#get to the street and boom does it again. like just stops and won’t move while we’re in the middle of the street n people are honking at us

[transsexual-divinity]

Had tickets to see Live tonight and my fuckin car broke down 🤪🤪so didn’t get to go

[omgeveryusernameistakenicanteven]

Monotony

Deadpool x Y/N Kind of a crack fic, but also sorta serious. I honestly just want an excuse to write Deadpool smut soooo. Pt 2 coming soon-ish, maybe tomorrow or the day after. Anyways, Y/n uses they/them pronouns and has very minimal corporeal being at the moment (they have no lips, how will they get a kiss kiss??)

Life is boring. Y/n wished their current reality would shift into something more…exciting. Although they thought they should be grateful their life was boring. They had a stable job making good money and didn’t often experience life-altering hardships.  “Monotony is better than disaster, I suppose.” Just as they speak those words aloud an earth shaking crash booms outside their apartment.

Fuck.

Y/n runs to the window and looks into the street far below. It’s hard to tell through the gloom but rubble is scattered across the asphalt. Had a building collapsed?? Down the street to their left it’s much more concentrated. Y/n almost swears they see movement there through the dust cloud. Turns out they did. Something lumbers out of the dust cloud. Something big. Y/n throws themself to the ground out of sight and presses their fist to their mouth.

Holy fuck.

Not daring to risk peeking through the window again Y/n scurries along the ground to the other side of the room. Just in time it seems because the apartment window shatters as something is hurled through it. They scream.

“Hey, hey, hey, let’s not do that.” The crumpled..thing in the corner speaks. Not that it does any good, if anything Y/n screams louder. “HEY! You need to shut the fuck up if you don’t want us to die! Because I’m pretty sure you won’t come back if you get eaten.” The man, y/n had determined ‘it’ was most definitely a man crawled over and used his one arm to shush them.

“What the fuck?” The words were barely audible.

“You need to shut up,” he whispers back.

“Who-emf!” The man puts his hand over their mouth, staring alertly out the window. Or at least, they think he is. He’s wearing a mask. That aside, the thing that alarmed Y/n more is his strength and alertness when he should be in shock or dying. In fact, if Y/n couldn’t see the damage they would assume he was in perfect health, if a bit stressed.

After getting the message Y/n tugs on his shoulder and jerks their head towards the door behind them. The masked man tilts his head, releases Y/n, and raises a finger to his lips in a “shh” motion. “Bathroom.” Y/n mouthed, then shimmies across the floor and opens the door as quietly as possible. 

Almost as soon as the bathroom door clicks shut the noise outside stops completely. Y/n reaches again for the handle of the door but is stopped by a hand on her wrist. When they look at him he shakes his head very slowly, eyes wide and holding his breath. Slowly he releases Y/n’s hand and pulls up the bottom of his mask. The destroyed skin underneath doesn’t strike as much fear as the words he mouths, “It knows.”

So Y/n huddles against the opposite wall of the bathroom, hand against their mouth and wide eyes staring at the door as if it would come alive and attack them both. After several long minutes of listening to their own heartbeat Y/n hears a gurgly growl. It’s inside the apartment. Just as Y/n is about to say fuck it and make a break for it the man grabs their wrist again. He pulls them back so that they’re sitting between his legs with their back to his chest then presses a finger to their lips and moves his hand down to their waist to hold them in place.

It felt like an entire eternity before he released their waist. Y/n pushes away from him to the opposite side of the bathroom. “Little help.” He rasps, head slumped sideways. Thinking fast Y/n snatches towels from the cupboard and press them against the stump of his arm. Weird, it seemed shorter before.

“Deadpool.” The man whispers.

“What?”

“Before I made you shut up before you were going to ask who I was. I’m Deadpool.”

With that he slumps to the side, dead.

“Oh, fuck.” Y/n backs away from the body and looks to the door. Is it safe yet?

Y/n curls up against the wall and stares at the door. After a while they hear footsteps stumping along in her apartment. The door handle shakes, then the door opens. Another masked man stands there, this one smaller. He stares down at Y/n, then glances over at the body. For one horrible moment Y/n considers that he might blame them for this. Then he speaks “God, he’s an idiot. C’mon, let's get you some tea.”

They recoil from the masked man, but he doesn’t seem phased. Instead he helps them up and to the kitchen where he makes them a cup of tea. “Don’t worry about him, he’ll heal up just fine. Honestly he’ll probably be out here and annoying us both in fifteen minutes.”

“You didn’t s-see? He’s dead!”

“Yeah, Pool does that sometimes. Honestly, don’t worry about it. Just drink your tea. Oh, and I’m Spiderman. Sorry about your window.”

In favor of keeping their sanity Y/n decides to change the subject. “What happened?” they ask, sipping on their tea and throwing worried glances at the bathroom door.

“I-uhh, well I don’t really know. Strange is smarter with all this interdimensional space fabric stuff. The jist of it is some shit happened that opened a rift between our universes. Big baddie came here. Avengers–and Deadpool–came here to clean that up. Pool got thrown through your window and I’m assuming crawled into your bathroom to die.”

“We were hiding..that thing was in my apartment.”

“Nah. It can project its voice. It was waiting outside your apartment for a while. Probably waiting for you to come out of the bathroom. It was weird, like everything went completely silent for just a few seconds.”

“Oh..” Y/n fell silent. Thinking back to the corpse in the bathroom that had saved her life not that long before. They wondered if what this ‘Spiderman” had said was true.

A low groan came from the bathroom. Both Peter and Y/n perk up and look back to the door. The door handle jiggles but the man behind it was clearly struggling to open it fully. Y/n stumbles off their stool and runs to the doorway then flings it open.

“Honey, I’m home!” Deadpool sang, propping himself up on the doorway, “Did you miss me?” He smirks at them, his mask still up halfway. “I totally saved your life, be tee dubs.” The change in his attitude almost gave Y/n whiplash. This guy was absolutely nothing like the serious, gravely injured man who’d saved them. “Take a picture, sweet cheeks. It’ll last you longer.” He drew out the last word in a sing-song tone.

“You’re..not dead?”

“Of course I’m not dead. I would never die. Well, I would die but I wouldn’t stay dead.” He slings an arm over their shoulders and leads them back to the kitchen.

The men only stayed a couple minutes longer before both of them jumped out Y/n’s still broken window. For a long while Y/n thought that was it. Life moved on, the window was fixed. Everything was back to monotony. Then for the second time Y/n’s living room window shattered as a full grown masked man was hurled through it.

“I’m baaack!” He sang, jumping to his feet.

“What the hell, man?” Y/n clambers up after falling off their chair, “Why would you do that??”

“Hey! I didn’t have any control over it. My guess is the author needed some convenient way to get us back together so we can have some totally awesome sex.” Deadpool waggles his eyebrows. Weird that Y/n could see it over the mask.

“Listen, uh, man. You need to leave.”

“What,” he shouted, “You would just abandon me and kick me out in the cold after I saved your life??”

“It’s ninety degrees out!”

He plops himself down on the couch and crosses his arms, “My point stands.”

“No, it doesn’t. Your point fell over and died.”

“So you don’t want to have totally awesome sex?” He leans his head on the back of the couch and looks up at them. “You look funny upside down.”

For a moment Y/n pauses. This whole thing had started with them lamenting the monotony of their life. They honestly couldn’t think of anything less monotonous than fucking a spandex clad crimefighter than couldn’t physically die.

“Bedroom is that way.” They said whilst pointing. “Go lay down. I need a tylenol.”

[writersfearofrecognition]

Ignorance is bliss

Summary: Jacob and his childhood best friend slowly realise their feelings while trying to survive the quarry.

Pairing: Jacob Custos x nameless/female!OC

Warnings: jealousy, cringe dialogue, miscommunication trope, pure ignorance

TW: none i think (i hope, please tell me if there are i will gladly tag them)

Chapter 4:

we ended up against the lodge wall next to the storm shelter. Jacob right in front of me, staring into my eyes and me staring right back with an angry frown.

„Jacob…“ i threaten but he hushes me.

„you know what the kid told me right?“

„no.“ factually i didn’t….the other thing doesn’t matter that much...

„why are you, the queen of ‚facts before feelings‘ blushing at me behind my back?“

„it’s hot.“

„me?“ he asks surprised and a smile threatens to escape me but i manage to contain myself. focus damnit.

„no, the weather, i was just hot…maybe a mosquito bite i dunno…“

he hums and looks out the opening, hearing for someone to catch us two.

„and why would i? you’re with Emma.“

„i’m not-," his head snaps back to me and he sighs, „i am not with Emma, that was a fling,“ he takes his hands off the wall to gesture around, „like you with Mike or Aaron or Ben or Kyle or-.“

„why do you know all their names?“ i ask and his face and hands freeze.

„be-because they were all in my team?“

now i hum with a weirded out look and he frowns. „don’t turn this on me, you’re the one blushing around,“ he points his finger at my chest, but stops right before it would touch it. „you’re stalking my dates.“ i say matter of factly with a small smirk. „excuse you?“ he asks and moves away a bit, but comes right back when he sees how i’m eying the exit.

i could not wait for this to be over.

„hey, we’re not done. i want to know why you were blushing.“

„no reason.“

„really?“

„yes. dips-.“ his hand plants itself on my mouth and i gasp.

„shhh, someone’s coming.“

the stairs creak and Abigail appears with a small smile on her face. she’s getting ready for the friendship bracelet workshop.

she turns towards the street but then notices eyes on her and turns back.

when she sees the scene in front of her she topples over laughing.

„wow.“ she whispers and walks away while still giggling.

„you stupid-.“ he shushes me again and i start to hit his chest instead until he finally steps away.

„now she thinks we were hooking up or something.“

„and?“ he asks, genuinely confused, „maybe Nick won’t have you on his mind then.“

„HUH?! Nick’s with Abigail you-.“

Jacob’s face scrunches in confusion.

„But you said-„

„hypothetically! i’ll never see him again after tomorrow. unlike you i don’t just jump on the next person i see.“ now my finger is hovering over his chest. „what?!“ he asks loudly, stepping even further away from me.

„the first time you’re out of your parents reach, you get on with a girl, which is okay, but don’t assume that i do the same.“ i hiss quietly, lowkey scared one of the kids is listening in on us.

„is it really okay?“ he asks instead and now my face scrunches in confusion.

„yes? didn’t i tell you to go for it?“ „no that was Kaiti.“

„who cares?“ i vividly remember how much i did not…care if he got with Emma or not, but in short i told him to go for it. somewhat. UGH. „i do. because that proves something,“ now he’s leaning his body from side to side again, as he always does when he’s confident.

„and what does that prove Mister Custos.“ i scoff and look towards the exit again. „that you like me.“ he states and my vision grows wide.

i swallow and look back at him, smiling like the fucker he is, ignoring how my heart is booming right now.

he actually said it.

„no.“ i squint at him and give a half-smile to really safe the deal.

„no?“

„no.“ i push past him and up the stairs.

he was an athlete but i’m a runner.

i lose him in the mass of kids at the entrance and jog further on until i’m somehow by the fire pit.

i sit on the floor leaning against one of the big logs as a stick breaks under someone’s foot and i sit up again, ready to run again if Jacob is looking for me.

but it was Ryan. with a paper plate of food in his hand.

„hey…i saw you run off, so i thought…yeah. if you want it. i can go if you want-.“

„thanks.“ i say, grab the plate out of his hands and drag him with me to the floor.

he stutters around while i eat and i laugh.

„i don’t know why Dylan likes you so much.“

„hey.“ he scoffs, „i brought you food.“

„sorry, and thanks. I’m sure you don’t stutter around with him.“

he huffs and looks into the woods.

„what’s going on between Nick, Jacob and you?“

„i don’t know. Jacob’s clearly jealous of Nick in every form. i’m just existing.“ „are you?“ „Ryan. i just came out of an interrogation from Jacob, can we not do another one right away?“ „right sorry.“ „it’s alright, you didn’t know.“

i waft down the food in silence and then sigh.

„thank you. really. you’re a great counsellor.“

he laughs.

„if you say so.“

„what do you want to know?“ i turn to him with an encouraging smile. i was angry at Jacob (and myself) not him.

„eh…what going on maybe. i thought Jacob and Emma had…something.“

„yeah, i thought so too. but Jacob and her deny that they had any type of feeling towards each other. so i guess not…what you need to know about Jake is that his parents aren’t…the most lenient when it comes to girlfriends. his only female friends are Kaitlyn and i because we’ve always been there. so i guess he just ran wild once he was away from them for the first time. which is logical. i don’t have a problem with that. if i…“

„if you?“

„if i didn’t not really know about my feelings. like with him. something changed…for the first time. like. i don’t know.“

he laughs at my defeated face.

„like you just notice the weird feeling in your stomach?“

„yes.“

he hums and looks up at the blue sky.

„i know that feeling.“

„with Dylan?“

„no when i noticed that i wasn’t straight.“

„oh right. sorry.“

he laughs.

„you guys are weird.“ „wow.“ i giggle and smile at him.

„you come to conclusions so fast. ‚Jacob had a summer thing with Emma so that means he never ever looked at me like i was…the sun.‘“

„the sun?“

„stupid analogy you know what i mean.“ „that Jacob gives me weird looks behind me back? that doesn’t really make me more confident in our strange relationship.“

he groans, „i mean loving look you idiot.“

„oh.“

OH.

„so i was right!“

he jumps at my shout and a few birds fly up around us.

„i- well i don’t know. maybe. was that why you were fighting?“

„no. i still don’t know why we were fighting. were we even fighting?“ „your face said fight.“

„hm. maybe.“ i groan and hit my head against the log behind me multiple times.

„this is horrible.“

he laughs quietly at my despair.

„where did Jacob go?“

„dunno. maybe the docks. i see him there most of the time when he’s not working.“

„because him and Emma always met there.“ „so you mean?“ „they fucked on ya docks Ryan.“ „fuck?“ „well i dunno. isn’t that what you do with summer flings.“

„i think that is a spectrum.“

„huh. well my spectrum is limited, i mostly had dates that went shitty and some short relationships that were also shitty.“ „because they weren’t Jakey-poo.“ someone yells behind me and we both jump.

Kaitlyn jumps over the log and falls down next to me with a grin. „hey there, sulkerbun, why so pissed? finally realised something?“ „fuck oooooooff.“ that nickname was what Jacob and Kaiti always call me when i’m confused with my feelings and hide away. which i do…quite often.

Kaitlyn laughs.

„maybe you should have realised sooner, since you can’t live out your romance at home.“

„ugh. it’s not a romance.“

„Ryan? it’s totally a romance right?“

Ryan nods slowly but hesitantly.

„fuck you both.“

„hey just because it’s the last day doesn’t mean that you can swear like a sailor. also Ryan is the sailor so he should swear.“

„i don’t…swear…“

„guyyyys.“ i whine and Kaitlyn and Ryan come back to me.

„let’s just ignore that issue until we go home, alright?“

„like you did for the last 16 years?“ „Kaitlyn i will strangle you in your sleep.“

„it’s the truth Hunbun. i should know, i’ve been watching you two dance around since kindergarten.“

„no. i’m confused since yesterday. nothing before that.“

„really?“ Ryan and her ask at the same time, „Yes? i should know? i know my feelings. you don’t.“ i cross my arms defensively.

„how come you go into hyper focus every time Jacob walked off with Emma?“ „because i was working?“

Ryan squints at me and twists his mouth like he wants to say something but doesn’t.

„you guys are not helpful!“ „we’re not trying to be. well i’m not. Ryan?“ „no…not…really,“ he smirks.

„ugh“. i try to stand up but Kaitlyn holds me back by my arm.

