grunted. “There’s so many things you know.” “Like what?” You insisted wanting more details. “Like what?” He repeated again. “Well, you know! Your personality, ‘youreverythingbodyeyesandstufflikethis’.” He muttered, trying to talk quickly so you couldn’t understand. “My what?” Wooyoung stared at his phone next to his arm, thinking about a way to escape this situation. He removed his grip off your hand and grabbed his phone. “여보세요*?” “Your phone didn’t ring. At all.” You crossed your arms around on your chest. “Ah Yunho! Is it urgent because I’m with Y/N right now?” “Wooyoung.” You called him. “Sorry I will need to take this call outside.” Lied your boyfriend, standing up before leaving the restaurant. “Wait for me here!” “You are the biggest coward ever,” you yelled before he could exit.

*여보세요/Yeoboseyo: hi/allo in korean.

JONGHO: “When are you going to introduce me to your parents?”

“Y/N would never ask these types of questions.” Sighed Jongho. “Never?” Repeated Hongjoong. “You are ignoring a lot of things about girls.” “Please, the vision you have about girls is so cliché.” “He’s still naive and innocent. Let him see the real side of Y/N, by himself.” Suggested Yeosang. “I know Y/N well.” He rolled his eyes. All the boys were gathered around a good diner in the new kitchen at the dorm. The casual conversation they had at the beginning, ended in an interview of Jongho, to learn a little bit more about you. All the eldest boys acted like they were dating experts, but only few of them have been in a relationship before. “Stop making assumptions about Y/N, she’s not like the other girls.” Just when he finished to talk, his phone buzzed on the table. “Oh Y/N!” Said Mingi pointing the phone. “She probably felt that we were talking about her.” “Pick up and put the speaker so we could see if she’s asking you these types of questions.” Challenged Seonghwa. “Good. I will prove you she’s totally cool.”

Completely sure of him, Jongho executed what his Hyung suggested. “Hello babe,” you greeted him. “Hello love, are you okay?” Asked Jongho, eating his hamburger at the same time. “Pretty good. Hyebin just left so I’m all alone.” “Do you want me to come a bit later?” “Yes, sure why not!” You accepted. “But actually... I have a question.” All the members smirked at the maknae. “It’s starting to be interesting.” Whispered Hongjoong. “What is it love?” Gulped Jongho. “Hyebin told me how she introduced her girlfriend to her parents and then... I was curious to know… when are you going to introduce me to your parents?” Jongho’s face decomposed while the entire team were high fiving each other. “Okay maybe it’s too early. No pressure but I was just wondering.” You reassured him. “I call you back, there’s a fire in the dorm.” Lied Jongho. “Huh wait for re-?” When he hung up, he felt seven stares on him. “I don’t want to hear anything from one of you.” He threatened them. “It was just a random question okay? She’s different.” “Yes sure, if you say, fireman.” Said San, patting his back.

[sehoenghwa]

cake [c.s] [final part]

concept: Choi San x gender neutral reader (ft. Park Seonghwa) warnings ⚠: smut, angst, choking, shitty behaviour

[Part 1]

A/N: aaaa it’s finally done!! I really like the endinggg I hope you enjoy part 2!! I’m sorry if I ever mention a gender on the reader, sometimes I get distracted but please let me know!! All criticism is appreciated :D

 You thanked all of the gods in existance for the fact that the academic year would be over in a couple of days. You decided that missing them wouldn't be of much importance, since you couldn't bear the embsfassment. You didn't want to face San, and you weren't sure you could face anyone at all. You felt like everyone knew about what had happened, and like everyone was silently judging you for falling right onto his trap. You needed time away from everyone in that place, as everyone reminded you of him.

  You spent days crying onto your pillow, because the unbearable heartbreak and weird sense of betrayal you couldn't help but to feel.

   It had been about two weeks into summer vacation when you decided to pick yourself up from bed. You looked at yourself in the mirror: bloated face, massive eye bags, hair severely overgrown and your body looked unhealthy. Your heart broke at the sight, and you cursed yourself for getting to this point because of a man.

   You decided that, from that point on, you'd get better. You'd treat yourself, and become someone new. But it's easier said than done of course... You sort of did that. At least you were happier...

    When you finally emerged from the comfort of your bed you fixed yourself the best you could and made way towards the nearest non-suspicious looking bar. It was a nice medium-sized bar, that looked like it was straight from a gossip girl set. It was only 5pm, but as soon as you closed the door behind you, it felt like it was 1am. The music wasn't loud nor quiet, the decoration wasn't exaggerated, and the purple and pink neon lights lit up the bar nicely.

  Despite not having any windows, the smell of smoke wasn't unbearable like most bars, it was almost as if it was just setting the ambient.

   You sat at the bar and order a 'whatever you recommend here'. You actually had about 4 of those. You felt surprisingly well, that is, until you stood up to go to the bathroom. Your legs were wobbly and suddenly the room was spinning. Somehow you made it to the bathroom and came back, to find that your seat was taken. Yes, there were about 5 other seats, but slightly drunk you had decided that that was your seat. How dare guy-who-looked-handsome-from-the-back tke it from you?

   You tapped his shoulder, a little too harshly but you couldn't control it really. The male turned around and you gasped loudly. He raised an eyebrow at your extreme reaction, but again, your emotions, actions and reactions were highly enhanced with the help of alcohol.

   You recognized those deep dark eyes and eye-catching lips anywhere.

    Seonghwa. He was one of San's 'og' friends. You saw him in San's ig pictures from years ago, and you'd never seen one without the other walking around the halls.

    'Y/N?'

    You could feel your face get hotter, out of anger. You turned around and wobbled towards the door, but Seonghwa was faster. He grabbed your wrist.

    'Y/N, are you drunk? It's 7pm what are you doing here?'

    You turned to face him and placed your index finger on his chest, pushing him back.

    'None of your business. Don't talk to me.'

   Seonghwa was smart, it didn't take him long to understand your behaviour. His grip on your wrist was steady and he didn't let you go.

    'You know I'm not him, right? I didn't do it, and I would never do something like that.' He told you.

   Tears immediately brimmed in your eyes and your furrowed your eyebrows angrily.

    'So you know about it.'

    Seonghwa sighed and nodded.

    'He tells me about every single one...'

    You fought his grip and ran outside, the best you could. Seonghwa followed you, not wanting to leave you alone, drunk and wobbling in the streets that had already gotten dark.

     'Y/N please, I'm sorry he did that to you. I had no idea.' He tried to excuse himself.

     'But you're still friends with him!' You yelled, earning a couple of looks from people passing by.

     'I can't just drop him Y/N! I've been his friend since we were kids. I hate that he does this, and I hate that I'm associated with it even more. You don't see it, but I see the dirty looks I get from every girl he fucked and trashed away because they think I'm just like him.'

   'Oh boo hoo poor you!' You mocked.

   He placed his hands on his hips and sighed.

   'Do you live nearby?' He asked.

   'Why? So you can fuck me and dump me too?' You mocked.

   'Because I'm driving you home before some idiot on the street picks you up and convinces you to fuck him.'

   You felt a little shy for assuming anything about him when he meant to do something good. You just nodded and told him your address as you walked to his car. The drive was silent, the only sound being his finger tapping on the wheel.

   Once he pulled up in your driveway, he turned off the engine and sighed.

    'Y/N I'm genuinely worried for you. I'm not San, okay? He texted me after you left his house, and told me what happened. The days after he does that we usually get some nasty comments from whoever he fucks. I looked for you, I expected to see you breaking a couple pencils imagining it was his dick or shooting him death glares, but you didn't come to class. Neither did you the next day. And it's two weeks into summer vacation and I find you, completely different, getting drunk in a bar at 5pm. I don't want you to waste one of the best years in your life because of my friend. I don't know how he gets away with that façade, I guess no one believes that he's actually kind of an ass...'

   You listened to him carefully. He sounded genuinely concerned, and you were touched by his words for a second.

   'The deed is done.' You told him, coldly.

   He sighed, a little sad at your disbelief in him.

   'Let me give you my number. Text me if it gets to your head again, please.'

   The next day, when you woke up, you felt a little embarrassed at the way you spoke to him. A couple days went by but you never texted him, your pride wouldn't let you. But you couldn't stop thinking about him. How sweet he had been to you even though he didn't know you at all. How genuine he seemed...

    Still, you didn't text him. You got in some nice clothes, fixed the hair you still hadn't bother to get an appointment for, and went to the same bar you had seen him the other day. Except at a decent hour this time.

   As soon as you walked in you spotted him. He was very hard to miss, as he always seemed to be the best mannered and best composed person in the room.

  'Drink alone often?'   He turned around, a little surprised to hear your voice again. Seonghwa smirked.

  'Didn't think I'd see you again so soon.' He told you, setting down his drink.

  You said nothing. Your ego stopped you from doing so, you'd never admit you felt bad for being so cold to him.

  There wasn't much of a conversation between the two of you, only some small talk accompanied by one too many drinks.

   You only realized how late it was when the music became louder and the dance floor started becoming full of drunk men and women. The bar around you was spinning a little, but not enough that you couldn’t grab Seonghwa’s hand and pull him to dance with you.

   ‘Who knew you could act normal for once instead of stone cold?’ 

   You slapped his chest as you drunk-danced to a random trap song. 

   ‘I’m not stone cold, I just wanted to make sure you weren’t like your dear friend.’ You explained, looking at him as if you meant an offense.

    Seonghwa rolled his eyes and pulled close so you could see well his eyes under the flashing lights. He was dead serious. 

    ‘Y/N, please stop. I’m not like him. I told this over and over, I hate what he does, so please stop comparing me to San.’ 