„i’m joking. just a little teasing. i earned that since you two have been idiots since at least high school.“

„no?“

„yes. because,“ she stands up and prepares for her monologue, while i give Ryan a helpless look which he doesn’t return.

„freshman year. first party. Jacob is a hawk, every boy that come into your perimeter is dead.“

„not really.“

„i’m speaking, (Y/N).“

i close my mouth again and cross my arms again.

„then, sophomore. you’re an established cheerleader. he gives everyone, that looks at you with a bit of lust a piece of his mind; everyone from his team that you date is on the bench until coach moans about it. he never dated anyone. how come?“

„because of his parents.“

„yes and. because his one and only is too stupid to notice him.“

„I’m not stupid.“

„yes. just blind.“

„Kait.“

„shush.“

i throw up my arms and point towards the herd of children on their way.

„we have to interrupt your monologue.“

Kaitlyn sighs and gives me one last, universally understood look before straightening up and welcoming the kids.

Ryan and I stand up before the kids fall all over us and Dylan with his guitar takes Ryan from me.

A/N: deny deny deny, what works with the cops surely works here too :)

[shurisneakers]

harmless (i)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)

Warnings: cursing, nonsense writing

Word count: 1.5k 

A/N: listen i just needed something to keep my mind busy and a perry the platypus!bucky and dr. doofenshmirtz!reader was the only thing i could think of. dont have any high expectations from this series, you will be sorely disappointed.

If you have any ideas for this series, lemme know!! it’d be cute to write!!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Series Masterlist

Bucky Barnes, for all intents and purposes, is edgy. 

His SHIELD salary is definitely enough to afford him a simple beanie, gloves even if he’s that eager. His long hair, though a spectacle in itself, isn’t as good at keeping away the cold as he claims it to be. 

It’s a personal choice, a fashion statement even, to be roaming the streets in a long flimsy t-shirt that does nothing to accentuate his broad shoulders, and tactical pants that look a little too comfortable. 

It’s cold. He says he likes it, to appease his blond haired best friend who insisted that he wear a cardigan at least. He won’t like it in a while, but he would never admit it.

The bike ride to the other side of town for a minor mission takes longer than he expected. The wind rushing by gets his adrenaline racing. 

Official missions are long and gruelling, and oftentimes not fun. But it gives him a purpose.

It’s easy, therefore, to find him brooding when he’s not on one. 

No one wants their room to be on the receiving end of Bucky’s stress-cleaning sessions. His baking is more appreciated.

So when there’s news of a small time villain creating havoc again, it made sense that he volunteered to go sort it out. No one else wanted the job. They’d all been at it before. 

SHIELD didn’t seem particularly bothered either. 

“It’s not that serious, Barnes.”

“I’m going.”

“Just stop her from doing whatever dumb plan she has today. She seems to have a new one every week.”

“Can I-”

“This is not an assassination mission.”

“Fine. Can I-”

“No.”

“Fine.”

He didn’t know what to expect. He had an idea of how they should be. Smaller villains tended to be more aggressive, vicious to prove their point. They were here to stay.

He wears his regular gear. Enough knives to make a butcher look away in shame, and guns including, but not limited to, his biceps.

He finally pulls the bike to a stop a few metres away, leaving it out of reach in case things got too out of hand. He didn’t want to have to walk back to the Tower, and his friends, as much as they loved him, would never go out of their way to pick him up. Little shits. 

The address is a dingy, plain concrete house near an old construction site. It was flat and felt more like an afterthought than an actual building. It looked more like an abandoned Walmart than an actual villain lair. 

The only entrance is the door in the front. He counts to three, lifting his leg to kick it down.

It falls down ungracefully, loud and creaky like it was bound to the doorframe by rust. 

The only light source inside is a green light. All the way at the other end on an elevated platform is a desk and a chair facing away from him. He can’t see much other than that.

Someone’s laughter comes back loud and booming. He raises his gun, feet apart in a defensive stance. 

“I’ve been expecti-” the voice pauses mid-sentence- “Did you just kick down my door?”

He looks behind him to where the wooden piece is on the floor. He certainly did.

He can finally see you as you stand up, green light illuminating your face. You reach over to the side, pressing a few switches. 

He squints when all the lights turn on, pulling the both of you from darkness. 

“Dude!” you cry out, face twisting into what only could be described as a mix of horror and disdain. “What’d you do that for?”

He doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t lower his gun either.

“You’re an Avenger, just fuckin’ pick the lock or something. This is expensive!” 

He only watches as you whine, looking beyond him at your now demolished entrance. You take a few steps closer, jumping down from the elevated platform.

“Insurance isn’t going to cover this.” You drag your palm across your fist before extending it towards him. “Pay up.”

He wasn’t sure if he heard you right.

“What?” he finally asked, voice gruff.

“All you superheroes go around, destroying walls and cars in the name of world peace like you own the damn thing. Not today, bitch boy. Pay up.”

He doesn’t have his wallet with him. He didn’t expect to need it.

“I’m supposed to be stopping you.” 

“You can do that once you pay for my door.” 

You sound resolute, unshaken. A little annoyed. There’s what appears to be a gun in your hand, although it’s unlike any weapon he’s seen before.

“What’s your plan?” Bucky looks at your hand. Your stare follows his. You lift the thing up and he tenses.

“I was going to freeze some jerk but now my plan is to get you cancelled on Twitter.” 

“Why?” his eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“Local superhero destroys property of tax paying citizen for no good reason.”

“I mean-” he shakes his head, discarding what you’re saying, “-why were you going to freeze someone?”

“Because I wanted to. But you’ve ruined the mood now, so that won’t happen.”

He blinks, lowering his weapon when he realises you weren’t making any attempt to move. “What’s your ulterior motive?”

“Nothing! I just wanted to mildly inconvenience that stupid fuck for being such a prick.”

He doesn’t know what to say. 

“Is that the freeze ray?” Bucky asks instead, raising his gun when he realises there’s a very real chance he could end up like his best friend. 

“You got a problem with it?” You hold it up carelessly. 

“I can’t let you use that.”

“That’s all you’re going to do?” you huff, “Is this what you call an intervention? This is so boring.”

“Give me the freeze ray and no one has to get hurt.” 

“No one was going to get hurt in the first place, genius. All this does is slow him down for 5 minutes so he misses the subway.”

There’s nothing technically that evil about what you’re doing. He doesn’t even know how you ended up on SHIELD’s radar. He gets why no one was particularly driven to take this seriously.

“And for fuck’s sake put that gun away. You’re not scaring me.” 

He doesn’t oblige, even though something tugs at him, telling him that you’re speaking the truth. 

“Here, take the stupid thing.” You don’t bother waiting for his response, bending over and sliding the gun towards his feet. “I’ll find another way to get back at that dickhead.”

It hits his boot with a small thud. He looks down. Its design is ridiculously comical, like you ripped it straight out of a kid’s TV show. 

“Next time, bring some drama. Wear a cape or something.” You wave him off. “Now get out of my lair. I need to fix the door.”

“You don’t have another one of these lying around, do you?”

“Why, do your friends want one too?” The glare you give him is dangerous. He doesn’t react to it. “No, it’s limited edition. I don’t build the same thing twice.”

“You have others?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?” A smile grows on your face, dropping as quickly as it arrives. “SHIELD will tell you if I do. Now leave.”

Bucky looks at the freeze ray in his hand. He supposes his job is done. He was told to stop you, but you didn’t seem to have any inclination to go on with your plan.

“You can ask them if you want, they know about me.” You roll your eyes. “Go ahead, call them.”

He doesn’t want to take a chance. As odd as the situation is, it’s still novel and he isn’t quite sure how to deal with it.

He tucks your weapon under his arm, pressing his phone to his ear.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” Maria’s voice is crisp as ever.

“I confiscated a... freeze ray.” He feels ridiculous even saying it. “But I’m going to bring her in to SHIELD headquarter-”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“But we can’t trust-”

“We’ve been keeping tabs on her for a while. She’s more or less harmless. You can take the rest of the night off, Sergeant.”

He cuts the call, not entirely at ease with the smug, expectant look on your face. 

Still, he couldn’t disobey direct orders.

“I’m gonna... go.” He mentions towards the gaping hole in the wall.

“That would be ideal, yes.” You nod, crossing your arm over your chest.

“Okay.” He hesitates, but finally takes a step backwards. He peeks over his shoulder as he leaves, but finds you swivelled away from him again. 

He steps back outside. The cold greets him again like an old friend. The weight of his weapons feels stupidly embarrassing now. 

It’s a long drive back to the Tower. He keeps replaying the entire story in his mind. He’s unsure of whether he made the right call, but no one else really seemed to care. 

He had seen weirder things. It came with the gig.

He leaves it at that.

“How’d it go?” Steve asks him when he walks into the living room.

“T’was fine,” he answers, toying with the stupid device he took from you. Maybe he would test it on Clint. He had been getting annoying lately. Breathing too much in Bucky’s general direction.

A part of him feels guilty for his carelessness towards your building. The other part is just bewildered. 

That night he looks up the cost it takes to replace a door, making a mental note to draw some money from the ATM soon.

Next part

[yutahoes]

Music, Dance

loosely inspired by the lyrics of Music, Dance by NCT 127

pairing : gunman! Yuta x stripper! Reader

genre : smut, slight fluff

warning : Alcohol, Lap Dance, Slight striptease, Teasing, Lots of hickeys, Breast fondling and sucking, Oral - Female and Male Receiving, Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Gun, Mention of killings, Drugs, Cursing

(I would also like to warn you about a badly written scenario with a badly written smut 😅)

word count : 5.5k

(Please forgive me. I went all out and crazy over this 😭)

summary : You are his star, the hottest, the shiniest. He is your music, the only one you wanted to dance to.

For @neosmutcollective ‘s 3rd Event: Risqué

She's the star. The gem shining brighter than the lights illuminating the place. 

And his gaze can't leave her. 

The way she walked to the platform, full of confidence with a cocky expression, attracted him. She knew full well that all eyes were on her. And they are, as they should be. 

She smiled at the people before holding the pole on stage, swaying her hips along with the bass music booming through the speakers. The flickering lights made her sultry movements shine. Her haughty smile at the men who crave for her, made him breathless. As her body swayed on the music, she playfully attempted to remove her red brassiere which made the men holler. 

Who wouldn't? She's perfect. Her voluptuous body. Her sinful movements. She's addicting to look at. A real jewel. Her eyes caught his and she winked, making him smirk. A strain on his pants is evident. All this, because of her. Only her. 

His star. 

--

She smiled the moment she came inside the door of the private room. "You're here…" she started, strutting in red high heels. "Senpai." 

Yuta smirked. He might be here too often. But can he blame himself when this is the only place he can go tonight? "You don't like it?" She laughed, sitting beside him on the red velvet couch. She poured beer on his half-filled glass, drinking some and leaving a red lipstick mark on the glass then handing it to him. "You're wearing lipstick tonight." He claimed, drinking beer on the same glass. 

"I'm not in the mood for some action." She rolled her eyes, standing up. He watched as she sway her hips, walking in her red high heels to where the audio player of the room is. "The usual, isn't it?" She didn't wait for his answer as she played a sultry song with piano and keyboards in the background. He leaned on the couch, putting down the glass of beer to fully focus on her.  

The girl went up to the table, her heels clicking across the hard wood while slowly turning around the pole of said table. Her eyes stared at him, those black orbs pulling him in. Sensually, she swayed her hips downward. Her fingers majestically grasping the pole. He was enticed. Her seductive gaze. Her haughty expression. It made his pants tighter.

Noticing this, she raised an eyebrow then parted her legs in front of him while sitting on the edge of the table. She stretched one leg, her heel gliding to his thigh to his crotch. Yuta gasped. “Do you like this, senpai?” Her voice was low, laced in sex. She played with the bulging in his pants using her foot as he closed his eyes in pleasure.  

The music stopped that made her chuckle. "It’s three am, I'm done.” He’s close. Too close. “Do you need anything else?" He glared at her. She's really something. “Next time, come earlier.” She said with a smirk then showed her palm. Yuta was chuckling as he opened his wallet to pull some cash as a tip for her but she took some more from his wallet that made him shake his head. “I’ll wait for you, senpai.” She winked before standing up and walking out of the door. 

Yuta shook his head, chuckling to himself. She’s one of a kind. 

--

"Where have you been?" Doyoung asked as soon as he entered the door to their hideout. "Taeyong hyung is looking for you." 

Yuta dropped his keys on the table, opening the suitcase full of armed weapons. He took one gun, reloading some bullets. "Where?" 

"27th street," Doyoung said while looking at his computer, "12th building." The older smirked, cocking the gun he's holding. "Are you going to bring just that?" Yuta pointed his gun to the dummy on the side, pulling the trigger that the bullet shot through the middle of the dummy's forehead. 

Things were pretty bad in the 12th building. But he's not a hired gunman if he ran away. It was just two big men, why is Taeyong so scared of them? Without even a sweat, he shot both guys on the head. "Where were you?" The leader asked, getting the suitcase full of money then another suitcase with the drugs in it. "Are you with that girl again? I swear Yuta, one day I will hunt that girl down…" 

He pointed the gun on Taeyong's head, "Do that TY, and I swear the next bullet I'll shoot will be in your brain."

"So you're already crazy for this girl?" He teased but Yuta just glared at him. "Call Jaehyun, ask him to clean this up." The gunman hissed. He hated this. 

--

The next time came earlier than expected. There wasn’t much to do in the organization anyways so he watched her in her stuff, being other men’s eye candy. The thought that these sleazy men were putting their hands on her made his blood boil that he’s suddenly annoyed now. Should he kill someone today? He's been in a sour mood lately. 

“You’re early.” The girl teased as she entered the door in her red ensemble and high heels. Her lips were flaming red that made him hiss, no action. “You look unwell.” 

She swayed her hair as she opened the audio player for another instrumental music. “I’m not in a good mood today.” She turned to him, her tongue swiping along her bottom lip. 

“I can change that.” She smirked then knelt on the couch that she’s sitting on his lap. “Can you pay extra today?” Yuta nodded and she smiled. “Remove my lipstick,” she ordered. He looked at her in confusion, why wear that if she wanted it removed? “Kiss me.” 

He smirked. “That’s against the club rules.” 

“I make my own rules.” Her voice is confident. She wanted this. “Kiss me, senpai.” He didn’t need to be told twice as he leaned in to place his lips on her. She rolled her eyes when he broke the kiss, “You kiss like a dad saying goodnight to his daughter.” She leaned in to suck his bottom lip, making Yuta gasp. Her lips were so soft, her tongue slithering inside him tasting like mint, lime, and alcohol. When she break away from the kiss, she tapped his cheek. “That is how you kiss.”

She really does know how to turn around someone’s mood. But had she done this with other guys? It’s against the rules to touch a dancer inappropriately. The reason why, even if he wanted to touch her, his hands remain on his side. Naturally, it’s also against the rules to kiss the dancer, moreover sex. And she’s willing to break those rules for some cash. Is she in dire need of money? 

“I still have my lipstick,” she said while swiping her thumb against her bottom lip, a faint red stain can still be seen. “This is trouble.” He looked curiously at her. But her, wearing lipstick is so hot. “I can’t mark you.” Her voice was low, seductive. 

“Why not?”

Her lips were automatically placing small kisses on his jaw. “Your wife will see.” Yuta laughed, funny of her to think that he has a wife. "You don't? A girlfriend then?" He shook his head. 

She looked surprised and he chuckled. "Why would I be here if I have a girlfriend?" 

She raised an eyebrow at that. "You'll be surprised at how many guys here have girlfriends and wives." She sat properly to face him. "So have you danced before?" Yuta gave her a curious look. Danced? "Don't tell me you're a virgin, senpai." 

Is that what it meant? He smirked, shaking his head. "Have you danced before?" 

She beamed at that. "That's my job." She leaned closer, her lips on his neck. She sucked on his skin, letting her tongue lick the spot before kissing it. "Maybe you just need to find the correct music to dance along." She did the same to the other side of his neck, him groaning at the warmth of her mouth. 

The girl had to smile at her masterpiece, giggling at the purple marks she did to him. "It's three am. Your time is up." Her fingers trailed from his neck down to his clothed chest then to the tent of his pants, taking time in playing with his growing bulge. "You have to go back before those marks disappear, senpai." 

But his focus was on her middle finger rubbing the tip of his clothed member. He muttered a breathy curse that made her smile. Her fingers moved up to his torso that made him open his eyes. "I'll see you soon, senpai." She sucked on his bottom lip while standing up. The lack of contact made him sigh, breathing heavily as she walked out the door. 

He wanted her, so bad. 

--

The guys were staring at his neck when Yuta entered their safehouse, grinning like wolves to themselves. "What?" He asked, pissed off, then sat on the vacant spot on the chair next to Jaehyun.

Taeyong just shook his head before handing out his phone to Johnny and Doyoung. "Get ready for our next transaction two days from now." It was passed to both Jaehyun and Yuta that made the latter surprised. 

"Club Fancy?" He asked which made Taeyong nod. 

Why there? Of all the clubs in town. Why does it have to be that club? "We need you there Yuta if something happens," Johnny ordered. And he wished nothing happened. He doesn't want anything bad to happen. Especially to her. 

--

The lights were flickering as different women grace the stage with their seductive moves. But none of them fascinate Yuta. Weirdly, there are five of them in one area, drinking slowly and cautious of the surrounding. Someone here is their enemy tonight. 

When the speakers boomed a sensual song and a silhouette of the girl on the platform can be seen, Yuta sighed. “They won’t come. Let’s go.” But the four just stare at him then at the girl who was shining under the spotlight. The Japanese man hissed as he sat down, why would she wear that set tonight? All black leather, with a garter belt and pantyhose, black stilettos showing off her confidence. She's out here to take everyone's attention. 

“That’s your girl?” Johnny asked and he glared at him. 

“Let’s have a little show,” Taeyong exclaimed and Jaehyun chuckled. 

Yuta was pissed off at this point. He’s sure they’re just teasing him. Is the transaction in this club even real? Instead of enjoying himself through her little striptease, he was more than worried. He doesn’t trust these guys. What if they do something to her? 

Her eyes were glancing around, illuminated by the stage lights, as if looking for someone. Her gaze kept on looking at the area where he usually sits alone. A warm feeling crept up his body. Is she looking for him? Surprisingly, his eyes met hers and she smirked before twirling around the pole to give attention to other men worshipping her on her feet. She is. 

Once the set was finished, he told them to leave already but it was Johnny who teased that he just wanted a private time with ‘his girl’. That sounded nice. But she’s not his. 

She passed by their table with other girls and her manager but she stopped in front of them. "Senpai," she greeted that made the other guys snicker. "You're back early," Yuta smirked at her. "And you brought friends." Her eyes traveled on each of his colleagues' faces as if memorizing it. 

"It's an official business." 

"Here?" She asked then raised an eyebrow at him. "And I thought I could spend some alone time with you." She said loud enough for the other guys to hear. They only smiled knowingly at that. 

Does she really have to do it today? But two can play this game. "You want to spend some alone time with me?" 

"Of course, you're my favorite." Damn it, she's so good. He smirked at that. Her favorite. "Finish your business. I'll see you at six am later." She flipped her hair before following the group of girls to the other table. Six am? The club is already closed at that time. 

Fuck, he thought. "We need to finish early." 

--

It's two hours past the assigned time when the five decided to leave the club. Yuta's eyes wandered to her before leaving the club, another male's hand on her thigh that pissed him off. 

Taeyong stopped on his tracks when ten other guys, all clad in black, blocked their way. Yet, even if three of them are skilled in guns it's still no match to ten amateur shooters. Yuta was once again pissed off that he suffered a gunshot wound on his shoulder. Totally a first. 

He was lucky that police sirens can be heard that made everybody scram out of the place. Even if he wanted to come back inside, to make sure she's safe and to see her, he can't. Not when Johnny is already dragging him to the car while muttering how stupid it is that he got hurt. 

It annoyed him. Did he really think that he wanted this? What annoyed him the most is that he can't see her. Will she be waiting for him? Should he just go to the club and come clean to her? Tell her he's shot and maybe he can bring her to his place. But damn, with his injury he can't do anything with her. Why doesn't he even know anything about her? Name. Number. None. 

As much as it annoyed him, he waited until the bandages are gone and the wound is completely healed. Until he knew that he can hold her in his arms. He pondered whether to watch her perform, ask for a private lap dance once again, or just wait for her. Yet in the end, he wanted her alone so he waited until six am for her. Unsure if she’s here today. 

What should he tell her? Sorry that she had to wait. Did she wait? Tell her that he’s been shot. But she will surely ask what he does for a living, what happened. Is he ready to tell her everything? That he’s an evil man, a greedy man who kills people just to spend some time with her. 

There are two things that can happen when she finds out the truth. First, she’ll avoid him like the plague. He’s a dangerous man, he’ll understand. Second, she’ll stay and enter his world. And that scared him more. 

But when she went out of the club, he stopped then gaped at her. She looked different in the natural light, with less make-up and more clothes. If possible, she’s prettier. A contrast to the fox she is inside the club, an angel. In no time, he was out of his car that surprised her. She looked surprised. “Long time no see.” 

“Sorry.” The only thing he can mutter right now. “Things happened.” 

“What things?”

He can’t. If she finds out about it, she’ll be in trouble. He can’t risk that. “Just things.” He mumbled. She raised an eyebrow at him, arms crossed on her chest. “Do you need a ride home?”

A smirk appeared on her lips. “I think I want to ride something else.” Fuck, he really can’t escape her. 

--

Yuta wasn’t sure why of all the places, he brought her to his apartment. The girl marveled at how elegant everything looked, plopping herself on his couch. Yuta went to the kitchen to bring out two glasses and wine that made her giggle. Early morning and wine. “This is one amazing crib,” she exclaimed, eyes not leaving the interior of the house. “You’re a really wealthy man.” He shook his head. He’s not. “So what do you do for a living?” She asked casually, pouring wine on both glasses. 

“Things.” He took the glass of wine, drinking it without removing his eyes on her. He sat on the chair opposite her, the wooden coffee table separating them both.  

She smirked. "Will you tell me in exchange for something?" She asked in that haughty voice of her which made him nervous. Why is she so interested in the things he does? She arched her hips, pulling down her panty from under her skirt. He watched as she removed one leg then raised her other leg that has the fabric of her underwear, hanging on her foot. "So what do you do for a living, senpai?” 

Yuta laughed before taking her underwear then holding her foot. He kissed her calf, licking the skin where his lips were earlier. “I steal jewelry..” His kisses went up to her leg that he’s now kneeling in front of her. “I rob banks.” By now, his lips and tongue were on her thigh. “I deal with drugs.” 

He sucked on the skin near her throbbing core, his head under her pleated skirt. “I kill people.” A gasp can be heard but he wasn’t sure if it was because his tongue entered her or his confession. She tastes so good that it’s addicting. Her moans and her scent, indulging his senses. He held both her legs to wrap them around his head, pushing him further inside her. Her hands thread on his hair, tugging it and he smirked as he felt her clenching on him. 

He removed his tongue inside her then flicked her clit that earned a moan from her. She looked so erotic: hips arched, lips agape and, eyes closed. He wanted her real bad. He sucked on her clit, pushing a finger inside her to stimulate the spot that made her scream in no time. Her moans of pleasure were so stimulating that he pushed her to her limit. 

She shook in orgasm but he kept his finger inside her, even inserting another one. He sat on the table while watching her ride his fingers. “Senpai,” she said in a breathy moan. “Are you going to kill me?” Another finger was inserted and she grabbed his arm, the wounded arm from before. Yuta smiled, he’s relieved that he waited or else this will be trouble. Her nails dig on his flesh, turning him on. "Senpai," she called as her body squirmed for her second orgasm. 

Her breathing was ragged, heavy pants against his shoulder. “You’re really going to kill me.” 

Yuta laughed, a sound vibrating against the walls of the house. “I can’t do that to you.” The girl tapped the space on the couch next to her and Yuta obeyed, sitting next to her. She sat on his lap, her wet core rubbing against his thigh. “You really want to ride something else?” 

She grinned. “I feel safe in your lap.” That startled him. He’s not a safe man. There’s blood in his hands, a lot of people he killed. Her fingers grazed the scar on his arm. “Were you shot? That’s why it took a long time for you to come back to the club?” 

“Were you waiting?” 

“I wish you wouldn’t do something like this again.” Her lips hovering against his, “If I give you something, can you stop meeting with them?”  

Yuta smirked. She slowly removed her shirt, his hands traveling on her back and stopping to where her brassiere is. He marveled at how soft her skin is, that she is his for today. His mouth found her naked breasts, his hands on the curve of her waist. He didn't know how he managed to get her inside his room without breaking their steamy kiss but he did. A chuckle escaped his lips when she pushed him to bed, shimmying out of her skirt that she's naked now. She found her place on his lap once again, hands trailing under his shirt. 

He loved how dominant she looked while slowly removing his shirt, her fingers tracing the tattoo he had. "So hot." She whispered, licking his earlobe then heading south to trace the inks on his skin with her tongue. But she's hotter in this position that he can't help but jerk his hip up to grind on her. She moaned before licking the lines visible on his abdomen as her hands started unbuckling his belt. 

His remaining clothing was quickly discarded, his cherry cock springing hard for her. He watched as she rubbed her wet pussy lips against his length as if teasing him, staring in her haughty expression. Yuta groaned when she slowly sat on him, entering her core with ease. She's so wet and so tight. His self-control thinning out to not fuck her mercilessly on the mattress. She started riding him, controlling their thrusts. One hand was holding Yuta's chest for support, the other on the headboard as her body bounced above his. The man licked his lips. Her breasts jiggling at the motion, her mouth agape as soft whimpers can be heard, her eyes closed tight while her head rolled back. Fuck, she is so hot. 

He sat up, holding her waist to help her ride his cock while his mouth started to attack her mounds causing her to move forward. His cock hit a different angle that made her moans louder. He could feel her clenching on him that made him smirk. Already? Yuta started jerking his hip up, meeting her thrusts halfway that made her scream. His control is now gone. He just wanted her to orgasm, to make her shake in his arms. 

Her body was closer to his, nails digging on his shoulder that made him groan against her ear. She came with a shudder but he didn't stop thrusting inside her tight core. He could feel himself getting thicker by the second and with another thrust, came inside her. His lips were on her, whispering apologies for cumming inside her but she just shook her head, smiling at him. 

"Shouldn't I know your name by now?" She whispered, breathing heavily beside him. Her fingers started trailing the tattoo marks in his skin. "I can't call you senpai forever, you know?" 

Yuta chuckled at that. "If you find out my name, you wouldn't be able to escape me." 

"What if I don't want to escape?"

The guy smirked at her haughtiness. "Yuta," he whispered, lips hovering against her. "And I want you to shout that name when you cum." 

The girl giggled when he hovered above her in bed, his mouth started sucking supple marks on her skin. Her fingers thread on his hair, tugging on the strands as she kept on moaning his name over and over. It turned him on, knowing that it was her who's giving her this much. "Yuta." she whispered, “Please, Yuta." 

He started kissing her breasts then licking up to her neck. He held both her legs wrapping them on his waist before thrusting into her so deep that she screamed while fisting the bedsheets. "Now move, Yuta." He kept on slamming into her as she scratched his arm in pleasure, repeatedly whispering his name in every thrust. "Oh my God. Yuta!" She shouted while he kept hitting her pleasure spot, pushing his cock into her so deep that she started shaking in orgasm while calling for him. 

He kept giving her multiple orgasms in exchange for her calling his name, only his name as if chanting a magic spell. Yuta kept filling her up, kissing every skin in her body. He liked this feeling. That she's his. That they're the only ones who matter in the world. And he wished every day could be like this. He needed to stop working with them, put his life into order and get her out of the club. They can start a new life together and every day will be exactly like this. 

“Will you stop dancing in the club if I promise to stop doing this?” Her gaze on him was warm, looking surprised that he even said those words to her. “Let’s run away. Just you and me.” 

A heavy breath escaped her lips. "I can't." She nuzzled her head on his chest. "I still have to finish something." 

"Then I'll wait for you." 

--

He let her do what she wanted. He let her go her way, whatever she wanted, that's her. She knew where she's attracted. To the stage, with everyone's eyes on her. And Yuta had no problems with that. He'll wait for her, he promised that. 

"Why are you here?" She asked, smiling like a teenage school girl then running to him in her heels. "Did you miss me, Yuta?" she grinned, sitting on his lap. His hands were automatically on her waist, like previous nights when she did the same action. 

He thought he was okay with her like this. Clearly, he's not. 

His tongue darted out to lick a spot on her neck. "You have a hickey," he claimed while touching the spot he just licked, a faint purple bruise can be seen. 

She gulped hard. "The client paid extra so I thought it's alright." 

"Do you think it's alright?" She shook her head but he gripped her hair, pulling it. "You wanted to be a slut?" A glint appeared in her eyes and she nodded that surprised him. "Do you know what sluts do?" 

She gasped. "That's against club rules." 

"I'll pay extra since you love money so much." She gulped when he started unbuckling his belt, revealing his semi-hard cock. "Now, suck, my slut." She was kneeling in front of him. The warmth of her mouth engulfing him, the softness of her tongue in contrast with his hardness. Her hand gripped on the base of his cock as the other played with his balls. "Fuck, that's so good." He growled, tugging on her hair. 

She started using her tongue to lap him up from the shaft and tasting the precum seeping on his tip. Her hands started jerking his cock then licked the underside of his balls that made his eyes widened. Fuck, that is different. Where the hell did she learn all these techniques? A smirk appeared on her face when she returned to sucking his cock in such force that made him groan. He's so close. 

The girl started deep-throating him, pulling back then bobbing her head once again. Yuta groaned at the sensation when she bobbed her head faster, eager to get him to his release. "God." Yuta groaned, saliva dripping on his balls. "You're so good." His hand tightened on her hair as she deepthroats him once again, eyes rolling back as he felt his release that made his body tremble. 

She slurped his cum, even lapping up the tip of his cock to clean him up. He saw her gulp, swallowing the heavy load in her throat then placed a soft kiss on his cock. His thumb wiped her mouth and she sucked on the finger that made him smile. "That was the best blowjob ever." 

The girl licked her lips then smirked. "And it will cost you." Yuta took out his wallet but she slapped his hand, sitting on his lap once again. "You're gonna have to fill me up later." Is it a cum fetish? Why is she like this? 

Yuta nodded then leaned in to kiss her, tongue exploring her wet cavern. His phone rang that halted their make-out. What the hell? Why now? She stared at him and he just looked at his phone for a while, a message from Taeyong. 

He groaned which was immediately drowned by her lips, her hand taking his phone away. "What's your plan?" She whispered but he only stared at her when another message came. Taeyong gave the name of a building, telling him to come immediately. "Stay." 

"This is the last time." He kissed her once again. "I'll come back real quick." She called his name in a desperate attempt to stop him. "I promise, this is the last time." 

"Yuta, I have to tell you something." 

"Later." He kissed her again then springing into his feet, leaving her on the couch. "Wait for me." And he was out of the door in no time, phone on his ear.  

--

Another dealing and he didn't know exactly why the five of them were needed this time. When police sirens were heard, he already knew why. They're cornered. A total first. Who the fuck caused this? And why now? 