    You looked at him for a second, not knowing what to do, or say. Up until this point you were the harsh one, but now his calm, soft side had turned into a serious person that you had never seen before.

    As you thought about what he said, you gulped, rummaging through your brain, trying to find an adequate response. 

    ‘Then help me take him down.’

    Seonghwa tilted his head and frowned, not quite understanding what you meant.

    ‘If you hate it so much, help me do something about it. No one deserves to be treated that way and I want to make sure no other girl gets fooled by him.’ 

    The male was a little mervous about it. A frienship with San was something he had known his whole life. Hell, he had a key to San’s house, he was on a first name basis with San’s parents... The male gulped and sighed.

    He grabbed your wrist and took you outside, so you could speak properly without the banging sound of the music interrupting you.

   ‘Y/N you know I can’t do that, he’s my-’

    ‘Your friend? Is he though? Is he the person you became friends with? If a narcissistic asshole who lures in girls with a fake persona just to fuck them and trash them the second after came up to you and asked you to be ‘best friends’ would you happily take it?’ You interrupted him. 

    Seonghwa’s head was confused. It was torn between the comfort of a life-long friendship and what was morally correct. His head was trying to separate all the events, all the good memories and fun times, from the things that he didn’t like. And after a short minute, he came to a conclusion: you were right. All of the rainbows and flowers were buried in the past, all of the laughs and giggles he could remember was from little San, that went to church every Sunday and refused to kill any backyard bug because ‘bugs are friends’. Not new San. Not bubblegum-haired San that got Seonghwa in trouble over and over, not San that had Seonghwa pick him up from random girls’ houses at 2am because ‘he didn’t want to be in the same room as them after he fucked them’. Current San wasn’t Seonghwa’s friend.

   ‘Fine, I’ll help you. But how?’ He finally replied, earning a wide grin from you.

   You didn’t exactly know how tho... You only knew that you wanted- no, you needed revenge. You thought for a while, before something came to mind. 

   ‘Like this!’ 

   You grabbed Seonghwa’s face and kissed his lips, for a brief second. When you pulled away his face was red and his eyeballs looked like they were going to pop out of the socket at any second.

   ‘By kissing me!? I’m not complaining Y/N but, what?’

   ‘No dumb dumb, pretend we’re dating. It’ll make him uncomfortable. At least enough until he throws a fit and I get a confession out of him. Plus, if I’m close to his best friend it adds credibility when I say that he’s an ass, and people won’t just take me for ‘another crazy bitch who was rejected by San’.’

   Seonghwa just shrugged.

   ‘Fine by me, I don’t care.’

   After saying that, Seonghwa grabbed your waist and pulled you close, close enough so he could close the gap between your lips, just for a second longer than you had before. 

   ‘What was that for?’ You asked, a little shocked, once you two pulled away.

   ‘Would you believe my excuse if I told you it’s to make it seem more realistic and not because you look very fuckable right now?’ Whether it was the alcohol or a hidden desire speaking, he meant it.

   You just laughed him off, thinking it was a joke. Quickly you understood it wasn’t, by taking a look at the way his eyes became even darker and the way he bit his lower lip.

  You didn’t hesitate when Seonghwa gently grabbed your hair and intertwined your fingers with his, as he dragged you along to his flat.

 As soon as you stepped inside, the male shut the door and pressed you against it, taking a second to appreciate the way you looked under the dim lights. Seonghwa crashed his lips against yours and began undressing you in his living room, too needy to even let you get to his bedroom. 

   Unlike San, Seonghwa was gentle with his touch. It was a nice mix of romantic and passionate. He removed your clothes as his lips moved down your neck, leving very light bites so it wouldn’t be shamelessly marked on your neck. As soon as he got to your chest, however, you could tell the purple spots would be lasting for weeks. 

   You undressed him just as quickly as he undressed you, and it was truly mesmerizing what clothes could hide. Seonghwa’s body was just perfectly: fit, but not in excess. Broad shoulders, thick thighs and toned torso, that you kept on admiring as he picked you up and laid you on the couch slowly. 

   Seonghwa’s tip grazed over your entrance and you moaned into the kiss.

   ‘O-oh wait!’ He said, and stood up, leaving you confused as he stepped away.

   He soon came back with a little bottle of lube, causing you both to flush.

   ‘I didn’t... want it to hurt?’

   You smiled a little, and watched as the light from the moon shined and reflected on his slightly sweaty body.

    Seonghwa aligned his tip by your entrance once more, and hovered over you, allowing you to encircle his neck with your arms.

   He filled you up, slowly. You bit down on his shoulder causing him to groan. He started slow, but you could see he wanted to do more.

   ‘D-do it.’

   ‘What?’ He asked.

   ‘Don’t hold back, please.’

   Seonghwa stopped for a second and looked at you.

   ‘I don’t want to hurt you...’

   ‘You won’t.’

   The male licked his lips and kissed your temple.

   ‘Fine by me.’

   Seonghwa grabbed waist, snapping his hips rapidly against yours, causing you to grip onto the couch for dear life. He reached for your neck, encircling it with his hand in a way that you didn’t even know you liked.

   There were so many groans and moans and noises echoing around the room, and you couldn’t even hear them. You were too focused on the way he fucked you.

   ‘You like that? Like when I fuck your pretty little head dumb?’

   ‘S-shit! Yes!’

   Soon enough you came, but he kept thrusting into you. The overstimulation was painful, yet pleasurable. 

   ‘Can y-you take it babydoll?’ 

   ‘Fuck- yes! Seonghwa!’ 

   You came once more, with a yell for his name, and almost immediately he pulled out and came all over your torso. 

    He looked down at the mess he made. 

   ‘Oh... Sorry about that. You look good though.’

   You collected some of the cum on your finger, put it in your mouth, and winked at him.

   ‘Fuck... You’re golden.’

  Weeks went by and the changes were slow. You wanted it to look natural. It started with a couple of selfies the two of you posted when you met from time to time, then the dates became more frequent, and more public, and then you became his lockscreen photo. Soon enough, academic year began once more, and you agreed to walk into the building holding hands, as if you truly were in love. It shocked everybody, even San. They all had seen you two, but people just assumed that it was a summer fling, not a serious thing.

   San wouldn’t deny that it bothered him, because it did. Very much actually. It made him uncomfortable that he treated you like that, because to him you were nothing, and now you were hanging out with his best friend all the time, which meant you were hanging out with him. And you didn’t even look bothered, at all.

   The day came when you and Seonghwa first kissed in front of everybody, it was about a week into it, and that’s when San lost it. You were sitting with Seonghwa, San and a couple other guys that often hung out with them in the cafeteria. San was desperately trying not to look at the two of you. How did this even happen? Seonghwa did tell him he was seeing somebody but... You? He usually never looked at any other person he fucked again and now not only did he have to look at you, but he also had to hang out with you. 

   You were sitting so close to your ‘boyfriend’ that you were nearly on his lap. Your head was resting on his shoulder as he caressed your thigh. Seonghwa said something funny, and as both of you laughed you looked at each other. Your lips were awfully close, and as you stared into each other’s eyes you couldn’t help but share a brief, innocent kiss. A kiss that triggered San.

   ‘Okay what the fuck is going on!?’ The irritated male finally asked, through gritted teeth, while looking at the two of you. 

   ‘What do you mean?’ You asked, feigning ignorance. 

   Seonghwa squeezed your thigh, as a warning to take it easy.

   ‘You know exactly what I mean.’

   ‘No, I don’t. I met Seonghwa, we started talking, enjoying our time together and eventually... we fell for each other.’ You told him, looking at Seonghwa lovingly to sell the lie. 

   ‘Is this a part of some fucking plan to make me jealous?’

   ‘You? Why would this be about you?’ 

   ‘You know why.’ 

   ‘I really don’t.’ 

   San gripped his cutlery hard. The way you were pretending nothing had happened was pissing him off beyond belief. 

   ‘Stop pretending you don’t remember.’

   ‘Did... Something happen between the two of you? Did you date or something?’ Yeosang, who had become a little awkward by the conversation asked.

   A couple curious students that were eating in tables nearby were overeharing the conversation, and quickly stopped what they were doing to focus on the gossip.

   ‘No, we didn’t date.’ San told Yeosang. 

   ‘We didn’t, but I think I seem to remember something... Oh! Right! It was the way you pretended to be interested in me, then fucked me, and kicked me out of your house to never speak to me again.’

   Yeosang and Yunho looked at San, with disgust painted all over their faces.

   ‘Dude, you still do that!?’ Yunho asked.

   ‘He never stopped.’ 

    Everyone was shocked, as Seonghwa said that. He didn’t look up from his sad chocolate pudding. 

    ‘What the fuck Seonghwa!? Is that what you do now!? Screw my leftovers and then stab me in the back!?’ San exclaimed.

   Seonghwa slammed his fist on the table and looked up at San to meet his eyes. It was an expression that the latter had never seen on his cute, kind, puppy-like best-friend, and he wasn’t so sure he ever wanted to see it.

   ‘I’ve had enough! I’ve had fucking enough of you and your shitty behaviour, I’ve had enough of you using our friendship as an excuse to make me run around like a dog doing whatever you need, and I’m tired of getting angry looks from all the girls you fucked and then trashed away in this school. All while putting up this angel boy façade! You wanna fuck random girls and leave them on the side of the road the next day!? Get a hooker. You’re disgusting for toying with people like that. I’ve had it!’

   Murmurs and whispers could be heard in the cafeteria, after Seonghwa’s explosion. There was silence in the table, however.

   Suddenly, San’s famously adored pink hair was stained by brown goo. 

   ‘This is for screwing me and telling me to ‘skidaddle’ right after you came.’ A sobbing girl said, as she dumped another pudding on his head. ‘And this one is for running off and fucking my sister the next day.’ 