With Doyoung's quick thinking, he and Yuta had an escape on one of the backdoors. But the younger was easily caught by one of the armed men, even overhearing that they were caught because of Doyoung's phone. Yuta escaped outside, watching as the four were held by bulky policemen. This is bad. He even left his gun inside because of the commotion. 

"Stop right there.” He heard someone say. He was about to turn to know who it was when the voice continued, “Hands up.” followed by a clicking sound of a gun and cold metal on his nape. He followed the order, raising his hand above his head. A hand went on his waist as if looking for something that made him smirk, obviously a woman’s hand. 

“Go south. I might have been hiding something.” The metal behind him was pressed on the back of his head that made him chuckle. “I can give you a better night, you know?” 

“I know.” That voice. “Now move, Yuta.” Her. 

He was pushed on a wall, a gun still pointed at the back of his head. When he felt it gone, his hands were bound behind him as the cold metal can be felt on his wrists. Handcuffs. “Who are you exactly?” He wasn’t surprised when he turned to see who it was. Of course, it’s her. His star. "Is this your plan?" She remained expressionless, one hand getting out her phone while the other was on his chest to stop him from going somewhere. "All of this, pretending to be a stripper and fucking me, just to trap us? Am I an easy prey for you?" 

There was surprise in her features as she looked at him. "No, Yuta. You're not." She returned her phone back to her pocket. "You weren't our target at first but you made connections with the syndicate we're after and now, the five of you are under the radar." She explained. "I did warn you to stop meeting up with them." He rolled his eyes at that. "We should be at your place right now if you just did your promise." 

Now that he's staring, he can’t deny that she looks so good in her ponytail and black ensemble. Red lips ruining his focus as his mind whirled on those soft plump lips marking his skin. Her soft skin on his fingertips. Her warmth felt through his body. She looks different when she's serious, more charming. Hotter, even. “I genuinely like you.” 

She stepped closer and his heart skipped a beat at her scent. She’s still addicting. “So do I, Yuta.” 

"Then you should let me go." 

She shook her head. "They already saw you." Her fingers trailed from his shoulder to his chest, making him smirk. “Don’t worry. Please bear with this for a while, I’ll make sure that they will treat you well.” He raised an eyebrow at that, looking skeptical at her words. Can he still trust her? But she leaned closer, her lips sucking on a spot on his neck that made him groan. “You will miss me while in prison." She touched the hickey she just made. "So I guess I’ll have to see you before these marks disappear from your neck.” 

"You can do that?" 

"Be a good boy and I'll just might do that." He can see people walking to where they are. "I might even help you get out of prison." 

"Why are you helping me?" He asked but the girl smirked at him, "You're my music, senpai." 

“Miss Y/N.” A policeman greeted her with a salute. Yuta realized that this was the first time he heard her name. She nodded before two guys held his arm, dragging him away from her. “Chief has been looking for drug organizations for so long. It only needs her so they can get more information for other organizations.” One guy said to the other. 

“Chief was right to name her the star of the police force.” The other claimed. 

Yuta smiled. His gaze fell to her, watching as she was standing in front of someone in another police uniform. She turned to him and their eyes met that instant. Yuta smirked when she winked at him. Truly, one of a kind.   

His star. His music. 

He hoped he could dance with her again. 

[mikkomacko]

Ok thanks. What do you think about Stucky comforting reader for some reason?

A/n: Hiii. I hope this is ok! My first time writing stucky x reader but it was cool. I might just have to do an expanded Stucky fic 👀

~

It's well known throughout the Avengers that y/n is the kryptonite to every super soldier. At least she is to the two super soldiers they know, because only she can turn Steve and Bucky into overbearing boyfriends.

"Sam, do you have eyes on y/n and Nat?"

Steve grunts, kicking his attacker square in the chest and sending the man to the pavement. Bucky's follows closely behind, the former soldier slamming his own attacker into the ground so hard it cracks under his spine. Both lie there in a heap of sweat and blood.

"Sam?" Bucky asks angrily when they receive no response. Behind them, Wands and Tony shift through the rubble and debris of the two buildings that had been attacked, blown to pieces by the terrorist group in front of them. With civilian casualties high, y/n and Nat had taken up the job of evacuating everyone within the threatened area. But it's been too long since he's heard anything from the two through their comms.

"I've got sights on Nat but y/n is no where to be seen."

Another fly over from Sam, this time closer to the ground but still nothing certain on the missing Avenger. "I've got heat signatures in a damaged office building over here but I can't tell if it's her or not."

Steve and Bucky share a look, concerned for their girl as always, and begin heading over to the building.

"Romanoff you better fucking answer!" Bucky spits into his comms, boots crunching in the rubble under his feet.

A static breaks through, followed by the breathless voice of Natasha. "You're not the only one fighting terrorists Barnes," she bites back. "I cleared the west blocks, lost y/n when she went east. I'm guessing her comms are down."

"Was she evacuating the buildings?" Steve asks, approaching the block y/n is supposedly on.

"Think so. The one closest to you guys. She was worried it'd come down from the blast."

Steve and Bucky pick up the pace, relief flooding through them when a group of civilians rushes out of the building y/n was clearing.

"Is anyone still inside?" Steve asks them, while Bucky cranes his head up to look through the shattered windows. Before any of the survivors can answer, the building behind to rumble, the boom of an explosion going off cutting off whatever answer was being given.

Immediately shielding the civilians, Steve looks up in horror just in time to see the building split into two crumpled pieces, the top half collapsing into the building next to it.

~

There's a ringing in her ears, throbbing in her head and the taste of iron floods her mouth. Groaning, she lifts herself up enough to find that she's braced against a column, smoke and dust clouding her vision but she knows that something is off. The world around her has tilted, leaving the walls as the ground beneath her feet.

An explosion, she concludes, racking her brain for what she'd been doing when the bomb went off. A civilian, she remembers, the last one on the top floor, a young intern frozen in fear as battle rang out around him. Forgetting that she lost her comms in a fight earlier, she reaches for ear to call for backup. Instead, she's met with slick, warm blood and a tender skull.

Grey, the boy's name had been Grey. He'd told her during her attempt to guide him out from under his desk.

"I promise I can get you outta here Grey." She had sworn, and she intends to fulfill that. Unsteadily, she rides to her feet, balancing herself on the rubble around her.

"Grey?" She calls out, voice rough. "Grey if you're here I need a noise, a movement, something!"

She strains her eyes, searching through the mess of grey and charred black. Finally, a flash of ash ridden green, the color he'd been wearing. She watches as he rises to his knees, a gash on his forehead and blood dripping from his ears too.

Quick but careful, she makes her way through destroyed desks and crumpled walls until she's close enough to see how utterly screwed Grey is. A window. He's balanced on a cracked window, one surrounding by other empty window panes.

The boy trembles, helpless as his terrified eyes find hers. She burries her panic, doing her best to appear calm and confident.

"It's ok," she comforts, "I just need you stay very still ok? Let me come to you."

Grey nods, lip wavering in fear. Y/n takes a deep breath, hesitantly stepping onto the panel between two broken windows. When it holds her weight easily, she continues.

"Its breaking," Grey says weakly, peering down the splintering window at the street below them. Y/n doesn't get a good look, but she thinks she can make out two familiar men below. Steve and Bucky. Relief floods through her. They'll send Sam, she just needs to get Grey off that window.

"Don't look down," she instructs, "look at me. Keep your eyes on me."

He complies, tear filled eyes meeting hers again. It's a slow progress, checking the beams to find which ones she can walk on. She does her best to distract Grey, telling him of Sam and the boys below, how she knows they'll be up soon to help. Until then, he's gotta trust her.

"I do," he swears, "I trust you."

And there's relief when she gets a window away from him, prepared to quickly tug him to safety after she steadies her feet. But then the ripped half of the building is quivering, dropping a few feet down and the window is breaking before she gets enough time to grab him.

Panicked, she throws herself out of the window after him, left hand gripping the window pane while the right locks around his wrist. The pull in her shoulder is almost paralyzing as his weight comes to an abrupt stop. She's fairly certain it's dislocated or at the least something's torn, but the adrenaline in her veins keeps her grip strong.

"Y/n!"

Her feet dangle wildly, Grey squeezing her hand for dear life as he hangs 60 feet above ground. Steve and Bucky call out for her, something she doesn't quite pick up because she's too busy trying to calm Grey's hyperventilating body. He's wiggling, panicking, legs swinging in a frenzy like they're trying to find solid ground.

"Grey I need you to stop, if you keep moving I'll slip." As if proving her point, the sweat on her palm becomes slippery. He listens, for the most part, but he can't help the way his body quivers and shakes with cries.

"Sam's grounded!" Steve shouts from below, a panic in his voice she's not used to. "Hang on sweetheart, Stark is coming!"

She doesn't answer, can't answer because her muscles and tendons are screaming and burning, begging her to let go, and the fingers in Grey's hold have gone numb. A few more seconds, painfully long seconds, and the sound of the Iron Man suit floods her ears. Another brief moment of relief, one that also doesn't last because Grey has lost his grip and before she can even think of instructing to him to just hold on for one more second, she loses her grip on the boy and his scream overpowers Tony's thrusters as he falls to the pavement below.

~

Tony got her down safely. Caught her mid fall after she'd jumped after Grey in a weak attempt to save him. By the time her feet touch the ground, she's bolting, heading for the backside of the building where the body of the boy sits. The weak swing of her shoulder and the limp in her right leg slows her down, enough for Bucky to easily catch up to her and halt her. She fights his hold, desperate as he shushes and calms her.

Steve follows closely behind, assisting Bucky in taking care of their girl. Somehow, through a haze they get her to the Quinjet, both working on cleaning up her wounds during the painfully silent flight home. Y/n remains dazed and quiet as they take her to her bedroom, getting her in the shower, bandaged and dressed. Bucky is brushing out her wet hair on the edge of the bed while Steve fluffs the pillows when she finally speaks.

"I had him," she says, voice wavering. "I just needed a few more seconds. If I had held on-"

"Don't do that doll," Bucky interrupts sternly, pulling her into his lap. "don't think about the what ifs, you saved so many lives today. You did what you were supposed to."

She doesn't say anything but they know her well enough to know that she still doesn't believe them. Steve moves to sit next to them, wrapping one arm around her and one around Bucky.

"This job doesn't come without casualties sweetheart, we all know that. You stopped as many as you could and we're so proud of you for that."

His words bring her to tears, painful, heart cutting sobs that force both super soldiers to bite back their own tears. They hold her even tighter, soothing her with kisses and promises of making it better, of assuring her that it won't always hurt.

And once she's all cried out, puffy eyes and bones like cooked noodles, they tuck her into the middle of the bed, sandwiching her between their strong, warm bodies. Somewhere safe and comforting, where she can rest knowing they've got her and they won't be letting go anytime soon.

[kyberphilosopher]

Rᴀɴᴄᴏʀ

While the Titans make their way through the district of Trost, a wounded soldier makes an unexpected discovery.  Word Count: 4098 Requested: yes!  Warnings: violence. 

“The word rancor is best when you're not just talking about anger, you're talking about a deep, twisted bitter type of anger in your heart. The open rancor in political discussion prevents cooperation between political parties.

The most helpful way to remember rancor with all its dark, miserable bitterness is to think of how rancor rhymes with canker, as in canker sore, the horrible painful burning on your lip. Or, you might want to remind yourself that rancor has its roots in the word rancid meaning "rotten." Rancor refers particularly to the sort of ill-will associated with resentment, envy, slow-brewing anger, and a very personal sort of hatred.”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Fuck. It hurts.

You collapse into a kneel. Your left knee scuffs against the damp, cold ground, dirtying the leg of your pants and the top of your boot. As your right hand prods the side of your torso, hot, burning pain courses through your veins with a spark. It feels almost as if the entire area is on fire, which you’re able to identify from the time your friend Jean accidentally caused you to burn your elbow over a candle at dinner. 

Still, this is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. This pain... your ribs must be broken. Fuck. 

“Shit,” you hiss to yourself through tight teeth. The hand on your abdomen strengthens its grip against the skin as your head rears back to look up to the sky. It’s cloudy grey, with absolutely no light from the sun peeking through. At first glance, the clouds appear to you as a muddy shade of blue. However, the longer you stare at them, the more you think they might be a cool purple-gray. It’s going to rain, soon. 

It’s too dangerous, being on the ground like this. The tall buildings surrounding you, added to the isolation of the entire premises, makes you feel like you’re at the bottom of a valley. If only you’d been able to catch your balance on the roof. 

Squad 29. Part of the vanguard, although the six of you had only been cadets. None of you were within the top ten. In fact, you’d chalked up your assigned position to just being extra bodies used to buy extra time. Completely expendable. 

Although you’d managed to graduate 15th in your division, the other members of the squad hadn’t heeded your advice. They were a rather close knit group of friends, excluding you and one of the other boys. But those four had been committed to barreling head first into the titan’s mouths, regardless of what better plans there could’ve been to come up with. One of them died immediately. 

You, the most physically adept of the group, killed two titans on your own, and aided in one assist. Then, you and Finn were attempting on taking down a thirteen meter, when an abnormal swatted the both of you like mere flies. You cleared the air, smacking into a distant tiled roof before you could fire an anchor to steady yourself. Even though you attempted to physically compose your legs, you rolled over the side and onto an abandoned market stall. When it broke under you, you dragged yourself to the middle of the street- where you are now. 

But you can’t move. Every intake of air is a piercing stab to your lungs, a thorn in your side, literally. Beads of sweat are beginning to break across your temples, intensified with the concentration of your knitted brows. 

If your ODM gear isn’t broken on some miracle, then how will you survive? You received basic medical lessons, but you’re no healer. If you ran into a healer, would they even help you? Compared to Hanna and Franz, or those friends you’d been assigned with, your life wasn’t worth much. You weren’t associated closely with anyone in the 104th, and you’d neither written, nor received letters from your family in well over three years. The irony is that you’d always thought being a lone wolf had more pros than cons. And now, you may pay the price for it. 

Pop. A single drop of rain erupts in the center of your eyebrows. The first promise of an oncoming storm. 

Your eyes flutter to a close briefly, before reopening. The smell of petrichor floods your senses, invigorating you with memories of spring and dirt. It’s enough to make you want to stand up and finally anchor your way to the high ground, but the slightest movement inflames your ribs all over again. And so no matter how much you wish you weren’t, you clutch the left side of your stomach in the middle of a lonely stone street, crippled in on yourself as you tremble in silent pain. 

Sheets of rain begin to fall, reminding you that natural forces are never far behind. However, it’s not colorful like spring, or pleasant to associate with, like dirt. It’s icy and stark, drenching your hair and clothes in a matter of seconds. 

Get up, you order yourself, but your body does not obey. Get. Up. 

You’ve got more problems than just your ribs. The stiller you are, the more body parts you begin to realize are worse for the wear. Your left wrist feels stiff, like a wheel that can’t rotate full circle. Your right ankle feels limp, like a glass structure on the verge of shattering. But the main problem is in your lungs, because of the damage to your bones. It’s possible that you stabbed your own innards, and now you’re slowly dying. You need that medical attention. 

A particularly sharp inhale turns to a wheeze. “Fuck,” you mutter hoarsely, digging the soles of your boots into the ground beneath you to solidify yourself. 

Little pebbles between the cracks of the hard surface begin to bounce softly, like little tremors. A steady pace of booms fill the air, and the stench of death walks around the corner. 

Lifting your head slightly and craning your neck to the right, you see the shadow of a large, ten meter titan lumbering towards you. With matted, dusty blond hair to its shoulders, you can make out the stain of thick redness running down its potbelly stomach, slowly washing away in the rain. 

“No,” you struggle, now clambering to force yourself off the ground. “Come on- fuck.”

You’re going to die. You’re going to die- you’re going to die. You’re going to die, and they won’t even find your body. You’ll be labeled missing in action, and nobody will know what really happened to you. Not unless you get up. 

A shooting cry for help springs to your veins. Every breath is agony. Your heart lurches, your ribs shaking and burning without any pressure anymore. Your left hand reaches to the ground to hold yourself up, unable to keep yourself balanced on your own. 

No, this is it. You’re done for. 

“Fuck,” you sigh out finally, the acceptance of defeat freeing you. 

The titan’s coming closer. Your head falls back again, and you look up into the pouring precipitation. Quickly, your eyelids blink at a rapid place from the micro knives of wetness piercing into them. The sweat you previously worked up has run away, turning your skin cold.

You wait for your final thought to turn into ‘it was a good life’. But it doesn’t come. In fact, no thought comes to you at all. Your mind is blank, even when you turn to stare in the face of death, whose enormous hand is reaching out to you. 

No thoughts. Just... fuck. 

A fist erupts through the maw of the ten meter. With an explosive pop, something thick showers over you, glooping in your hair and dripping down your nose and into your mouth. Something in your ears click as a hollow, electric roar amplifies itself into the air. As you open your sticky, goo ridden eyelids to look at your grim reaper, you find the beast lifted off the ground by an incredible force. 

Another titan- a muscular one about fifteen meters, with his hand straight through the smaller ones mouth. With long, dark brown hair whipping harshly in the wind and rain, emerald eyes glow like a flame of grass. He is... vicious, and what splattered on you was blood, and it’s burning but you’re too shocked by the sight ahead of you to care. 

The fifteen meter pushes the ten meter off of his wrist with his other hand, before gripping him by the nape and throwing him through the air like nothing more than a ball. 

Your free arm covers your head with fear as you flinch. For a split second, you are shielded from the rain, and can hear the whistling sound of something flying at a quick speed. Even with shut eyes, your vision darkness with the shadow of a large body. And then the ground shakes as the monster collapses with a boom. 

What the hell?

Out of breath, you widen your eyes as you stare at the steaming hulk of flesh. Salty water slips in drops off of strands of your hair. The titan blood covering you begins to evaporate just as you turn to the other titan, breathing through your mouth despite the oncoming pain. 

What the hell?

The fifteen meter leans back on his heels to observe his work of the other titan. His toned, muscular form shines in the glint of the wet rain. His dark hair clings to his neck tightly. When his two rows of teeth open, warm puffs of steam hiss out in a flurry as easily as air. 

Abnormal. He’s gotta be... an... abnormal...

And then he meets your eyes, and it’s all over. 

You watch a large, muscled hand reach out to you. There’s too much pain to move, or panic, or even think. Your life isn’t flashing before your eyes. You’re not thinking of home, family, anything like that. You’re thinking about how the icy rain has stopped falling against you for a brief moment, stopped by the skin of your killer. 

Eyes shut tight as you keep applying pressure on your ribcage. The hood of your sweatshirt lifts up, choking you as your body follows limply. There’s only a few seconds before you can’t feel the rough ground anymore, and you know you’re up in the air. The rain sparks against your skin again, adding to the weight that’s gone straight to your throat and ankles. 

And then...

Your feet touch against a solid again. The hood falls back against your shoulders. Your weight returns to your entire body. That’s a sharp stab against your ribs that makes you grit your teeth and pop your eyes open, but you find that there’s no gaping mouth in front of you. There is no, absolutely no chance, threat of death. 

You’re... on a roof. The Abnormal is drawing his palm away from you, looking down through his dark hair that’s soaked in the salty water from above. His eyes are piercing and intelligent, but they’re not angry. He’s not going to kill you. He’s not going to hurt you. 

As your eyes continuously widen, the Abnormal finally turns away from you. Great booms ring out into the air, the flats of his feet crush the ground beneath him with no effort at all. All the muscles in his back are tensing and shifting, drawing further and further away from you. 

He didn’t kill you. The biggest, strongest titan you’ve ever seen didn’t kill you. Even when it had you between its fingers. And the way he looked at you... it was showing something more than other titans. It was showing intelligence, awareness. If something of this caliber has a bone to pick with its fellow titans, are you really going to slip away this easily?

If you could possibly steer the thing to find your way back to your squad, you could use it to your advantage in the battle. How many humans could you save with this? Could this be enough to take out the Colossal? Or the Armored, even? There’s only one way to find out. 

You’ve made a discovery. This realization alone gives you the motivation you need to push yourself to your feet with a whimper. It’s time to catch up to that thing.

Limping as you pick up your pacing, trying your best to work up an acceleration before firing the anchors of your ODM gear. One hand still held tightly against your side, your fingers squeeze the triggers of your gear. The anchor latches into the skin of Abnormal with a click, albeit just barely, and you fly towards him with as much care as you can. 

You clamber to the top of the muscle, trying to find your footing while still holding your abdomen. One of your hands reaches out to grip onto a lock of brunette hair on the beast like a kind of rope, hoping to steady yourself. Luckily, your ride comes to a stop, shifting its head to acknowledge you. Once more, you hold eye contact, but this time you’re quick to overcome your disbelief. 

Could it understand communication? 

You go to say something, but the pressure on your lungs makes you wince and hiss instead. A gasp falls from the back of your throat- a strangled cry that confirms how serious this injury really is. Something is broken, something is wrong, and you pull on the titans hair as you try to keep yourself steady from falling off and injuring yourself further, and for a split second you think you’ll hurt it. 

“Fuck,” you wheeze out with shut eyes. 

Beside you, you feel the rumbling of a growling breath. The shoulder you stand on shifts, reminding you that your ankle is also pained. When your eyes open again, there’s a hand beside you, reaching out once more. 

You scoot away from it best you can, tugging on the things hair for leverage. It’s grimy, and dirty, but long and soft and slick at the same time. Weirdly enough, it’s better than most of your fellow soldiers hair. 

The Abnormals fingers come into range, and with as much might as you can muster, you slap it away. It barely moves, of course. There’s another growl. The fingers extend again. Another push to shove it away. 

“No,” you strangle out weakly. “Stop it.”

And then he does stop. You twist your head around to meet his eyes once more, but they’re right where you left them- on you. 

“I can stay,” you say hoarsely as your ribs crack uncomfortably. “I can stay.”

The drum of the rain fades into silence. There is only you, and whatever he is, staring at each other with desperation and analyzation. Nothing else exists. Not the battle around you, nor the lives being lost at this very moment. It’s just the promise of life that pushes you to keep going. It’s the new chance of hope that you’ve been given, purely by chance. 

The rain around you comes back to life. It shudders with the wind, loud and clear and explosive. It seems to be on the verge of turning to hail, popping and pricking against rooftops a million times over. It’s making the air colder, more violent. But it’s nothing compared to the way the Abnormal bows its head shortly. It’s nothing compared to the way the Abnormal nods at you. 

“Okay,” you breathe out with disbelief. “Okay.”

A loud, shrieking roar pulls the both of you from your gaze. At the end of the road is a nine meter, with messy short hair and a wide mouth splattered with blood. Beside it is a smaller titan, maybe four meters, on its hands and knees like it’s about to pounce. With those stupid, hated expressions, you can see where your new partner got the strength to rip off a head. 

You pull on the Abnormals hair in preparation. He rears his head back, breathing out steam to the sky. Beneath the soles of your shoes, you can feel its strange skin heating up like a fresh fire. 

At once, your fingers squeeze the triggers of your ODM. It anchors into the wall of a building to the left of the smaller titan. At the same time, your Abnormal companion steps forward, cocking his fist back. 

It takes a lot of strength and teeth gritting to pull both of your blades out. The hand leaving your side makes you feel the inside of your ribs pop. But you hold them behind you, twisting as you turn and make quick work of slicing the nape of the four meter before it can make any moves. It’s still, and then it collapses, smoking. 

Your partner shoves the nine meter into a building. Both his hands pull back into fists, pommeling the thing repeatedly. You click the trigger again, jumping up into the air far above the rooftops all around you. You’re soaring, and coming closer and closer to the titan until you swing out with a whisper. Its head falls back, while your Abnormal lifts his leg to knee it in the chest. 

The Abnormal shows emotions. It shows anger- even after he sees that his foe has been finished off. Prompting you, as you twist to aim your ODM gear again, to wonder if he is even an Abnormal. For all you know, he could be something completely different entirely. But then what is it? What have you discovered here?

You fall back to the shoulder of your partner gracefully. You sheathe both swords, grip onto his hair with one hand, and onto your side with the other. He stops his movements, still breathing out like a rancor human would. 

You learn quickly that it’s better if you don’t try to control him. He’s more efficient when you treat him like a partner, and split up to clear a path for him. So you do. You spring from his shoulder to take out whatever slow, stupid creature crosses your path, though occasionally he moves before you can do so as if he’d rather do it himself. It’s not easy at all with your ribs in the condition that they are, and every movement makes your ankle and wrist click like they’re on the verge of snapping away. They probably are. Breathing, again with your rib problem, is becoming increasingly difficult, and there’s no sign of your squad in sight. 

There’s no soldiers to be seen at all, actually- not even using ODM gear above you. It’s almost like the entire battle has just ended. Maybe everyone died. Everyone, except you, who did not even make the top ten and should be dead anyway. 

You clutch your stomach as you think about this. The great being you’ve come to rely on in the past few minutes cranes his neck to look at you. 

Your eyes close as you breathe as steadily as you can. The stabbing, electrical, unimaginable pain is becoming more and more unbearable by the second. You could’ve pierced a lung, and now you’re slowly dying, with only a foe who’s not even a foe to comfort you. At least you’ve started to like the strange rows of teeth he possesses. Looking at that as you die might make you feel better. 

In one motion, the shadow of a hand covers you. The little pricks of rain have ceased once again, so you open your eyes to look up. Sure enough, a behemoth of a hand shields you like an umbrella, keeping you from soaking any further. 

You look to meet his eyes. Before, they were all emerald green. But now, you can see flecks of teal in them. They’re strangely beautiful, almost otherworldly. And they remind you of something you can neither define nor place. Something you’ve never seen before. Cool toned, but also... warm. 

“What the hell are you?” you whisper out, half to yourself. 

Large fingers brush against your hood softly. It’s tugged up and placed over your head as gently as the giant can muster, the raindrops stuck to the cloth falling into your eyes. Maybe you won’t die. Maybe you really, really won’t. 

The Abnormal growls again, though it’s still distant and none threatening. It’s more like a vibration, really. This thing is the embodiment of anger and vengeance, and yet its saved your life multiple times. You should be... you should be dead. How many times have you thought that today?

Your ribs bring you back to reality. Breathing a little too inwardly proves to be your undoing, nearly collapsing over as you grab at the area. It stings, it stabs, and you choke on your own throat with tightly shut eyes. 

Yes, I should be dead. The proof is right here.

There’s one movement. It’s slow and fluid, as if something gentle was about to happen. But that, like all other gentle things, dies fast. Because there’s a second motion, a quicker one and a more abrupt one. And then there’s something slamming into you, your head going hot, the wind in your ears, and finally your back bursting open on something rough. 

You can’t think. You can’t move. But only one thing comes to mind: The Titan. 

“Y/N?!”

You groan in response, eyes closed as pain tingles up from your toes slowly. 

“Where did you come from?! Y/N?!”

...

You’ve never liked waking up. You might’ve tolerated it in your youth, before the titans came, but since you’d enlisted, it was hard to be an early bird. It made you grumpy. Luckily, you weren’t social enough to have people around you to witness you doing so. Except for now, and the man in front of you with intense eyes and a long face. 

On his jacket is the sigil of the military police- a green unicorn shining like bravery. His lips are slightly snarled, despite the charismatic voice that you barely bother listening to. 

He tells you his name- Nile- and asks yours. You don’t answer. He has to get the report from the nurse, who only has your first name listed because nobody else in the corps knows your last. He keeps overusing it in some strange attempt to make you feel at ease, unaware that your intelligence has a built in bullshit detector. 

What an idiot, you think behind your bandaged head.

Nile asks you if you can tell him what happened to you, but you can tell he doesn’t care. You keep it short and anonymous. (“I was assigned to the vanguard. I already know my squad is dead.”)

He asks if you know someone with the last name Jaeger. You do. But it feels wrong to say so. (“Probably.”)

By the end of it, Nile’s stupid looking eye is practically twitching. He asks about your injuries, which you learn more about. your ribs were broken, as you’d expected. There was internal bleeding, your appendix had been removed, a few broken fingers on your right hand. Twisted ankle, broken wrist. Then Nile asks how you got them. 

(“I fell.”)

And he asks how you fell, like he’s looking for a specific answer. 

(“I landed on a roof and lost my feet.”)

He also questions if you ran into any Abnormals. If maybe they were responsible for your injuries. 

You narrow your eyes. 

(“I only ran into one.”)

And finally, if that one hurt you.

(“No.”)

You know that he knows. But it doesn’t matter. Something inside of you tells you that you can’t tattle on your Abnormal discovery. If he was responsible for knocking you off his shoulder, which he probably was, you still weren’t going to say a word. He saved your life. Considering he’s alive and well, maybe even captured, it’s only fitting you save him in return. 

Nile leaves at least, foaming at the mouth in frustration, masked only in a thin layer of politeness. Rain drops hit the window behind you. You crane your head around to watch them, the thunder booming lowly. Last time you were in this weather, that great beast had shielded you from it. Once with his hand, another with your own hood. And if you squint hard enough through the pain, you can just make out the silhouette of a rancor titan, and the tiny human on its shoulder, eager to return the favor. 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Did I reread this? I skimmed it. Why? Because this took over a week or 2 to get out and I have to start finishing requests before i lose my mind with all these drafts oh god. i always so i’ll go back and edit but i never do lmao. my bad. 

Fun fact! the original draft showcased the reader being separated from eren, and losing all gas. surrounded by titans, they yell at the titan for help, but he is distracted by a titan nearby after leading him to Mikasa. While the reader finally dies, eren sees them from over the buildings and roars, begins to stomp on the nape of the titan, and is infused with a new rage. The reader is listed missing in action, and Eren can’t remember what happened to them, but remembers seeing them. Another happy ending!

[theaufanartist]

“𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘳? 𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦, 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.”

Jeong Yun Ho💖

“When will Friday come?”you ask your long time best friend over the phone, sitting in front of the window near the bed, pouting. Your best friend sighs over the phone.

“It’s tomorrow,”she says, “stop sulking already!”she exclaims, making you look at her across the street, sitting near her window, holding her forehead in her palm. You giggle at her.

“I seriously can’t wait, okay!”

She giggles from the other side, but soon enough, you hear a familiar voice booming in the background, behind her.

“Hey, where the hell is my charger-“he stops and stills. You freeze in your fidgeting position, and his mere voice was enough to make your heart race. He looks at his sister, and then walks towards her bed, climbing on it, and sitting near the window, waving at you.

“Hey! How have you been?”he asks, his sister cringing at his loud voice and smacking his hand.

“You don’t have to yell, you know,”she says, making him giggle, the sound being music to your ears.

“I’m alright,”you say, nineteen years of being neighbours and yet, it still makes you nervous talking to him.

“You girls talk, I need to meet the guys. We’re gonna have a small meet-up tomorrow. Bye,”he says, before you hear your best friend’s voice back.

“So, go sleep hun; we’ll meet tomorrow!”she says, before blowing a goodnight kiss to you, which you dramatically catch, making you both giggle. You leave the drapes open, laying on your bed, staring at the night sky, trying to picture the boy-across-the-street in your dreams.