   San looked around. There was an occasional ‘you go king’ face from some pathetic little man who seemed to love his behaviour, but those ones were hidden behind the dozens angry and disgusted faces of every single peer of his.

   He panicked. A guy stood up and as he started to step towards San, the latter just ran away. He dashed out of the cafeteria to never be seen again, at least in that building.

   You turned to Seonghwa and hugged him. 

   ‘Thank you.’

   He smiled at you, as he pet your head. 

   ‘It’s alright honey, it needed to be done.’ 

   Seonghwa leaned in to kiss you, a sweet victory kiss, but you backed away.

   ‘Woah, we did it, we don’t need to fake it anymore!’ You told him with a smile. Silly him, he had forgotten!

   ‘Oh... Yes sorry, it’s the habit. Excuse me I... I need to go to the bathroom.’ 

   He stood up and walked away, and you were left to talk to his friends. But you missed the way tears pooled in his eyes. You missed the way his face grew red and the unstability in his voice. You missed the red, puffy eyes and the bruised knuckles he tried to hide once he came back from the bathroom. 

   Seonghwa cursed himself for forgetting that it was all fake.

----

   taglist: @sansbun​ @haram-monbebe​ @beefpork​ @softvelvetkisses​ @palegardenrebel​ @swimmingkpopblog​ @mirror-juliet​ @mingismoon​ @raysanshine​ @staytinyy​ 

[binniesthighs]

hello stranger | reader x changbin |

a/n: we are getting to the “height” of the conflict, therefore the angst is gonna start amping up-just as a reminder! This fic talks about self worth and healing from past trauma so please read what makes you comfy! In this chapter, the majority is implied, but still, please read the warnings ahead of time :) 

Part 4 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x seo changbin, female reader x han jisung 

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, smut, angst 

Tags: (of this part) college au, rapper!changbin, rapper!jisung, establishedfwb!jisung, artist!reader, explicit language, fluffy growing feelings, mentions of food, hello yes I just wanna give this changbin a huuuuge hug 

CWs: implications/discussion of past toxic realtionship, implications of negative self-worth and self-sabotage 

Word count: 4.8k 

Chapters: 

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5

Popcorn flew into the air in slow motion and approximately four hundred multicolored skittles scattered the floor like the shattering of glass. 

“Yes...yes...FUCK YES!!” 

Felix launched his small body into the air with a victorious screech, turning his controller into a projectile. The clump of black plastic thumped into the torn up corduroy couch missing Chan’s arm by millimeters. 

“HOW TO YOU LIKE THAT?? WOOOO!!” 

Your friend took a victory lap around the tiny living room that was a mess of winter coats and boots with melted snow dripping to the hardwood floor. 

“Felixxxxx, you made a mess!” Chan sighed out deeply and solemnly at the array of rainbow colored candies on the floor. 

“I never win. You gotta admit the way that I finished that off was extra disrespectful. DID YOU SEE the way that I down-B’d you to pieces??? That was fuckin’ awesome.” 

“Good job ‘lix.” You pulled a Twizzler by your teeth and dished out a little wink for him. 

“Hey! I haven’t been playing for nearly as long as you two have. I see this as a complete win.” 

“Well, Chan and I were at each others throats the whole time, so, we kinda killed ourselves off for you.” 

“I still won!!” 

“Alright, alright, good job.” Both you and Chan took turns patting his poofy blond hair. 

“Ahhh our Lix’ is finally growing up.” Chan sighed, mockingly looking out in the distance to some far away place. “But...now you’ve gotta clean this up. Lucky you’re the one that paid for the Skittles, not me.” 

In his fit of happiness Felix didn’t even care about getting down on his hands and knees to pick up the pieces like Cinderella. 

Chan took a gulp of his electric green Monster. “Feels nice to have you back around here Y/n. It feels like it’s kind of been a while.” 

“Mm, it has. You know how it goes, stuff gets busy and all that.” 

“~And she’s been hanging out with someone else~” Felix’s words came out in a cutesy little song. 

“You have?” 

You slapped Felix right upside the head to which he whimpered out with a much more dramatic “owww” than was warranted. 

It was likely a mistake that the two of you had kept Changbin a secret from Chan. Chan basically idolized him, and you felt that it was best not to...complicate things. Every other hour Chan would bring up one of Changbin’s songs, talking about him as if he was some kind of lyrical genius. He had half a plan to meet him at the last show, but had gotten too shy and pulled you both before he could get second thoughts. 

For it to be so easy for you...it felt somehow unfair. 

It was definitely a mistake. 

“Who? Jisung?” Chan rolled his eyes a bit like he always would when spoke of that boy.

“No...” Your voice became small, then you shot deathly glares at Felix who tucked his tail in between his legs. 

“Chan...”

Felix’s eyes widened to full moons once he had realized what you were about to do. You curled yourself up into a ball slightly, sweaty hands grasping at your controller. 

“Its...Changbin.” 

“CHANGBIN?” Chan shot upright from his seat. “Changbin?? Are we talking about the same Changbin?? Changbin-from-the-show-Changbin??” 

“Yes.” You steadied your thumping chest. 

“When did that happen??” Chan turned his body towards Felix who cowered into the mess of Skittles. “Did you know about this?” 

Felix made a little grunt that could have sounded like either a “yes” or a “no”-- it was likely his safest bet. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Because I knew it would be kinda...like this...” 

Your eldest friend sat back down his his palm firmly slapped against his forehead. “Sorry, I’m just having a hard time piecing this all together.” 

“It happened after the show that one day. I was walking home and I fell and got kind of scraped up, then he took me back to his place...” 

Simply bringing that night back up again sent you spinning into your pool of memories: and they had a particular tendency to make you just as flustered as the night when they had first occurred. There were dozens of little things about him that had stuck with you, even if you wouldn’t admit it out loud. 

There was that stupidly confident smirk of his, that little scar on his chin, how his fingers looked in those silver rings, his hooded grey-black eyes, those faint little stretch marks on the backs of his arms, and the way that his Adam’s apple would bounce when you kissed into his neck. 

“Well? Chan’s voice snapped you back. “Does that mean...you aren’t seeing Jisung anymore?” 

“...Jisung?” 

His name hadn’t occupied your thoughts for weeks, and you hadn’t taken much notice of it. There were unread text messages from him that had fallen to the bottom of you message list, and missed calls that you hadn’t returned. Creeping inside of you was a sick and sticky feeling: the kind that you pushed deep down inside yourself to the place where things would get forgotten. 

You didn’t know what you wanted from Jisung. 

It wasn’t the way that he would kiss you roughly and needily, or how he would take greedy hands to every inch of your body. It wasn’t how he would fill praises into your ears or shake a little when he would finish himself off on your belly.  Months ago, it would be all you could think of, then immediately forget after it had happened. That was what made it easy. 

Changbin wasn’t easy. He wouldn’t give himself up entirely to you just because he could. He made you earn him, and he made you seek him. 

You belonged to neither of them. 

In your lap, your hands trembled with a memory of long ago: snowflakes in your hands burning with the cold and your throat scratched from all the yelling. 

“Y/n?” Chan softened. 

 A sob had caught in your throat which you swallowed down with effort. “I-I’m still seeing Jisung.” 

“Wait, you’re seeing both of them?” Felix popped up from the floor. “You didn’t tell either of them?” 

“I don’t need to. I’m not tied down to either of them.” You had said it as confidently as you could, almost like you needed to convince yourself. 

Both of your best friends eyes carefully held yours. 

“Doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t tell them.” Felix nodded. 

Chan nodded too in agreeance. 

“But we’re just fucking around?? Its not like I’m cheating on anyone.” 

“Y/n, you’re missing the point.” 

“What? Don’t I have the right to sleep with whoever the hell I want to? Don’t you think that it’s kind of backwards that I should keep everyone in the loop when I’m just--why would I--” 

Chan’s hand snuck over to yours which had started shaking even more violently on your leg; you hadn’t even noticed. The sobs that you had held in your chest started to overflow, bubbling and spewing from your surface. They felt choked in your throat, and then burned hot tears in your eyes. Both of your friends got to work, scooting in right next to you and sandwiching you between their arms. 

“You don't have to be afraid.” Felix whispered softly. He smoothed his hand down your back. 

“I-I’m not.” You clenched the words between your teeth. “Why-why are you guys drilling me like this??” You squirmed a bit between them. 

Chan hushed, “We’re not.” 

“Then why does it feel--” 

“--You're doing it again.” Felix simply sighed, and rocked the three of your bodies to the tune of your messy sobs. 

Chan let out little “shhh” sounds. “Stop digging yourself in that hole Y/n. You know that you’re doing it. Its more than just messing around.” 

A tangible and thick silence held the air where your two closest friends held onto you tightly, almost like you would slip away. You fucking hated them for reading you as well as they did, but you also fucking loved them for being as good at it as they were. Being sandwiched like this with them was all too familiar. They had also done it on that same night: the night when your world had collapsed. That night you had been so weak you could barely hold back. 

“It’s not gonna happen again.” Chan said at last. “I know that you must think about it all the time, and I’m so sorry that you do. You’re never gonna be stuck in that alley alone again.” 

Felix quickly added, “We’ll be there--even if it does--which it won’t.” 

“Stop dragging yourself through it okay? I know it’s easier said than done.” Chan took his black sweater sleeve to dab at your tears. 

You were completely engulfed in your friends love, the unconditional kind: the kind that would part the seas and walk through flames for you. You don’t know how you could have forgotten how it had been there. 

“Maybe its one of them or the other, but, I think you should tell them. You don’t deserve to tear yourself up like this over it all. It’s not good for you, or for them.” Felix laughed a little. “We’re not blind you know.” 

Fat, thick sniffles clogged up your nose. Your subconscious and consciousness mudded behind your eyes and those memories of both boys: Changbin and Jisung became indistinguishable. You had sought them out for different reasons, but you hadn’t known why. Now, it was all becoming clearer. 

“You like him don’t you?” Felix took his turn dabbing at your eyes too. “I can tell.” 

“N-no...” 

Felix didn’t even need to say who “he” was for you to understand. 

“No?” 

“I just...go see him sometimes.” 

You would. You would see him, think of him, call all the little things about him to your memory: that scar on his chin and the faint stretch marks on his arms. 

Snot dripped down your nose and over your quivering lips and you didn’t even care. 

That voice rang in your ears just as you had remembered it on that night when he had dragged you out there, alone, furious. You didn’t even know what you had done wrong. 

"I don’t want it to happen again.” 

The words tore from your lips freely, finally. The fear that you had held so deep inside, the fear that would plague your every other thought. The fear that kept you from answering questions or giving answers. The fear that brought your feet to Jisung’s doorstep and the fear that kissed away words on Changbin’s lips. A massive weight like heavy metal chains that had wrapped around your body started to loosen. 

“How are you going to let yourself have a chance at something good if you don’t try, right?” Chan and Felix exchanged hopeful little smiles. 

Felix patted your hair to fix where you had frizzed it between them. “You know what you need to do.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

[11:18] 

changbin: this friday? yeah, I don’t think that I have anything else going on. 

its been a little while.

everything okay? 

...

i’m sorry if i overstepped that night

you just looked 

...

fuck 

 you’ve got me thinking of you all the time 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

Snow fell on your walk to class. It was the same early morning one that you shared with Minho. These days, the two of you had seemed to have gotten much closer. Even though you hadn’t been over in nearly a week, Minho still talked to you as if he saw you there every day. He would complain about little things such as how the rest of his roommates would leave dishes in the sink or socks randomly on the floor. 

What the two of you didn’t talk about much was Changbin. There was some unspoken understanding now that the two of you had promised. He didn’t want to know much and you didn’t want to tell him; and it stayed that way. It was odd now considering that you had been quiet before so he couldn’t hear. 

Admittedly, that did give you a chuckle or two from time to time. 

Today, the snowflakes gathered in clumps and hugged each other while they floated down the the ground where they would melt instantly. This was the kind of snow that wouldn’t stick around. For this, you were grateful. In the first week of February, you had just enough of winter and longed for the green grasses that would peek from the melting white. 

The tip of your nose and ears were warm as you marched onward with eyes squinted from the flakes that would get caught in them. In some ways, you were thankful. During the lectures, you would often prefer watching the blanket of white dancing in the windows behind the professors head. 

Something you still had to learn however, was picking the right shoes. Your toes were frozen in the same canvas shoes that Changbin had scolded you for wearing. You pulled out your phone the check the time: eleven minutes early. It was somewhat of a personal best. 

You smiled with a little pride, missing the body mass that was walking right past you and collided with your shoulder. 

“Oh! Sorry, I’m so sorry, I was--Jisung?” 

“Y/n?? Holy shit--” 

Heartbeats rang in your ears and you felt as if you could hear the very blood pumping in your veins. 

“I-I’m late for class, I gotta--” 

“--No wait!” Rather than looking angry as you expected, that wide smile of his spread across his rosy cheeks. “I’m just glad that I ran into you.” 

“Jisung, really, I need to go--” 

His gloved hand reached out for your arm. “I’ve been trying to reach you but I think something must’ve gone wrong with your phone. How are you doing?” 

“How am I doing?” 

“Yeah, I was kinda worried, it was like you dropped off the face of the earth.” 

You clawed your arm away. “I’ve been fine.” 

Jisung sucked at his teeth, “Listen, after your class, can we talk? I borrowed my roommates car--I can drive us back to my place--” 

“--That’s what you want to do? Talk?” The simmering anxiety that washed over you turned into irate heat. 

“Yeah?” 

“No its not.” 

You slung your shoulder bag high up your arm, and walked on. 

“Stop stop stop.” Jisung threw his body in front of your path. “What’s been going on with you? Hm? Did something happen? What is it? Your-uh art or something? You still do that right?” 

Jisung had seen your paintings decorating the walls of your bedroom and the sketches that piled up on your desk next to colored pencils tied up together by rubber bands. He had seen them, but he had never looked. 

“Why the hell do you care so much?” 

“Baby--” He scuffed after your determined steps towards the business building. “Listen, I-I missed you okay?” Jisung yelled into the winter air: “I missed you. Alright?” 

“Jisung, it wasn’t me that you missed.” 

He stammered, and huffed up those puffy cheeks of his. In one final attempt, he approached you carefully with those cute brown eyes that you would often let slip into your daydreams. He reached out for your cold hand and took it in his. Had it been several months ago, you would have killed for him to hold your hand like that. 

“I’ve been doing some thinking lately, especially when I hadn’t heard from you. I just...got this feeling like had done something wrong and I couldn’t figure out what the hell it was. Now, I know that I did. I...don’t like seeing you mad like this. Tell me what it is? I wanna see you at my show next week. I just want things to go back to the way that they were.” 

The way that things were. 

The way that things were was simplier. Easier. Just like he was. Jisung didn’t ask questions and Jisung didn’t take you out to noodle places just because he he felt like it. 

The way that things were would have been easier and his hand did feel pleasantly warm in yours like you had imagined. 

“I have to get to class Jisung.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

On that Friday evening when you marched up to the front door of Changbin’s apartment building, he stood hooded under the tin awning turned to rust brown with age. He huffed out a little under the dinky light of the old building, but as far as you could see, his cheeks and nose had blushed with pink. You wouldn’t have pegged him it for it, but he had draped a thick black scarf around his neck in the same place where he would usually display that thick silver chain. As soon as you locked eyes, he gave you a little wave with knees bouncing. 

“Shouldn’t you be inside?” Your breath vaporized into thin, white, visible droplets in the air.  

“I thought that I could meet you out here rather than have you wait in the cold. I realized I did that last time.” 

“Oh. Uh-thank you...I guess.” 

Changbin cracked out a little smile, then announced, “Come on, let’s get going.” 

“Get going? Get going where? Did you want to get noodles again?” 

He chuckled, then stepped out into the lightly falling snow. It tangled up in his curling locks and got caught in the fabric of his scarf. “Hm-no. Not this time.” 

Changbin looked over at you with his stormy grey eyes, something that hadn’t come to you as easily as before. Something in him had changed since you had first met him when he was standing on that stage as if it was the edge of the world. Before, you had felt as if you were drowning in the way that he carried himself, or the way that his gaze would bear down at you as if to test your strength. The aura that you once thought to be crushing had now turned into something much softer. 

“You coming or are you just gonna stand there?” 

One of his hands which he had tucked into his parka coat wiggled out to beckon you behind him. 

“Come on. Take it.” 

“Wh--” 

Changbin made the choice for you then shoved both of your hands into his pocket. “It’ll be warmer this way.” 

You scoffed at the gesture: it was the oldest trick in the book. “Really? Is it?” 

In the cramped pocket filled with lint, his thumb rubbed up against yours. You obliged, and he tugged you close to him with each and every finger interlaced between yours.  

“See? Feels better now doesn’t it?” 

Flecks of salt crunched under both of your shoes when you turned the corner lit by a single streetlight. Both of the fabric of your coats squeaked standing this close to eachother. His scarf was pulled up all the way to his chin, and his hair bopped with each and every step that he took. 

“You’re not going to tell me at all?” 

“Can’t you just let this happen? I’m trying to surprise you, damn...” 

“...Surprise? What...?” 

Changbin lead the two of you past another corner to a much busier street in the nighttime: it was bustling with cars and taxi’s and it was lined with little shops on each side that leaked out tantalizing smells. 

“Are we getting food here?” 

“Quit asking questions.” 

Two more blocks, and Changbin’s hand tugged at you all the way down the stairs to the subway where he used his own card to swipe you both in. Down there the sides of the walls were dirtied with old newspapers and cigarette butts, and the walls were of an aquamarine blue hue. 

“The subway? We can’t be going too far...right?” 

Still, he said nothing while he brought you right over the the waiting area, and the two of you stood amongst the businessmen in their best shirts stained with food smears and beer splatters as well as the nurses still in their scrubs after a long day. 

“I said stop to asking questions.” His sentence trailed with a bit of an edge. “Here, stay close.” 

A group of particularly raucous businessmen fell all over each other in a little pod closest to you and Changbin. It was as if it was instinctual for him the way that he wrapped his arm around your shoulder to pull you in to his chest where you stood on the subway deck. A dank smell of wet coats and the sweating bodies under them wove to the air once you had entered and mingled with the rest of the passengers. It was rush hour, and the capacity of the subway was near limit, so no seats could be found. You had to bury your face partially into that scarf of his as he held onto one of the straps dangling from the ceiling of the car. Both of your arms wrapped around him in a type of hug as you clung to his frame to keep your balance.

“Only a few more stops,” He assured you. 

The lull of the car drew a heavy and sleepy film over your eyes, and you found yourself nuzzling into his warmth and clinging to the fabric of his coat just a bit tighter. You had never guessed, but there was an odd sense of intimacy about holding on to one person on a speeding train in a crowd of people. 

“This one.” Changbin nudged you lightly, then pushed a few bodies out of your way bodyguard-style at the stop. “Watch your step.” 

He swept your hand back up into his, then he led the both of you to the staircase and the sound of the city that was much louder and obvious than it was at the stop by his home. His smug smirk only grew the higher and higher that you ascended. 