Friday came, and you couldn’t be more excited. Wearing your favourite overalls, over your white tee, you try not to style your hair much, because they looked pretty good the way they were,and you weren’t the kind to dress-to-impress. You took your phone, double checked your room, trying to remember if you were forgetting anything.You skip down the stairs to your living room, greeting your parents.

“Enjoy!”your mother chirps, bidding you a goodbye. You wave at your father, who smiles at you. Wearing your pre-tied converse, you run across the street, to your best friend’s house, who jumped on her feet to hug you.

“Finally! Let’s go!”she shrieks, making you squeal. You both decide to go to the library to check out the new additions, then the park.

“So,”she speaks up, trying to not speak loudly. You hum in response, still looking in the book.

“You should tell him, you know,”she says, making you whip your head at her.

“What should I tell and to whom?”you ask her, trying to act oblivious. She smirks at you, totally awards of your feelings for her brother.

“Yun Ho.”

Your cheeks heat up. You didn’t expect her to take the topic out.

“Don’t speak non sense,”you say, picking out another book. She tilts her head to the side, teasingly, smiling at you, “he might be dating someone.”

“Huh? What gave that away?”

“Well, for starters, he’s so handsome, caring, the perfect gentleman any girl would dream of,”you say, keeping that book back to it’s place, looking up at her, “and secondly, he doesn’t see me more than your best friend and his little sister.”

“Oh trust me, he sees you far from a little sister,”she mutters, making you quirk an eyebrow.

“What did you say?”you ask her.

“Hu? Nothing. I just said that let’s go and have something, I’m hungry.”

You both leave the book store and make your way towards the nearby cafe you both loved to hang out at. A turkey sandwich seemed delightful, accompanied by Pepsi, and your best friend took her daily dose of sweet honey glazed donut and a strawberry milkshake. You both decided to go to the park and eat.

You both were peacefully enjoying the food, when you heard a loud, witch like laughter erupting from nearby. You both look at each other and then glance sideways, seeing the familiar bunch of guys laughing and jumping over each other. Your eyes widen when you see the familiar tall boy, smiling widely looking at his friends causing nuisance. His eyes look elsewhere for a while and then meet yours, widening in surprise and smiling widely, waving at you. You shyly wave back at him, getting back at your sandwich.

“Hey look, who we’ve got here,” you hear Min Gi’s voice, pointing at both of you. They were all your seniors back in school, and being Yun Ho’s friend, you were automatically friends with them.

“What are you guys doing here?”your best friend asks them.

“You do know it’s a public place, right?” Yeo Sang speaks up, raising his eyebrow. She rolls her eyes at him.

“I meant, why are you here?”

“Oh, we were just roaming around,”Woo Young chirps, making you smile at him.

“Mind if we join you guys?” Yun Ho asks, making your eyes widen.

“Why would she mind?”your best friend mutters under her breath, making you shoot a glare at her. You nod at him, and the other guys. They sit next to you, talking about random stuffs. The sun was about to set, making everything seem prettier.

“We should take pictures!”Hong Joong booms, “who knows when we all will hang out together, again,”he says, making everyone agree unanimously.

Your best friend joins them, and you smile at her, taking her pictures.

“Those turned out pretty good,”you yelp in surprise on the sudden familiar, velvety-smooth deep voice you grew to love so much. You could feel his warm breath hit the side of your neck, his vanilla-rose musk hitting your nose, forming a comforting blanket around you.

“Thanks,”you whisper, studying the pictures you took.

“Can you take mine, too?”he asks, making you turn your head to look at him. You noticed his cheeks turning pink, along with the tip of his ears. You smile, nodding in affirmation.

He poses in a way that the sun hits his face, illuminating his side profile.

He gives a few dorky pose, making you giggle at him.

The last picture you take of him was him extending his hand towards you, asking you to hold his hand, which was a total boyfriend move, making your cheeks heat up. You clear your throat, smiling at him. He runs upto you, his doe eyes staring widely. You show your photography to him, emitting a squeal from him.

“These are amazing! You’re amazing!”he praises you, making you blush. He looks up at you and smiles.

“Can I ask you something?”

You nod at him.

“𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘳? 𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦, 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.”

You whip your head at him, mouth wide open. He giggles at your flustered state. He moves closer to you, taking your smaller hands in his huge ones.

“That was pretty lame, but honestly, I have been meaning to try to talk to you lately,”he says. You were too shocked to process what was really happening.

“I’ve liked you for a long time now,”he says, looking down at you, “will you go out with me?”

You were too happy to realise that you’ve been nodding vigorously even before he popped the question. He giggles at you, patting your head.

“You’re too cute,”he whispers, lifting up your hand, bringing it to a kiss. Your best friend looks at you and gives a thumbs up, making you both smile. You look at him and take his hand in yours, kissing the knuckles.

“I like you too,”you say, making him smile, “I couldn’t say it back there, because I’ve liked you since a long time. I thought that maybe you won’t feel the same, and maybe you wouldn’t wanna see me that way,”your tone falters, your fingers playing with his.

“Probably, you’re the only person I’d be with,”he says, kissing your forehead.

“Ooof, finally he confessed!” San yells, making everyone laugh. Yun Ho smiles at you, holding your hands. Then and there you see your life getting better and better, now with the love of your life on your side.

[thedistantdusk]

Arcadia, Chapter 1

My submission for the 2021 Hinny birthday challenge for the HG discord! Thanks to Liza for organizing, to @accio-broom for the Brit-pick, to @secretkeeper13 for the beta, and to anyone else who helped (I'm probably forgetting a few folks, apologies).

The challenge theme this year was content based on TV! This is an (extremely loose) X-Files AU, but you absolutely don’t need to be familiar with X-Files to understand this :D

TW (spoilers): swearing, references to (severe) mental health concerns, (eventual) consensual relations

___________________________________________________________

D A Y  + O N E

The woman probably finds herself charming as she stands in their driveway, her hands clasped in frozen excitement.

But Ginny just finds her creepy.

Really fucking creepy.

Harry drops hired car into first gear as they pull in. This woman— the head of the village council, Ginny reckons, the one she spoke to on the phone— wears perfectly-pleated Chino pants with a lavender jumper draped across her shoulders.

Her attire is standard for a posh village… especially a new-build village, one with a covenant and loads of stupid rules. It’s the woman’s eerie, opened-mouthed grin that shoots a chill up Ginny’s spine.

Her stark white teeth glint in the sun, but her smile doesn’t move an inch… and the longer Ginny stares, the more unsettled she grows. The only thing larger than her grin is the mane of yellow hair that surrounds her face like an ersatz halo.

Harry clears his throat as he turns off the car; Ginny realizes this is the first sound either of them has made since leaving London.

Awkward.

She reaches for her door handle, but the random woman gets to it first.

“You must be Jenny and Henry!” she shrieks, yanking on Ginny’s shoulders before she’s even unbuckled. “Oh, sorry! Love, do let me get the strap!”

Ginny’s on her feet and pressed to the stranger’s perfumed bosom before she has a chance to tell her she can manage just fine herself, thanks.

“Lovely to meet you in person!” the woman cries, nearly shaking with enthusiasm. It’s not until Ginny’s returned a weak squeeze that the vice-like grip around her middle weakens.

Rubbing her aching shoulder, she sneaks a glimpse at Harry; while she fought for air, he apparently climbed out of the car, only to stare at the two of them like a deer in the headlights. Now his elbow’s at an awkward angle, his hand behind his back, which could only mean one thing: he’s reaching for the wand in his back pocket.

Shit.

Ginny shakes her head and hopes her eyes convey what her lips can’t: She’s just a standard Muggle weirdo. Relax.

“I’m Jane. Jane Connors. In the flesh!” The woman (whose voice Ginny now finds painfully familiar) throws her hands in the air and twirls on the spot. “I take it you’re Jenny and Henry Petri!”

Harry interrupts with a booming chuckle before Ginny says a word; in three quick steps, he’s wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “That’s Pee-tri, actually. Like the dish,” Harry— Henry— adds with a wink. “And speaking of dish…” His eyes travel over Ginny, his voice going all deep and silky.

She bites back a shudder, hating the way her stomach drops as his fingers graze her arm. All that keeps her grounded is knowing the truth: Harry’s good at his job, nothing more. The only reason he’s suddenly become a skilled actor is that his career demands it.

Hers does too, she reminds herself firmly. And if she has any intention of successfully completing her first solo mission, she needs to get her shit together. Now.

Ginny blinks up at Harry, appropriately sobered; his eyes glimmer with mirth. As suspected, he’s only doing his job. Touch is just part of the assignment description. He has no way of knowing what it does to her— because really, truly, it shouldn’t.

And maybe if she keeps telling herself that, it’ll eventually come true.

Harry winks at Jane, tugging Ginny against his side. “My new wife and I had a long journey from the city! We were hoping to get some alone-time before tucking in, I’m sure you understand.”

Jane looks puzzled. “You— but it’s 5:43!” An uncomfortable giggle burbles from her lips. “You must be moved in by 6. Surely you’ve read the covenant rules?”

“Erm… may have missed that one,” Ginny lies. “There’s quite a few, see. We’re used to—”

But Jane shoves her fingers into her mouth, cutting her off with an ear-piercing whistle. Just as quickly, another chill races up Ginny’s spine. People up and down the street emerge from their semi-detached homes and race towards them, their faces in downcast unison.

They’ve all been watching. Waiting for the signal. Ready.

Ginny’s not sure how long ago the Department of Mysteries delivered the moving van and left it on the street, but the horde of random people aren’t fussed with the details, either. Within five seconds of Jane’s whistle, the strangers throw open the back door and begin an unloading process that reeks of military precision.

“Here’s the house key!” trills Jane, pulling it from her pocket. “Oh, and Petris!” She turns to Harry and Ginny, wagging her finger. “I’ll also need a copy of your car key, ASAP. We’re firm believers in the buddy system here in Arcadia.” She returns her attention to the stone-faced neighbors, who are now scurrying to the door. “This way, friends— right this way!”

“I— that’s really unnecessary,” Ginny says, bewildered, as people rush inside their new house, boxes in arms. “We’re perfectly able to—”

“Nonsense!” cries a man with grey sideburns as he takes a box from the back. “We’re neighborly here. You’d better get used to it.”

“Yes!” chimes another voice. A chubby man wearing a Polo and a golden necklace emerges from behind the lorry, hurrying up the walk. “We’re like a family here. We all— oh no!” He lets out a startled cry as a box labeled FINE CHINA topples from his arms and lands on the pavement with a thump.

He rushes towards it, face falling, but Ginny’s main concern is the box’s silent descent; she runs over, making a mental note to have a word with the designer of these props. Would something noisy and fragile have killed them? For fuck’s sake...

“Sorry,” the man says with a pained wince. “I’m just so clumsy. I-I promise, I’ll—”

“It’s fine,” Ginny soothes, dropping to her knees. “Don’t worry, really. We aren’t too big on dishes.”

Maybe if she keeps him talking, he won’t realize it’s bloody empty. Seriously, this is amateur shit. Luckily, he’s too distracted to notice.

The man offers a sheepish smile. “I’m Mike. Mike Snodgrass. You may have seen Mike and Jess in the resident guide, but erm…” He trails off, sadness in his voice.

Ginny cocks her head to feign confusion, but of course she’s familiar with Jess Snodgrass, 25, reported missing last November. Her photo’s been on Ginny’s desk for almost as long. Even now, Jess appears in Ginny’s mind with such startling clarity that she can almost see her beside Mike... all 5 feet of her, with curly red hair, bright blue eyes, and a lopsided grin.

Jess Snodgrass… Arcadia’s third missing person. The first to disrupt the couples-only disappearance pattern.

Mike shrugs. “But erm… it’s just me now,” he repeats. “I’m a primary teacher at Saint Julian’s, just up the road.” He nods to his left. “So if you’ve got any homework or school questions, give me a ring!” He pastes on a smile that doesn’t match his eyes; it’s an expression with which Ginny’s well-acquainted.

“I’ll have to remember that, Mike Snodgrass,” Ginny says, shaking his hand.

She immediately regrets it.

Seeing Mike Snodgrass on paper is one thing, but touch makes him human. His hand feels big and warm, his smile earnest and sweet; he reminds her so strongly of Neville that her stomach aches. Ginny breathes through her nose and focuses on the way his necklace — a medallion of Saint Julian, appropriately enough — sparkles in the sun.

“Like I said, I’m all alone,” Mike repeats, offering his hand to help her up. “If you ever need anything, Jenny, don’t hesitate to ask!”

Ginny taps her chin. “Actually, I do have a question! I reckon it’s just a rumor, though. You don’t have to confirm or deny.” She winks at him and leans in as a woman in a fleece jumper rushes past.

Mike’s smile widens, his face brightening… and ah fuck, that one hurts, because she’s about to break his heart.

“Mike…” Ginny murmurs, studying his expression. The more she says his name, the less he reminds her of Neville; she wants to keep it that way. “With everyone being so bloody hospitable here, how come there are so many disappearances?”

Mike stops bobbing. His smile vanishes as quickly as the former occupants of Jenny and Henry’s new home. When Ginny looks back into his eyes, her gut plummets with a sensation of wretched familiarity.

Because she expected sadness on his face… the same type she saw when he mentioned Jess’ name. Sadness she can deal with; sadness is painful, but she sees it all the time.

She sees something worse, though.

Fear.

And not day-to-day fear. This isn’t like hating needles or avoiding clown movies. Mike’s face is filled with the sort of wide-eyed, gripping, primal terror that seizes your insides in a vice. This is how you’d feel if your entire family were held captive in a dungeon, and a single word to the wrong person would spell their deaths.

Or how you’d feel if your ex-boyfriend were the corrupt government’s most desired fugitive… and you still fancied him very much, indeed.

“I… n-no idea,” Mike finally stutters, blinking. Then he sucks in a deep breath through his nose, his expression brightening again.

“So what do you and Henry do for work?” he asks in a booming voice, his grin now unnaturally wide. “We’ve got a carpool to the city if you’re interested. Reducing our carbon footprint is of utmost importance here in Arcadia!” He finishes by spreading his hands in each direction before placing them on his hips, that shit-eating grin still plastered across his face.

In another life, Ginny might’ve laughed. There certainly would have been a lot to cackle over, if she had the luxury of easy laughter. After all, she may as well be living in an am-dram nativity performance, complete with an overeager Joseph beckoning her to the stables after her harrowing desert journey.

Now, though, his reply only fills her with sad, professional detachment. Because fucking hell, how much did this poor man rehearse to get that line right?

She takes pity on him and snaps the bait. “My husband and I work from home,” she says, matching his volume. Someone’s clearly listening; it’s the least she can do. “You won’t see us out much.” Ginny brings the box to her hip. “And seriously, don’t worry about replacing the dishes, either. We mostly do takeaway.”

“No, let me bring you new ones,” Mike insists, his eyes pleading. “Tomorrow? Would that be—”

“What is this?” a voice demands from the back of the truck. Ginny peers around Mike’s shoulder. The man with the gray sideburns stares inside the lorry with a look of disgust.

“A trampoline!” Harry says, stepping aside as another neighbor races past. “We’re thrilled to put it in the garden, aren’t we, Jenny Cakes?”

Jenny Cakes. Is he fucking serious? Two can play at this game, prat.

“Indeed we are, Hen,” she croons, leaning into his side. “Jen and Hen.” She heaves a dreamy sigh and stares into his eyes. “We even rhyme!”

“Rhyming or not, this isn’t allowed,” the man barks, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’d have to apply for a special exemption with Mr Gogolak, but in the meantime…” He checks his watch. “5:53. Seven minutes. It’ll have to go in the garage tonight. I’m Oliver, by the way— Oliver Skinner.”

Harry gives him a theatrical scowl. “I’d say nice to meet you, but those who are enemies of trampolines are generally enemies of mine.”