“Now are you going to tell me?” 

“You’re horrible with surprises. Changbin nudged you with his elbow. “I’m never surprising you again.” 

The skin of your cheeks were once more assaulted with the bite of the winter, and it took you several moments to figure out where he had taken you. 

“Look over to your left.” 

Just past a hectic intersection, there was the soft glow of lights: the first ones that you could see were yellow-white, and they were all tangled up in the branches of tree branches: making them appear as if the leaves had never fallen, but were instead replaced by these luminescent ones. You looked further past them to the entire park which was illuminated by similar string lights of all kinds of different colors: green and red, blue, pink and orange. Every single tree in the park was decorated with them, and they shone upon the area in a rainbow of colors. 

“Christmas lights?” 

“The last ones that they take down I think.”  

“I mean...I wasn’t expecting...this” You gestured to the sea of lights before you. 

The stoplight across the street blinked on to the little “walk” symbol. 

Confident as ever, Changbin didn’t falter. “Let’s go.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

You followed after Changbin under the canopy of spiny winter fingers and the lights that were spotted in between them. The passageway of the park was lined with benches on the side of the path and little groups of families, friends and couples each passed pointing out at the whole display. Christmas had been long gone, but somehow it still existed here in this little corner and the joviality it held with it. 

He motioned for you to sit and brushed off the remnants of snow caked on the wood. 

“I’ve got one more surprise for you.” 

“I thought you said that you weren’t going to surprise me anymore?” 

“Well, you’re in luck because I planned this one already.” 

From his pocket he took out what looked like a thin aluminum container with hinges on the side. The metal was cold in your hands when you popped it open and inside was a small sketchbook with dotted paper and a set of double-sided colored pencils.

“I thought...you said something about colors the other day and how you liked them so I thought you would like it here with all the lights and maybe you could draw it? If you want?” 

“Changbin...” 

The wooden pencils were of a waxy quality; likely the kind that you could get at a corner store but that wasn’t nearly what mattered the most. 

“Thank you. I mean it. I’ll draw something.” 

Your heart always skipped a beat the second that you brought your pencil to the paper, and this was no exception. Across from you, there was another bench, identical to the one you sat on, and behind it, was a tree wrapped in pink lights. You set to work quickly, copying the picture as best as you could, not even caring for the little mistakes you could make. Changbin watched you from your shoulder, but you had barely taken notice. Once you had finished, you scribbled your signature at the bottom habitually. 

“Here, I want you to have it.” You tore out the page. “It’s a thank you.” 

He turned it over in his hand, then lightly brushed his fingertips over the way that you and woven the tree branches together and how it looked like the bench was dipped in the symphony of multi-colored lights. Beyond the tree line, you had drawn a few of the skyscrapers crowning the scene which he traced over too. 

“Wow...um, thank you.” He hid his tiny grin after shoving it in his pocket. 

Together you both sat, saying nothing, but rather taking in the scene together just as you had done at the noodle shop. It was peaceful simply existing next to another human being like this. 

Your knuckles cracked in your lap while you recalled Chan and Felix’s urgings looking over at Changbin while he too wondered around himself. 

Its not good for you. Or for them. 

The man next to you rose, “Do you want to walk around a bit more? Or--”

“--Changbin...I need to tell you something.” 

“What is it?” Under the pink glow of the string lights, his skin appeared softer. 

“There’s something--I haven’t told you something and...you deserve to know.” 

“Know...what?” 

His head titled, examining the way that your face had fallen and became twisted up in the words on your tongue. He reached out to hold both of your cold-bitten cheeks in his hands, rubbing his thumbs to soothe you. You thought to yourself, there was something oddly intimate about standing out in the open with him like this: bearing yourself as such for the whole world to see, and how the tip of your nose rubbed up against his. 

The words stung in your throat with a pain like acid. 

“During this time when we were...there was also-I was also--” 

“--I know what you’re going to stay and I want you to stop.” 

“What?” 

Changbin scoffed. "I should have guessed anyway but, it’s not my place either since we never really said exactly what this is.” 

Your voice wavered, “I’m sorry. I’ll understand--” your arms fell to your sides. “--if you don’t want to--” 

“--I said stop. Do you need me to say it again? I don’t own you or any dumb shit like that, and you don’t owe me anything either. But, I appreciate the honesty though.” Changbin pulled your forehead to rest against his, exhaling out visible breaths. “What are you going to do now?” 

Just as he had done before, he reached down, all the way down your arms to wrap them around his waist. 

“I-I don’t know. But--I do know that, being around you is...different and--” You sniffled, “--I don’t want to give that up yet.” 

“Okay then. 

You held your eyes closed, but you could hear his one and only smirk in his words. 

“I wouldn’t mind sticking around either--but--you know what this means then?” 

“What’s that?” 

“You’re coming to my show next week.” 

“Ugh, fine. I’ll go.” 

Both of your breathless giggles filled the space between you both. 

Your chest shook with a sigh, the kind that had been trapped, or maybe just held in for too long. 

His lips were cold under the array of twinkling lights, and he delved himself into you carefully with his focus on nothing other than you. The way that he kissed you was terrifyingly beautiful: as if you were the way that each of the colors from the lines you sketched intersected and became one with the other. The heat of skin and the tip of his tongue filled your mouth with his promises that he had been composing for you since he had met you, and you could finally hear it for the first time. He had never changed the way in which he had done it from that first night.

He kissed you like he loved you, and maybe he really did.  

[horansqueen]

New Angel - Chapter 17

story masterlist [x]

chapter 1  ☆ chapter 2  ☆ chapter 3  ☆ chapter 4  ☆ chapter 5  ☆ chapter 6  ☆ chapter 7  ☆ chapter 8 ☆ chapter 9 ☆ chapter 10 ☆ chapter 11 ☆ chapter 12 ☆ chapter 13 ☆ chapter 14 ☆ chapter 15 ☆ chapter 16

NOTES

☆ written from Niall’s pov ☆ i don’t proofread, I never do, I hate it. ☆ AU comedy/fluff/smut/romance ☆ 2.5k ☆ i accept requests and ideas for this story, so message me in my inbox! ☆ if you want to be notified when this story is updated (or be taken off the update list) CLICK HERE

NIALL

As soon as I entered the bar, the smell of cigarettes invaded my nose. I raised it up slightly and tried to follow Millie through the mob of people already gathered near the scene. A few more were sitting at tables with a drink and I let my eyes roam around quickly until I felt a hand reach for mine. Millie squeezed my fingers and pulled on my hand gently. I was not really sure if it was so I would walk quicker or if she was just scared we'd lose each other but I squeezed her fingers back, apologizing as I pushed people on my way.

We ended up in front of the scene and I glanced back to see if anyone was pissed at us for stealing their spot until the lights turned down and everyone started screaming. Three guys appeared on stage and immediately started playing. One of them sent a smile to my best friend, greeting her with a small chin movement and a wink, and she smiled back, waving slightly.

When Millie proposed that we'd go see one of her friends' band play tonight, I didn't expect it to be in some unknown bar with a bunch of drunk losers but the atmosphere was nice and after the third song, I realized that I actually enjoyed the music even if it was not the type I normally listen to.

Millie was jumping around, dancing pretty much in the same way she did in the living room of our apartment, and it made me smile. I watched her for a few minutes until she turned around and bent down slightly to grab one of my hands. Without thinking, I pulled on it and made her twirl around. I couldn't hear her laughter but I saw her laugh when she faced me again and she pulled on my arm, inciting me to join her. We danced for a few minutes before I actually started feeling at ease but I couldn't help it and from time to time, I made her twirl around just to see her smile grown every single time.

I don't know how many songs they played or for how long but when they finally left to stage, I was panting and exhausting but the smile plastering my face wouldn't leave. We walked to the bar and its only when Millie let go of my hand to lean her elbows on the counter that I realized we had been hand in hand the whole time, even as we walked up to order drinks. It didn't bother me. In fact, it felt quite nice to get some human contact, and I stared at my friend as she ordered some fancy drink.

"So, how did you like it?" Millie asked, raising her eyebrows.

I blinked a few times, getting out of my thoughts slowly and my lips curled again. "They're amazing! How do you know them?"

Her nose raised up in a grimace and she shrugged a shoulder. "I dated the guitarist."

"Oh." I just said, a bit surprised.

He didn't seem to be her type but I didn't comment anything and just ordered a beer.

"Yea, I know. But I really liked him." she explained with a shrug, looking away.

"You don't have tio justify yourself, Mill." I pointed out, reaching for her arm and squeezing it gently.

She turned to me and sent me a smile but I jumped slightly when someone actually touched me. I turned around meeting the brown eyes of a gorgeous brunette who was sending me a smile, her head slightly tilted.

"Hey, uhm, I was wondering if you wanted to buy me a drink?"

I felt Millie's arm slip away from my hand but I remained motionless as I stared at the girl smiling at me. I was already having problems deciding between two girls, adding a third one to the story, even if only for one night, was way too much to handle at the moment. Besides, I knew she was gorgeous but for some reason, I was not attracted much. Perhaps the fact that I was not over Grace yet and that I was sort of seeing Summer didn't help but it didn't matter.

"I'm sorry, maybe an other day."

The girl's smile faltered for half a second and she finally just shrugged. "You don't know what you're missing."

She turned around and left, pushing her hair off her shoulder and it made me chuckle and shake my head. Somehow, she reminded me of Grace and it annoyed me. Was she really like Grace or was I just too obsessed with my ex girlfriend, resulting in me seeing her literally everywhere?

"Wow, that was awkward." I pointed out with an amused smile, turning to Millie who just raised her eyebrows.

"Imagine for me."

I frowned and moved my head but just as I was about to ask her what she meant, that guy from the band (and her ex boyfriend) appeared. She turned to him, sending him a big smile, and threw herself in his arms. He held her tight, lifting her of a few inches for two or three seconds and finally put her back down. I had no idea why but he was annoying me but I was not going to mention it.

I followed them to a table and somehow, as I watched them interact, I realized that I barely knew anything about the old relationships Millie had had before Louis. I couldn't understand how I had not been interested in befriending this girl before and it was crazy to think we could have had this friendship years before if we had taken the time to talk.

Millie and Peter talked for half an hour and every time he made her laugh, I frowned and I was not sure why. It was a bit scary to think she could want to go back to this guy because of how badly Louis had hurt her and at the same time, I would understand if she wanted to throw herself into something new if only to forgot or try to move on. After all, I had started some sort of relationship with Summer even if I was clearly not ready to move on from Grace.

I got out of my thoughts and held my breath when I noticed Millie leaning her head against his shoulder and just quickly got up to get an other drink. I knew it was better if I gave them some space but when I walked back to the table, Millie was getting up. I frowned as she turned to me and sent me a smile and I couldn't help but smile back at her.

"Do you want to leave?"

"If it's okay with you."

I nodded and took a long sip of my beer before handing it to her. She smiled a bit and took it from my hand, swallowing what was left and leaving it on the table.

"Thank you."

"Of course, pet."

I was expecting her to complain about the nickname but she just walked past me and I followed her until we were out of the bar. We remained silent for a while as we walked to my car and after a while, I just licked my lips and glanced at her.

"Did something happen with Peter?" I asked softly, making her turn around and frown at me. "You seem... I don't know... sad."

Millie avoided my gaze and brought her shoulder up as she wrapped her arms around her waist. Without thinking, I took my hoodie off and handed it to her. She stopped walking and looked at the navy sweater in my hands before shaking her head slightly.

I didn't insist but let my arm fall down next to me with a sigh. "What's wrong, Mill?"

She sighed too but turned around to keep walking. It's only when we reached my car that she leaned her butt against it and closed her eyes. I took a step closer in an attempt to hide her from the cool wind and waited.

"That girl earlier, the one who flirted with you." she paused and licked her lips, keeping her eyes closed. "She knew someone like you would never date someone like me. It didn't even cross her mind that we could be together, even if we had danced together, even if we held hands and even if you were holding my arm when she arrived. She knew. And I know I normally don't give much attention to these things but... it hurt. This time, it really hurt."

"That girl was entitled and a bit stupid." I explained, moving closer and putting my hands on her shoulders. "That's probably why she flirted. I also know a few girls who really dont care if the guy is taken or not. To be quite honest, she most likely didn't even notice you! She was probably obsessed with how handsome I am."

"Oh shut up!" Millie laughed, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

"Mill, anyone would be lucky to date you."

"Oh yea? So you'd date an average fat girl?"

My traits softened and in the way she had talked, I could hear all the pain she was feeling at the moment. It was crazy how I seemed to connect to Millie, probably because both our hearts were broken and we could understand each other.

"You know who I'd date? I'd date someone I love, someone I trust. I'd date someone who cares about me, and that I care about. Someone who listens to me, makes me laugh, someone empathic, kind... someone who helps me become a better person, a better version of myself. Someone I'm at ease with and feel safe around. Someone I connect with. It doesn't matter if that person is fat or skinny, tall or short, Blonde or brunette. It's not what matters."

Millie stared in my eyes for about a minute, nibbling on her bottom lip and finally licked it.

"Wow, I always thought you were shallow." she admitted in a very low tone, making me raise my eyebrows.

"What? Why?"

She raised her nose up, a bit embarrassed by her word and finally shrugged a shoulder. "Because of the type of girls you date."

"God I hate when you day that." I confessed, letting my hands slip on her arms and fall on each side of me. "I hate that you think I'm like that. When you mentioned it at the bar, it really hurt me, or annoyed me. Or both. That's why I picked Summer, because she was the complete opposite of the description you gave of my 'type'." I added, doing quotation marks with my fingers as I said the last word. "I don't want you to see me as a shallow man who cares only about the body or whatever."

"I don't see you like that." she whispered. My eyes met hers and my heart skipped a beat. "I mean, I used to, it's true. But in the past few weeks, I got to know you and... I love what I see, Niall. You're a good guy with a heart of gold. You're funny, smart, open-minded... And that thing you said about the person you'd date? That was deep, I love it."

Slowly, my lips curled on the right and I nodded. I suddenly felt lighter, knowing that Millie didn't see me as a horrible and shallow person anymore.

"I was wrong about you, Niall."

"Yea, I was wrong about you too."

Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around her neck and pulled her closer. I felt her hands on my back and leaned my cheek against her head for a while before finally pulling away and bending down slightly to look in her eyes.

"Ready to go home?"

"Fuck yes." she chuckled, nodding frenetically. "I need my sweatpants and a warm tea!"

"You can still put my hoodie on, you know." I proposed with a smile as I walked around the car.

"I told you, Niall, your clothes don't fit me."

I lost my smile, not knowing what to answer, and finally just opened the door to sit behind the wheel. When we walked back home, Millie walked to her room and I walked to mine, putting sweatpants and a t-shirt on before searching through my drawers. I walked back to the living room, seeing my friend already sitting on the couch wearing pretty much the same outfit as me. I sat next to her and handed her an other hoodie, making her frown.

"Please, try it on."

Her gaze moved from the hoodie to my eyes, then back at the hoodie. She licked her lips nervously and finally grabbed it and put it on very quickly. A big smile drew itself on my lips when she raised her eyebrows, staring at the front of the shirt she was now wearing.

"Perfect." I pointed out in a low tone. Her head moved up quickly and her eyes met mine before I leaned against the couch, still looking at her. "It's yours, now."

I watched her traits soften and her expression change into a loving one. She tilted her head again and brought her shoulders closer to her cheeks as she nibbled on her bottom lip some more. "Thanks, Niall."

"You're totally welcome."

I placed my arm on my thigh, palm up and fingers spread. A bigger smile appeared on her lips and she placed her hand in mine before we intertwined our fingers together. I started the next episode of a new tv show we were watching together and smiled more when I felt her head on my shoulder.

I thought about Grace suddenly, and then about Summer. It made me realize we hadn't talked about them or about Louis at all on that evening, and that the lists we were supposed to fill were totally forgotten but somehow, it made me feel good. I didn't want to think about it, I didn't want to feel nervous about the fact that I was supposed to pick the girl I wanted to be with in less than three days.

I also felt like Millie was happier when we didn't mention Louis and I just hoped he wouldn't show up while we were watching tv together, knowing it would literally ruin Millie's night.

We would probably fill the lists on the next day and I found comfort in the thought of sharing that with Millie. I don't know what I'd do if I'd have to go through all of this by myself.

After a while, I felt Millie's head heavier on my shoulder and noticed that her breathing had slowed down. I looked at her, trying not to move too much to make sure I wouldn't wake her up, and noticed she was asleep, her lips slightly parted. I don't know how long I stayed motionless with Millie sleeping against me but eventually I fell asleep too, realizing I hadn't felt that light and happy in a very long time.

[niksixx]

Close as Strangers

Requested: Nope! 

Pairing: The Dirt!Tommy Lee x Fem!Reader 

Description: Based on the song ‘Close as Strangers’ by 5 Seconds of Summer. Lyrics are bold and italicized. 

A/N: Reblog and leave your own tags!! Thanks for supporting me :) 

*GIF is NOT mine. Found on Google. Credit to the owner.*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Six weeks since I’ve been away

And now you’re saying everything has changed

And I’m afraid that I might be losing you

And every night that we spend alone

It kills me thinking of you on your own

And I wish I was back home next to you

Tommy had a job to do whether you liked it or not. Mötley Crüe was at the height of their success, landing tours in countries all across the globe. Being unfamiliar with the music scene, having a rockstar boyfriend was much harder than it looked. You supported him in every way, being there for him as his fame grew, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said it wasn’t difficult at times.

Shortly after Mötley Crüe’s debut in America, your relationship crossed over the line from casual to serious. You and Tommy adored each other, two halves of one whole, but lately you felt your relationship slipping right through your fingers. And the worst part was there was no motivation to save it.

“I’ve only been gone six weeks, honey.”

Six weeks too many. Now on his second tour, Tommy was busier than ever. Phone calls after every show were either late or nonexistent. In the event that he didn’t call, you tried not to take it personally, finding random things around the house to keep you busy, to keep your mind from wandering.

And then the plethora of rumors started and knocked the wind out of you. Tommy would never cheat on you, his heart was too loving, his soul too pure, but the paparazzi pictures did their job of convincing you that maybe Tommy had been unfaithful.

There was no denying that your relationship was dwindling, changing for the worst. In your bed, the side Tommy slept on grew colder and colder each night he was gone. The body pillow that rests in his place was too soft, lacking the firmness of Tommy’s body that you’d grown to love as you fell asleep beside him. The blankets didn’t compare to having his arms wrapped tightly around your frame.

Everything was just...different.

“Am I...am I losing you?”

No.

No.

No.

It was the word you wanted to scream out to him on the other end of the line, but it wasn’t the word that came out.

“I miss you so much, babe. I hate that I’m not there with you. I’d do anything to come back home to you.”

And you’d give anything to have him back, too.

Are we wasting time? Talking on a broken line?

Telling you I haven’t seen your face in ages

I feel like we’re as close as strangers

Won’t give up, even if it hurts so much

Every night I’m losing you in a thousand faces

Now it feels we’re as close as strangers

On the other end of the line, you can hear Tommy’s name being called either by his bandmates, groupies, or partygoers that found their way backstage after the show. He was easily distracted, shouting back and forth or laughing, forgetting that you were patiently, tiptoeing the line of impatiently, waiting for him on the other end.