Ginny bites the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, but Oliver remains unamused. He raises his pointer finger as if to say something, but Harry gets there first.

“Onnnnly kidding!” Harry winks and claps his shoulder. “Hope we can be fast friends, Oliver.”

Oliver just glares back. “Count on it.”

_______________________________________________________

Ginny’s taking this whole thing very seriously. Not that Harry blames her.

Her voice echoes against the walls of the empty home as she paces around the sitting room, her camera flipped outward to record.

Despite his five-year Auror career, Harry has no real concept of what Unspeakables do. Which, he supposes, is by design. He knows they… know things. Secret things. Things you’d be happier not knowing. He also knows that Kingsley isn’t fond of them. Or perhaps it’s Attica Monkstanley, Ginny’s boss, who King dislikes in particular. Attica’s famous for her refusal to disclose anything — ever. This ranges from potential terrorist plots to her favorite type of sandwich. Thus, Attica isn’t particularly popular. After a career built on helping absolutely no one outside her department, the request for Auror backup on an undisclosed, top-secret endeavor went over about as well as a hippogriff stampede in a posh tea room.

Harry sighs at the blank walls of their would-be living room. King’s in charge now. Big in charge. He or Robards were the obvious choices to accompany Ginny — sorry, Unspeakable GW — on this mission, but when you’re Big In Charge, you call the shots. The shot King called was to pass the assignment to Robards, who in turn passed it to Harry; Robards decided he didn’t need to (direct quote) “take off a week from pre-existing assignments for some fake marriage, new-build village bullshit in the arse-end of Muggle nowhere.”

Admittedly, Harry’s in a bit of a lull at the moment. He’d been assigned to track and recover Yaxley, but that trail went cold on the border of Romania. Harry’s certain he’s just beyond their reach, maybe hiding in a cave, but seeing as how Harry’s not Big In Charge, his opinion doesn’t exactly matter.

Which is precisely how he’s found himself in this bland house in the village of Arcadia, pretending to be married to his ex-girlfriend… who, incidentally, he’s still hopelessly infatuated with, even five years after he ended things.

Because Harry Potter is nothing if not pathetic.

There’d been no realistic way to decline the assignment, though. Not that he’d tried. Seriously, imagine explaining that to your boss: “Mm yeah, sorry King, I can’t do my job because I still wank to the memory of Unspeakable GW riding my—”

Ginny’s narration jerks him from his thoughts. “It’s 6:15 PM on our first day of the assignment,” she dictates into her phone. “Auror Potter and I are secured in the home, posing as Muggle couple Jenny and Henry Petri.”

“Pee-tri!” Harry corrects, throwing his voice across the room.

He hopes he’s loud enough for the camera to detect, but he isn’t exactly brave enough to find out. Harry picks up their empty curry boxes and scampers into the kitchen without so much as a backward glimpse. He may have been forced into this assignment, but he’ll be damned if he can't have a bit of fun.

Her narration stops as he dips out of sight; if Harry were the gambling sort, he’d bet all the gold in Gringotts that she shot him a two-fingered salute away from the camera.

For some fucked up reason, the thought stirs something warm and exciting that lies dormant in his stomach. What’s worse is this feeling almost makes him smile.

No.

Harry draws a breath as he enters the kitchen.

As Kingsley’s told him several times, this arrangement is strictly business— regardless of his past with her. And in retrospect, yeah, the whole setup is an easy way for King to A) refuse responsibility himself, and B) put Monkstanley in a tough spot if it goes pear-shaped.

Harry pops open the rubbish bin. This is just the sort of liability King’s always looking to avoid, really, but— wait. He blinks down into the bin to make sure he’s not just seeing things, but nope… for some reason, the interior is divided into three sections, each in a different color.

Huh! Harry mulls this over before picking the blue bin at random and tossing the containers in. Maybe he’d know what each color meant if he bothered to read the covenant rules. Fortunately, he had much more exciting plans that particular evening involving Ron, loads of butterbeer, and a Canons/Falcons match from hell.

Whatever. Surely Arcadia would make an effort to clearly explain their recycling system if they really cared about the planet.

He returns to the living room just as Ginny’s providing a more in-depth introduction. “Right. I’m Unspeakable GW, badge number”— her voice becomes garbled gibberish, an extra level of concealment, before slipping back to normal speech— “and we’re here to investigate the series of unexplained Muggle disappearances in the village of Arcadia. As this may involve a potential escapee from the Thought Chamber, the Department thought it best for me to investigate. The Thought Chamber’s been my area of expertise for four years…”

Harry sinks into the sofa as she continues; he’s unsure if he should be sad or impressed that this is teaching him more about her job than she ever shared. Not that she did this for long while they were actually together, mind. Nonetheless, his chest flutters again with that stupid bittersweet pride as Ginny scans the room with the phone camera. All of this pageantry is necessary for her job, he knows. Careful documentation. Detailed recordings.

But for fuck’s sake, look at how much she’s done! She’s the youngest Junior Unspeakable in history, soon to become Senior, if this mission works out. She’s composed, she’s eloquent, she’s graceful. Another smile threatens to break through before Harry suppresses it; he just hopes that there’s someone in her life to remind her of how special she is.

She’s really dressed for the part, too. Harry’s certain that none of this is actually in her wardrobe. Seeing her out of jeans and a jumper is off-putting, but she’s done it so damn well. She once told him that most of her clothing choices were based on how easily she could wear them flying.

He swallows the sadness creeping up his throat. He doesn’t even know if she still flies, but she doesn’t in this outfit, that’s for damn sure. Her trainers are impeccably white, with a floral button-up blouse done up to her neck. She’s a bit like a young, beautiful Aunt Petunia; Harry reckons this is more or less the goal, but when she turns around to describe the stairwell, his eyes drop to her arse.

Shit.

He glances away as quickly, but he got a good look. Her casual trousers are rolled at the ankles, but they’ve done nothing to make her look… plain. Harry shuffles on the sofa, desperate for anything else to think about. Somehow, Aunt Petunia’s face still puckers in his mind’s eye, but now he can’t escape the mental image of her bent over the oven of 4 Privet Drive, only this time sporting a round, perfect—

“Potter’s here for backup,” Ginny says, returning to the sitting room. “I’m on primary investigation.”

Thank God; he sighs at the welcome distraction before remembering that bantering with her has always been an effective palate cleanser. So he does that, instead.

“Well, you know what they say,” Harry calls, leaning back against the cushions. “There’s nothing less interesting than the suburbs. Which is why I could never do your job, Jen.” He ends with a wink, resting his hands behind his head.

Ginny arches a brow, holding the camera in front of her. “And please take note, Attica, that the next time this happens, I’ll be the one to choose the names.”

She means it casually… he knows she means it casually. But something in her words pricks him. Irritates him. Wedges beneath his skin.

“Quite an assumption I’ll ever spend this much time with you again,” Harry mutters under his breath.

Shit.

He freezes. He didn’t mean to say that out loud, at least not so… bitterly. Once upon a time, he possessed the social graces to think before replying like that— but days of interpersonal nuance are long gone. They belonged to a carefree teenager with few thoughts aside from the next time he’d run his fingers through the thick, red hair that currently swayed in a long ponytail.

By the time he looks back up at her, Ginny’s face is filled with disappointment. And she’s closed her phone.

“I’ll have to redo that last bit of filming,” she says with a sniff. “But for what it’s worth?” She raises her chin. “You didn’t mind spending time with me in the distant, distant past, Auror Potter.”

Ha!

That was a tremendous understatement.

He’d been in love with her. Stupidly. Disgustingly. The first six months after the war were a blur of sex and mourning. They’d been so punch drunk and delirious that they probably used each other’s bodies more than either of them knew. He really thought they’d have a future, though… that they’d end up getting married and buying a house. Except theirs would have been different than this one. Filled with far more character and history and warmth. Their home would have smelled like baking bread and sounded like kids giggling and felt like a soft blanket on a cold night.

But none of that had anything to do with the way he snapped. So why bring it up, really?

“Sorry,” Harry whispers, tucking his hands beneath his bum. “That… I didn’t mean. I’m sorry. I just meant that we don’t see each other much, and…” He lets out a slow breath. Best to stop talking before he digs himself deeper.

“I forgive you,” Ginny says quietly. A full second passes before she offers him a smirk. “As long as I can still call you Pookie Pie in front of the neighbors.”

Harry blinks at the carpet with a sad smile. “Deal.”

[hopeamarsu]

Of potions and myths - Chapter 3

William “Ironhead” Miller x f!reader

Word count 3,1k

Warnings: There is a visit to the police station and the officer isn’t the most accommodation but no words are changed. Other than that, I think none

A/N: I realize not a lot happens here, but I’m working my way to reveal more of this world, their connection and adding a dash of magical au in here somewhere.  

Chapter 2 - Chapter 4

Will insists on driving you to the precinct first, to file the complaint about the man from the previous night before heading out to meet his pack. You almost want to protest, the need and itch to solve the riddle of the connection and the pull between you much larger, but one look into his eyes tells you he will not budge. So with a sigh and a kiss, you untangle yourself from his embrace and slip into your bedroom to dress for the day. 

When you come back to the kitchen, Will has already cleaned up your cups and your coffee maker and he takes your hand as you walk outside. The air is warmer now, the morning chill defeated as you step to the curb and back into his truck. The brush against your seatbelt seems almost unconscious as the blond man starts the truck and navigates into the morning traffic. 

The drive is accompanied by shy glances and soft smiles and you speak of unimportant things, getting to know one another. Favorite bands, random titbits about food and restaurants you’ve recently tried, stuff that on the surface level seems shallow but reveal a lot of each of you as you trade questions and stories. As he pulls up behind the police station, Will almost takes your hand into his, remembering the tendrils at the last moment. It might not be best to flaunt them around until you get a better understanding, he thinks, so he guides you inside with his hand hovering beside your elbow. 

You don’t notice it, but as soon as you step in, the man scans the exits and weak spots within the lobby and moves his body to best cover you as you walk to the counter. As you tell the officer manning the desk you want to report a crime, he cages you between him and the counter, one hand on your back and the other leaning over the wooden desk. Will might look relaxed and his posture easy, but he is anything but. The thrum in his chest has changed its tone and he can feel the wolf pace around as it tracks for any potential threats. 

The report is thankfully done quickly, smoothed over by Will’s convenient flip of his wallet and credentials when the officer looks up and down at you with disinterest as you explain your issue. You wrinkle your nose in annoyance when he does it, but let it pass as it gets the officer moving, pulling up documents for you to fill. Your information is jotted down, the account of the date and parties involved and you give a description of the potion (corroborated by Will) and as soon as your signature dries on the paper, the Captain whisks you outside.

“That was fast,” He comments as he guides you back to his truck, his hand radiating heat over your body. There is a non-committal hum from your pursed lips. You do not elaborate it further, but he catches the tone of it anyway. “Sweetheart, what is it?” Will grips your hand, forcing you to stop before you can step inside the car. He gently turns you around so you are face to face again. 

His blue eyes are darker again, though not in arousal. There’s worry, apprehension and something else swimming in the depths and your heart squeezes a little as you catalogue them. Hesitantly Will lets go of your arm and the spot feels cold immediately. From the corner of your eye, you see the tendrils disappear from where he touched you. “Did I do something wrong there?” 

You are quick to shake your head. “No, no! Absolutely not. It’s just… You know I was hesitant to do this in the first place and it’s because I knew this was going to happen. They would not believe me until you showed your credentials from Delta and it annoys me. Not you, the idea that just because I’m a mundane, I’m not to be believed. Like I don’t know a potion when I smell one. Just because I don’t have a neat little ID card that states I’m born into it, but have had to work my way through research to understand the intricacies. Might as well call me hysterical, you know?” 

Will tugs you in immediately, strong arms wrapping around to envelop you in a hug. Hands run up and down your body as he curses under his breath. He should’ve known not to hijack the situation, he should’ve let you handle this particular battle but he didn’t. The need to make it all go away fast got away from him. Something fierce bleeds through from his mind to yours and you gasp involuntary as it shatters your shields. The power of it knocks the wind out of you and your knees buckle. 

“Shit!” The curse is louder this time and Will reaches out behind you to open the door to the truck and he helps you sit down. “What happened, sweetheart?” His hands run across your face, your temple and your shoulders, worry etched into his features. But it's a different type of worry now, not like before when he was worried about what had happened in the precinct. This worry comes from somewhere deeper inside him, something more primal, and it rattles you as it bounces against your feeble shields, breaking them down further. 

“I’m okay, I’m… alright. I promise,” you whisper, your voice hoarse as you gasp for air. “I can just, I can just feel your emotions. And they are loud and powerful.” Will curses again and all of the emotions vanish in a flash as his own shields slam shut. You take a shuddering breath, lifting your eyes to look at him. His eyes flash between beautiful blue and intense red as he tries to get himself under control. 

“We need to go and see the elders now. If you can feel my emotions and they affect you like this, it’s not…” Will struggles for words, trying to piece it all together as he helps you get more settled on the seat. A water bottle is pushed into your hands and he urges you to sip from it. “This connection we feel, it’s growing and changing, becoming more powerful.” He finally finishes, scratching the back of his neck. 

You nod weakly but remain silent, trying to gather your bearings as you grip the bottle tight. He holds your gaze, finding something that eases his worries, and Will jumps behind the wheel. He easily navigates out of the inner city, his hand brushing periodically at yours on the seat between you as he zig-zags the streets until the truck is on the freeway and he can grasp it in his palm. 

You have a million questions running in your mind, trying to make some sort of mental list to ask the elders while building up the shields once more. You feel nervous, untethered and all over the place, wishing you had a better grip at your emotions. The analytical side of your brain is excited for the oncoming flood of information but the rest of you is scared you’ll be turned away once you reach his pack. 

As you feel your shields slowly settle and become a little stable again, you send out a small prayer to whomever is listening that even if you are turned away, Will’s pack won’t turn on him. It’s been less than 24 hours of knowing him but you don’t want to see him hurt, ever. The gnarly feeling twists your gut and you think for a second to ask him to stop and leave you by the side of the road. The second the thought hits, another follows that tells you that he would never agree to it. It calms you a little and you twist on your seat to fully look at him.

He truly looks gorgeous, you muse. His large frame looks at home behind the wheel, the grey Henley accentuating his muscles tantalizingly. As your eyes drift lower, you take in the comfortable-looking jeans hiding powerful thighs and the black watch on his hand before you focus on his tattoos, wanting to trace them closely and learn all their secrets. All of his secrets really and make them yours too. It’s a sobering thought that you will guard whatever secret he lets you in on with your life if needed.  

“We’re almost there. Just a few minutes more.” Will turns to look at you, eyes flashing red again and this time you latch onto it. You remember it happening previously at the precinct and yesterday at the pub. “Will, your eyes…” 

“My inner wolf, he knows we’re close to the pack and wants out.” He offers while turning the truck from asphalt to gravel as he guides it towards a parking place, filled with trucks and bikes and cars of all sizes. He kills the engine and takes both of your hands to his. “I promise I’ll explain them in better detail later, but I need to warn…”

Will doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence before the front door of his truck is wretched open and something large crowds it. 

“William Arthur Miller! Where the fuck have you been? You better explain yourself!” A male voice booms and you can only watch as the man is dragged out of the seat by his shirt and a smaller, leaner version of him embraces him tightly. Two other men appear in front of the truck as well, moving closer to the couple and soon you watch all four men embracing together. 

Carefully you step out of the truck too, leaning against it as you witness the men that are oblivious to the world for that moment. It’s endearing, the love that they have for one another, so clear in the gentle touches and noses burrowing into each other's skin to confirm that they are really all here.  