“Tommy.”

“What? Oh, shit, I’m sorry babe.”

He was always sorry.

Sorry for leaving.

Sorry for forgetting to call.

Sorry about the photos.

Sorry for the excessive drinking.

Sorry for becoming distracted midway through your conversation.

Overtime, the word ‘sorry' lost its value.

And when it did, you became even more distant, intolerant of his inconsistencies.

“Baby?”

“Tommy, I haven’t seen you in three months. The least you can do is give me five fucking minutes on the phone.”

“Woah. Damn. Chill out. I was just talking to Vince.”

“Chill out?” You ask dramatically, now sitting upright in bed. “Chill out? You see Vince every day, Tommy. All I want is a sliver of your time, five minutes, and you’re giving me a hard time about that?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Tommy sighs sadly, scrubbing a hand over his face. Cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder, he hastily digs a cigarette from his pocket. He lights it and puffs out a cloud of smoke. “Are you okay, baby? You’re awfully snippy.”

You had every right to be snippy. Miles away in a foreign country, Tommy was living the life he always wanted for himself, all the while you were at home, going through the motions of an ordinary day seven days a week.

At times you were jealous of his success, as it had been the factor that took him away from you. It was hard being cooped up alone in a house that was meant for two people.

In theory, you’d be fine if the effort was there. But amid Tommy’s hectic lifestyle, you were floating in the background unseen.

The sigh from your lips was one of defeat. “No, Tommy, I’m not okay. I feel like my boyfriend is a stranger to me now. I miss you more and more every night, but lately I feel like giving up.”

Tommy pauses, heart racing. His grip on the cigarette tightens. He didn’t like where this was going. “On what?”

The lump in your throat grows, fingers gripping the phone tighter. You almost choke on the words, wondering if it’s a sign to hold them back. “On us.”

“No, no, no, no, no,” Tommy repeats in a rush, hand firmly planted against the cool brick wall behind the payphone. “Don’t say that, baby. Don’t you dare say that. I love you. I love you so much, you know that, right? And I miss you. I miss you all the time. When I’m up on that stage and I look out into the crowd, the only face I don’t see that I really want to see is yours.”

Maybe you should’ve kept the words at bay. But what good would hiding your feelings do? Even thousands of miles away, Tommy could pick up on the cues. The slightest change in your voice could send him into a panic.

“Tommy, being away from you for so long is so exhausting and I just...I don’t want to spend my time sulking and crying and waiting for you to come home. You’re struggling to make time for me when all I want is a five minute phone call, the media keeps reporting that you’re drinking more than usual, and the photos...the photos are tearing my heart in pieces.” You try not to think of the photos or of the groupies that made it their priority to sleep with men like Tommy, but the images were burned into your brain. “I feel like you’ve been on tour forever and I just can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

Tommy’s world comes crashing down around him. Just thinking of you ending the relationship has him sucking in nervous breaths, mind whirling with possible solutions to save your relationship. There was no way he was letting you get away from him. He wouldn’t give you up so easily.

“What if you come on tour with us?” He questions suddenly. “You wouldn’t have to worry about seeing me because we’d always be together. Come on baby, let me show you the world.” He’s sure this idea will work. You’ve mentioned before how the rest of the world seems nonexistent, as you’ve never traveled anywhere outside your immediate country. He’s giving you the chance, and he hopes you’ll take it.

But his high hopes come crashing down as you don’t think twice about rejecting his proposal. “I have my own life to live, Tommy. I can’t drop everything and spend the next four months in twenty different cities. I have to work so I can pay rent and pay for groceries and bills. Be realistic.”

Tommy frowns, crushing the butt of his cigarette under his boot. “You were just complaining about not seeing me. I give you a way to do that and you shut it down.”

The tips of your nails suddenly become important as you cradle the phone between your ear and shoulder. You pick and pick, teeth biting the corner of your bottom lip as you do so.

“Baby, tell me where your head’s at,” His voice is small now, unsure. “Tell me you’ll always be here. Please tell me I’m not losing you.”

“I want to be able to say those things. But you’re halfway across the world right now and I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I need you here.”

There’s a heavy sigh on the other end of the line as you find yourself sliding off the bed and trudging to the window, staring out into the dark sky. The crescent moon is the only thing illuminating the outside world along with a few street lights on the pavement. Around you, the world outside is quiet. The thoughts in your head? Not so much.

It was a conversation you never wanted to have, but it was necessary. You and Tommy were two different people who needed different things. Was there a chance you were acting selfish by pleading with him to come home? No doubt.

You knew Tommy would never give up his job despite his immense love for you. And while you wanted him to come home, you couldn’t force that decision out of him.

Which is why you had to make the decision yourself.

On the phone I can tell that you wanna move on

Through the tears I can hear that I shouldn't have gone

Everyday gets harder to stay away from you

“Don’t do this,” Words break through Tommy’s quiet sobs as his body is curled in a ball on the floor beside his hotel bed. After receiving what had been the worst news of his life, his legs had given out from underneath him, his body crumbling to the ground. “Please, baby. Don’t do this to us.”

After sleeping on it for a few days, you realized that the only thing you could do was break things off with Tommy. The road to your decision was a long and rough one, but hopefully it would be worth it if there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

But it was hard. Leaving your love behind wasn’t supposed to be easy. You had your doubts, and numerous what-ifs made you question your decision.

In the end, you knew it was the right choice even if your stubborn boyfriend wouldn’t agree with you. It wasn’t fair to make Tommy give up his dream in the middle of the band’s success. It was okay to be selfish at times, but this wasn’t one of them.

“You don’t know how hard this is for me,” There’s a crack in your voice, and soon a few tears leak from your eyes. Curled in a ball as well, your body sits heavily on the kitchen floor, back pressed against the stove. “I don’t want to do this. I really don’t want to do this, Tommy. But I can’t ask you to give up your dreams and come home. That’s selfish, and I love you too much to make you choose.”

“You’re not even giving me a choice,” Tommy says angrily, tears flowing freely. He runs a hand through his hair, dragging it down over his face, before slapping it lifelessly against his leg. Exhaling a shaky breath, Tommy leans his head back against the side of the bed. “I shouldn’t have gone. Fuck this, I’m coming home.”

“Tommy, no.” The tone of your voice is firm. You won’t let him sabotage his dreams on your account. “Listen to me. I love you. I do. But this isn’t working for us.”

“It’s not working for you,” Tommy corrects sarcastically, wiping his eyes with the back of his free hand. “Last I checked I wasn’t the one ending our relationship.”

You should have expected this, but his words stung as he spit them back to you. There’s no way you can blame him. He’s hurt. He’s angry. You deserve the lashing out for blindsiding him.

“You know I never cheated on you, right?” Tommy sniffles. The thought of being unfaithful to you had never even crossed his mind. “The photos, I mean.”

You nod. “I didn’t think you would.”

The long pause between the phone line is eerie. Tommy’s labored breathing is audible on the other end of the phone, and it’s not the type of breathing from the exhaustion after a wild show. It’s panic. It’s fear. It’s the feeling of loss.

“I told myself I’d fight for you, but if this is what you want, then I’ll let you go,” The words surprise you. Part of you had already imagined Tommy packing for the first available flight, but the defeat in his voice told you otherwise. He was staying put. “You deserve to be happy, and if I can’t do that then--.”

“Tommy, you’ve made me so happy. The happiest I’ve ever been,” There was no denying that. You had never laughed more, smiled more, loved more, than when Tommy became an integral piece of your life. “But it’s just--.”

“Right person, wrong time?”

The last piece of your beating heart shatters. The phone almost slips from your clammy palm as the reality of his words hit you. “Yeah. Exactly.”

Your life would be different if you’d met Tommy at the right time. There’d be no hesitation, no confusion, just blissful love.

Tommy clears his throat and it sinks into your bones that there was a large possibility this would be the last conversation you’d have with him. “Before you go, I want you to know something,” Tommy pauses to gather his thoughts. “I want you to know that we’re going to be together again one day. When all this is over, I’m going to find you, and I’m never going to let you go. You’re the one for me, Y/N. I’m letting you go now because I love you, but I’m going to win you back again. That’s a promise.”

One final tear slips down your cheek. “I hope you do.”

[free-pancakes]

Kiss the Drummer

Summary: a LeviHan Jazz!AU

Levi, a talented trumpet player famous in the jazz clubs of New York, is struggling with his instrument and feels burnt out—he wonders if he chose the right path in life.

The bassist of his quintet, an old friend named Erwin, invites a quirky new drummer to play with them, who brings a new spark into Levi’s life.

Notes:  Drum "chops” describe a drummer's technical ability, including a large vocabulary of licks, and how freely they express themselves on the instrument. BPM = beats per minute Songs: Giant Steps - John Coltrane

sorry this AU fic is pure self-indulgence and has become much longer than originally intended lol

crossposted to AO3

CHAPTER 1

He licked his lips and pushed them readily against the smooth, silver mouthpiece, ready to hit the first note of the song, Giant Steps. He suppressed his desire to grumble at yet another fast swing tune.

He stared out into the audience, peering at the people sitting around the tables of the club. Their faces were slightly lit from the reflection of the stage lights, wearing expressions of both excitement and anticipation. “Just another night of the same old thing,” Levi thought to himself, letting out a soft, exasperated sigh, one only he could hear. His stance conveyed confidence, but his eyes spelled apathy.

He heard snaps on 2 and 4 marking their starting tempo at 289 bpm and Levi quickly puffed warm air into his trumpet.

“One… two… one two three four—“

——

Levi wiped down his trumpet, carefully cleaning the beautiful brass after yet another great performance. He gently placed it in his case, and looked up at himself in the dressing room mirror. He stared blankly at his reflection, noting the tinge of purple beneath his eyes—he knew his body was aching for sleep. It had been restless upon restless night for the past year or so, and he wasn’t completely sure why. He looked down at his trumpet case with both affection and disdain. Maybe... he just wasn’t meant to do this for this long.

He didn’t hate playing, but the truth was, he had simply been good at it all of his life. Quite gifted at it, one would say, and thus he passively let it lead him to success. It was just what it was. He was good at jazz, he was good at trumpet. Naturally he studied it at a top university for jazz performance and joined this famous quintet, and naturally he worked hard to improve his skills. But as any routine would, practice and rehearsals became monotonous, grunt work.

While lost in thought, his eyes trailed over to his small, neat pile of math textbooks at the edge of the dresser.

If anything, he did enjoy jazz theory. It was just math, anyway—circle of fifths, cadence patterns, fancy scales—it all just added up and broke down for any message or feeling you wanted to convey with a melody for your solo, and those tools were simply available in your brain to make it happen—tools to play some straight dirty solos that make you smirk satisfactorily when listening. To Levi, it just made sense, to a lot of other people, he was called “genius”. But after years and years of this, he was burning out and he was quite aware of that. He felt like he was losing his edge, and he was just a machine clunking out music most nights of the week. Again he thought, maybe he just wasn’t meant to do this forever. But what else would pay the bills?

Shaking his head, he let his jumbled thoughts fall away momentarily. He picked up a textbook, and leafed through the pages. He clicked open a ballpoint pen and began adding to his lesson plan for one of his students, a young girl named Sasha. Honestly, she seemed utterly hopeless with math at times, but he was determined to help her at least pass her algebra class. Her little friend Connie on the other hand…well that’s a story for another day, he thought, and chuckled softly to himself. If anything, he did enjoy his side job as a math tutor for the local school system. He didn’t really need the extra pocket money, but something compelled him to keep up with it.

As he jotted down notes, muffled noise of cheering and commotion rocked against the door. Tonight’s gig was Nile’s last performance with them, as he was moving out to the west coast to play with another group and accept a teaching position somewhere out there. Levi didn’t care much for his drumming or his personality for that matter, so he wasn’t particularly sad to see him go, nor was he keen on joining the celebration out in the bar. He yawned and continued finish up writing his lesson plan, as he knew he’d probably have to drive his drunk colleagues home.

——

“Levi! I’m gonna miss you buddy!” Nile exclaimed as he aggressively ruffled Levi’s hair, causing the cowlick he spent every morning trying to gel down to stick straight up embarrassingly at the top of his head. “Yeah, yeah, yeah… good luck Nile.” He shoved him and Mike into a cab, as they lived in the same apartment complex. He turned back into the bar to Erwin smiling drunkenly and Nanaba knocked out cold, sleeping soundly as she sat with her head down on a table. Levi grumbled and picked up Nanaba’s saxophone case to haul into the trunk of his car. He returned to pick up Nanaba and carried her on his back, and Erwin walked with them to Levi’s car.

“Hey Levi, Our new drummer is flying in tomorrow. I told her I’d come and pick her up from the airport at 7am.”

Levi looked Erwin up and down with a look of disgust. “In that sorry state, Eyebrows? Tch, go sleep off the hangover tonight, I can go to the airport. What’s her name and what does she look like?”

“Her name’s Hange. She has messy brown hair usually worn up in a ponytail, wears tortoise clubmaster glasses and well… honestly you can’t miss her, I’m sure you’ll find her right away.”

“Okay. So why’d we need to bring in a completely new drummer anyway? Couldn’t we have just brought in Moblit?”

“Ah you know his style doesn’t fit ours as well, plus he’s doing well with his band right now. Don’t worry, Hange and I played together all 4 years of college together, she’s got chops. Plus, I think Hange will probably bring in the change we need. Your playing’s gone a bit stale... hasn’t it, Levi?”

“Stale?! Pfft you’re just drunk,” Levi muttered, irritated as Erwin raised his eyebrows at him. They arrived at their apartment complex and Levi begrudgingly unlocked the car doors, gently woke Nanaba, and the three of them walked up to their floor. Erwin fumbled with his keys, and Levi snatched it out of his hands, frustrated at how long it was taking him. Erwin chuckled, and Levi scrunched up his nose at the stench of alcohol in his breath. As soon as the door opened, Nanaba immediately ran to the bathroom, retching into the toilet.

“I got her,” Erwin laughed. “Go to bed, Levi, you’re the one getting up early. Flight info’s next to the door.”

Levi nodded, turned into his room, and plopped down on the bed. He stared at the ceiling, and wondered how much longer he’d keep playing, or more like, how soon he’d quit. If this Hange person was as annoying as Nile, well… he probably wouldn’t hold out much longer.

——

Levi stood with his hands in his pockets, eyes peeled for this Hange person. He looked at his watch—“Maybe she was still waiting on her luggage,” he thought. He walked over to the small cafe to his left, and waited in line, squinting for any decent teas on the menu. Before he could decide, he suddenly heard a small yelp, and something shoved right into his chest, feeling piping hot coffee running down his white, longsleeve shirt. Before he could yell obscenities at the moron who just ruined one of his favorite shirts, he was met with frantic apologizes.

“I’m so so sorry! Oh my goodness it was a complete accident, can I get you a drink to make up for it? Man I am so clumsy...oh! Maybe you can wear one of my shirts I have here, free of charge! Or I could just—“

He looked up in the middle of incessant rambling to see the culprit—a tall brunette, hair messily tied up in a bun, wearing tortoise clubmaster glasses, and a bright yellow coat.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Levi thought to himself. He looked down to see a large black cymbal case and a stick bag with yarn mallets and drumsticks poking out of it.

—I could just buy you a new shirt! Oh, how bout—“

Levi was livid—this clown was potentially going to be playing gigs with them over the next year? The coffee stained fabric was sticking uncomfortably to his skin and he felt the biggest headache coming on—all this pain just from one person. He reached up and gently placed his hand over her mouth to physically stop her chattering.

“Is your name, Hange?”

She nodded, Levi’s hand still covering her mouth.

“You’re Erwin’s friend?”

She nodded again, her eyes lighting up at the name, Levi feeling her lips forming a smile under his palm.

“Okay, I’m taking you back to our apartment.”

Levi reached for her bags to carry them, but was interrupted.

“Wait—the least I can do is give you the extra shirt I have in my backpack so you can change out of your soiled one,” she said softly. She reached in her bag, and pulled out the shirt and Levi felt his eye twitch in annoyance at the words printed on its front. He sighed, and debated sitting in his wet shirt, but it seemed like he didn’t have much choice—he’d have to wear it.

——

Levi blinked his eyes open. He felt oddly rested, but one thing was strange—he was sitting up, and he felt something unusually heavy on his shoulder.

“What the—“

He looked to the side and saw a mess of brown hair immediately to his right, heard the soft sound of snoring, and felt… something wet on his arm? He looked down and grimaced. “Drool. She’s drooling. On my goddamn arm.”

He looked around for some kind of napkin. He didn’t remember falling asleep, let alone letting this absolute stranger curl up against him. How in the world did he let his guard down this far?

He stared blankly at Hange and thought, “What a mess—what was Erwin thinking? We’ve known each other for less than 5 hours, and she seems to have already made herself right at home. I haven’t even confirmed whether she was good enough to play with us, yet.” He tried to shift out from underneath Hange, but before he could wriggle is way out—

“Kiss the drummer?”

Erwin and Nanaba stood before Levi, both with hair in a complete mess, having just woken up from sleeping off their hangovers. Smirking and holding back laughter, they stared at the scene—Levi wearing an oversized t-shirt with the words “Kiss the Drummer” in bold letters plastered across his chest, along with Hange sleeping quite cozily on his shoulder, her glasses held gently between his fingers. Levi tried covering up the words and scowled at his two friends.

“Laugh it up,” he muttered. “What is this, Erwin? She’s clearly made herself at home already—and we haven’t even gotten to play together yet.”

“Relax, Levi, she’s a great musician. And look, she likes you!”

Levi grimaced at Hange draped over his shoulder.

“Hmph, I still have to hear her play and have my opinion considered. We all get a vote yknow…”

Over their hushed voices, Hange shifted groggily towards all of them and rubbed her eyes. “Erwin?”

Hange’s eyes lit up immediately in recognition, shoving Levi back further into the couch as she jumped up to wrap Erwin in her embrace, excited to finally be reunited with her friend after so many years.

After a few minutes of catching up, Erwin smiled brightly. “Yes, we can take you around the city a bit. Rehearsal’s not til this evening anyway—we did have a gig lined up last minute for the middle of this week if you were comfortable with that, Hange.”

“Of course I’d be down to do that! I—“

“Oi. Like I said, we still vote if you get to play with our group officially. Don’t be late to rehearsal tonight.” Levi then slowly stood up and walked quietly towards his room.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just being strict about our technical audition policy,’ Erwin reassured. He and Nanaba quickly darted for their rooms to ready themselves to take Hange sightseeing for a little while and introduce her to the city, leaving her standing alone in the middle of their living room. Her eyes trailed after Levi, curious about his calm yet sad energy. She felt that she saw through that aura, noticing every little kind gesture he made towards her from the time they met at the airport to the moment they fell asleep on the couch. Hange was determined to get him to show that side of himself a little more. As he turned to grab the door behind him, she smiled at him, and was quickly met with a scowl and the slam of his bedroom door in her face. Seemed it might take some more effort to get through to him than she originally thought.