It takes some time for the group hug to disperse, allowing you to study the minute movements and shifts and build up your own strength for what’s to come. But once they do separate, suddenly three pairs of eyes look at you curiously. You see two sets flash yellow and one bright electric blue as the men study you, but the colors are quickly hidden when they realize you are not a wolf yourself. 

“Will, who is this?” The same voice speaks up again, the man looking at you with doubt in his eyes. The electric blue flashes in and out of his eyes and you wonder what it means and curse yourself for focusing more on other things than wolves. You can feel tension rise in the air as the men close ranks, form a sort of a wall in front of you and the truck, blocking all exits.  

“Sweetheart, I would like you to meet my brothers. Ben,” Will feels the tension too and shifts to stand next to you and points at the man who has spoken. Ben’s eyebrows rise at the term of endearment but he only tips his head in acknowledgement as the man beside him nudges his ribs. “Frankie,”  He nods towards the man next to Ben who is wearing a baseball cap and a grey T-shirt. Next to him, a shorter man with inquisitive eyes and salt-and-pepper curly hair steps forward and holds out his hand.

“Santiago, but you may call me Pope. And you are?”  You grasp his hand, the firm and dry handshake, something you expect from a man who holds himself like a soldier. You introduce yourself, nodding to Ben and Frankie before dropping Pope’s hand. Will’s large hand comes to rest at the curve of your hip.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call or text last night, but something came up.” Will looks down at you, softness creeping up his features as he speaks. You answer him with a tiny smile and he squeezes your hip.   

Ben is about to open his mouth, maybe to throw a joke or a barb but a quick grip of his wrist from Frankie stops him. He flashes his eyes at the younger man who snaps his mouth shut immediately. Santiago takes one look at the closeness between your and Will’s bodies and he nods, his eyes flashing yellow as he narrows them before adopting a neutral look quickly. 

“Understandable. Maybe we could take this into a more calm place and we can talk?” It’s phrased as a question but you feel like it's more a command as the others all nod quickly and begin walking along the path leading away from the parking lot. Will guides you in front of him, taking up position right behind you and not letting his hand fall. 

Up the path, you see several houses, most of them built so that the backyard leads into the forest surrounding you. After a few minutes of walking, you stop and turn to face one of the houses. It’s beautiful, full of warm wood tones and a beautiful garden. “Santi’s wife works as our healer, hence the full yard. There’s more in the back,” Will whispers in your ear, chuckling low at your interested look. “I’ll introduce you later, I think you and Yovanna would get along well.” 

The inside of the house smells of herbs, cooking and love and it feels so homey that it makes your chest ache. You wish to soak all the scents and feelings deep into your bones, bask in the glow and allow it to centre you. This feels like everything you’ve ever wanted and you never want to leave the foyer, but that is not in the cards just yet. With a small tug Will guides you to the living room, gesturing you to sit down on the loveseat. Ben takes up the armchair and Frankie plops down on the couch, followed by Pope. 

The energy in the room changes once more, becoming more charged as the men study you again. You brace yourself, upping your shields and unconsciously lean towards Will as you wait for someone to talk.

To your surprise, it’s Will. He speaks calmly, explaining what transpired in the pub and you see the men sit up straighter as they realize what could’ve happened had their brother not interfered. He then tells his brothers about the pull he felt as he took you home and how he was unable to leave the street, his need of protecting you outweighing everything. You watch Pope’s eyebrows raise in surprise as Will describes the warmth and the hunger he felt, still feels, as you are close. 

Frankie rises up from his seat and mumbles something about making a call and you know that the elders will come here, soon. Your hands find Wills and you squeeze it between yours, drawing strength from your connection. As your skin touches his, the tendrils appear, dancing on your skins though they are more muted now and Ben gasps. 

“Holy shit! What the fuck is that?!” 

“That’s what we need to find out, Benny. All we know so far is that we are drawn to one another like magnets, these appear when we touch and as of this morning we can feel each other's emotions. They don’t affect me as much yet, but there is definitely potential for it to incapacitate.”

Pope remains silent, his eyes flitting between yours, your intertwined hands and Will. “What are you?” He questions finally, just as Frankie returns to the living room. Before you can answer, the man slaps Pope’s head. “You can’t go around just asking that, cabrón, you know that.”

“Well, this isn’t anything I’ve ever seen before. Either you are something very powerful and do this on purpose, or something nefarious is at play here,” Pope offers. Dark eyes study you, the tension in the room growing as seconds tick by. Your eyes move from his to Ben’s and to Frankie before you turn your head to look at Will. He gives you the tiniest of nods and you roll your shoulders before looking at Pope again.  

“I was raised as a mundane, but I’ve been studying potions and spells for a long time. I work as a researcher at the museum's antique artefacts and extracts department. I know the basics but I promise you, any power that I possess is tiny compared to practising witches.” 

You speak calmly, wanting to diffuse any malice before it takes root. You glance at Will again, your eyes betraying you as they are filled with worry and fear. He smiles reassuringly and cups the back of your neck, kissing you fast, unafraid. 

It’s a possessive move as he devours your mouth, not caring an inch that his brothers are in the same room as you are. He pulls you in closer so that you are leaning towards his chest, hands on his pectorals and neck as he continues kissing you. You know the tendrils make another appearance as someone, maybe Frankie, gasps softly but you are lost to the kiss and in Will.

A cough finally separates you from one another but his large hand on your cheek doesn’t allow you to move far. “It’s going to be alright, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he murmurs to your lips before straightening himself to look at the other occupants of the room. There’s steel in his eyes, challenging any of his brothers to start anything, but none of them do. You watch intently as the men eye one another, the bond they share crackling in the room. Benny is the first to rip his gaze off, followed shortly by Frankie and Pope.   

“Ironhead, we always have your back, you know that.” Frankie finally speaks in a calm tone as he takes the lead and diffuses the situation. “But .. You glow when you kiss. Literally glow in gold and silver. How is this happening?” He glances at Ben and Pope, both nodding in surprised agreement.

A knock on the door shuts up any explanation you want to give and all four men rise to their feet quickly. Following their example, you lift yourself up too and Will tucks you under his arm. 

You can feel his emotions rush in his veins, mixing with yours but you are prepared this time and as they brush you, you embrace them and do not fight. You can feel your shields opening up minutely, the calming effect spreading through both of you as the connection sings in approval. You turn to face the door as Pope opens it. 

The elders are here.

*

Of potions and myths taglist: @mylifeisactuallyamess​ @luxmundee​ @innerpaperexpertcloud​

Everything taglist (I fully understand if you want to skip this one, please let me know and I’ll remove you!) @clydesducktape​ @wayward-rose​ @themuseic​ @miraclesabound​ @clydesfavoritegirl​ @a-true-janian-reply​  @10blurredsmoke10​  @caillea​ @mariesackler​

[mikoobun]

i love you, will you marry me?

    SPOILERS FROM CHAPTER 132 OF ATTACK ON TITAN BELOW

You were numb.

You couldn’t feel or hear anything.

You knew the Colossal Titans stormed on toward you and the members of whoever was left of the Survey Corps; how could you not? You just couldn’t comprehend this moment. 

Here, where your love said her final goodbyes.

Your throat burned and you could feel your damn brain pulsing against your skull as she spoke. You clenched your fists tightly, drawing blood in your fists.

You noticed one thing.

Why wouldn’t she look at you?

You swallowed thickly, forcing yourself to wipe the tears from your red eyes.

“Hanji-” You began. Your voice had turned coarse.

“Goodbye everyone,” Hanji said, speaking over you. She seemed to be strangely satisfied with her fate. Her farewell was a stark contrast to the horrified expressions around her. 

Hanji’s eyes floated among everyone in the group; Levi, Jean, Armin, Connie, Mikasa, Annie and Reiner.

But she wouldn’t even glance at you. 

You; the one who’d been by her side long enough that losing her would mean losing a great part of your soul.

Confusion mixed with anger bubbled in your chest.

“Hanji-” You began again, louder this time, only to be ignored again.

“Levi is now your subordinate,” Hanji announced to the youngers, with her back turned to you, in something like a joking tone. “So feel free to boss him around as you wish.”

Your face darkened. Fresh tears ran down your cheeks as your fists subconsciously clenched again. Levi noticed your blatant irritation, pursing his lips tightly.

Why was she doing this? Why was she ignoring you? 

Would she truly leave you alone without saying goodbye?

Without a word, you narrowed your teary eyes and marched behind Hanji. You roughly grabbed your love’s arm. “Hanji,” This time, your voice cracked horribly and you let your tears flow freely. “Hanji, I know you hear me.”

A moment passed before Hanji sighed quietly.

The brunette turned to face you. Your expression softened immediately. Hanji’s beautiful brown eyes were equally as anguished and tearful as yours, if not then more. Her entire face was red, and her olive cheeks were soaked with tears.

“Hanji,”

On this day, 6 Years into the Past

“Y/N!”

What the hell? 

Your eyes twitched, but you kept them closed.

“Y/NNNN!”

Is that Hanji?

You groaned a little, lazily flopping your arm in the direction of all the chaos.

Hanji crossed her arms and pouted. “Why. Won’t. You. Wake. Up,” Hanji poked your face with a pen, emphasizing every word she murmured. Much to her surprise, you actually responded back this time.

“Maybe because you’re screaming in my ears.”

Sure, your response was sarcastic and barely audible due to your face being pressed into a pillow, but it was still something.

Hanji smiled brightly. “Oh, so you were awake,”

You groggily sat up and rubbed your eyes, which were still growing acquainted to the bright morning light. “I suppose so,” You mumbled, yawning. Hanji noticed the tone of slight irritation in your voice. After all, she did tear you away from sleep. Very loudly, at that.

Before you could process it, Hanji, in her spirited nature, grabbed your face with both hands and pressed a quick peck to your lips.

“Good morning, my love.” 

Her beautiful smile shone brighter than the sun abusing your poor eyes.

Your face softened, and soon you found yourself giggling. You decided to let go of your little grudge.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

__

The day had gone on as usual. You’d spent your days in the military assisting your love in her lab, which you could only describe as a dream job. Every day was a new adventure with Hanji, and you would never have it any other way. Lately, Hanji had been cooped up in her lab for longer periods of time; forgetting to eat, drink, and sometimes even forgetting to sleep. Luckily she had you, her assistant and her lover, to make sure she was properly taken care of.

As the day neared its end, you walked through the hallway leading up to Hanji’s door, balancing a full plate of food in one hand, and a cup of hot tea in the other. 

“Hanji,” You called. “Open up.”

CRASH!

A deafening yell and a number of crashes and thuds boomed as your response.

You flinched so hard that you almost dropped everything in your grasp.

What in God’s name just happened in there?

“H-Hanji?” You said again.

 No response.

Your eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Hanji, I’m coming in now.”

“N-No!” Hanji’s muffled voice hollered. “Don’t come in here!”

“Yeah, why not?” You asked. “I brought you food.”

“Really? I can only imagine where I’d be without you,” She gushed, then paused. “B-But still! Don’t come in here!”

You rolled your eyes. Whatever she was worried about couldn’t have been that bad. You’ve seen it all when it comes to your wacky genius. “I’m coming in now.” You ignored her protests and turned the doorknob handle.

You swung open the mahogany door, setting the food down on the nearest table. You scanned the room. Hanji’s lab was overall in order, but her desk was a nightmare. Papers were sprawled along the floor, empty cups were broken and Hanji stared at you with a nervous smile. Her hands were hidden behind her back.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Hanji,” You sang, slowly walking toward her. “What’s behind your back?”

Hanji stepped back with every step you took forward.

She gulped. “I.. Well, you..”

 You could see her eyes shooting back and forth between you and the open door behind you both. 

Oh no, you don’t-

Hanji launches herself toward the door, cackling wildly. “If you want to see it, I suppose you’ll have to chase me!” 

You found yourself smiling to yourself at the laughing fool. You ran after your crazy woman with the same reckless abandon.

You two passed your subordinates, as well as Captain Levi and Commander Erwin who looked at you two with complete confusion written into their faces.

“I don’t even want to know,” Erwin sipped his tea. Levi shook his head. “The less time we spend trying to understand those two, the more time we get to function.” And the two went back to talking about whatever they were talking about.

You and Hanji found yourselves running the streets of the town under the blanket of the night sky. Internally you thanked whoever heard you that you were in such good shape from even being in the military; you’d chased her a pretty far distance before you felt yourself starting to become exhausted.

“Hanji,” You huffed, slowing down. 

“What is it,” You heard Hanji tease. She was starting to slow down too, but she made sure she was out of your reach. “Running out of breath already?” 

“Just tell me what’s in your hand!”

With no response, Hanji turned a sharp corner. You groaned to yourself and decided to stop chasing her. You were sweating like hell, and you were huffing and puffing like a crazy person. You were sure you looked like one, too. You rested your hands on your knees, and looked around for somewhere to rest. Your eyes fell upon a spare wooden box in a dark, crooked alleyway. It wasn’t the prettiest-in fact it was a little creepy- but you only wanted to sit and catch your breath for a moment.

You sat on the box and rested your back on the brick wall, feeling yourself become wearier as time went on. Your eyes began to slowly close when-

“Y/N,” A velvety voice called above you. 

A warm cloak fell lightly upon your resting shoulders. You opened your E/C eyes and saw the soft grin of your love herself.

Hanji sat next to you and pulled your tired head onto her shoulders. “I was looking for you everywhere.”

“Was I out for that long?” You mumbled tiredly, inhaling her sweet, intense scent. You closed your eyes once more, but you weren’t asleep.

“No,” Hanji hummed. “But you were gone long enough to make me think.”

You remained silent, listening to her soft words.

“You’re still wondering I was holding in my hand, aren’t you?” Hanji brushed your hair with her fingers. You nodded.

“It’s a.. Well..” She fumbled over her words, and began to play with her hands. You peered up to see her face heating up.

You were confused. What could it have been? Then you wondered if you were pressing her too much.

“Hanji, its okay,” You started. “You don’t have to tell-”

Hanji cleared her throat. 

“I’ll put it plainly, its a ring.”

.  .  .

A ring?

Your lips parted ever so slightly. Your eyes were wide. “A ring?” You repeated your thoughts. “Hanji, does this mean you want to-”

“Yes,” Hanji was beaming now, but not at you. She had her starry eyes in the sky, while her arm pulled you close.

“Truth be told, want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Hanji began whimsically. “I’ve been working on making it for you for a while now.”

Suddenly it all made sense to you. The sleepless nights, the skipping meals. 

Had it had all been for you?

Your eyes filled with warm tears. Hanji’s delicate fingers lightly brushed them away.

“I want to show it to you,” She revealed a cloth in her palms, in the outline of a finger band. “But I can’t. At least right now I can’t.”

“Why is that?” You asked.

She turned to face you, wonder in her brown eyes. “I want to wait until the world is ours,” She exclaimed.

“When the titans are gone and remembered as societies nightmare, we can live together as a bickering old couple. I want to marry you so, so badly Y/N, but I want to do it right. I want to do it when this world is at peace. I want to die knowing I’m married to Y/N L/N.”

She grasped your hands tenderly within her own. Hanji stared into your emotional E/C eyes, with her own beautiful brown ones.

“What do you say, Y/N? Would you marry me?”

__

Present Day

“Hanji,”

Hanji swallowed the bile that burned the back of her throat. She tried so hard to avoid looking directly into your pained expression. Hanji absolutely hated hurting you like this.

As much as she wanted these final moments to last, she felt the rumble of titans approaching.

 She had to make this quick, and she hated it.

“Y/N,”

Hanji breathed shakily. With a quivering hand, she reached into her dark green cloak, watching as your red eyes trailed her every move.

“I hope that someday,” She inhaled sharply. “Someday, you can forgive me for what I’m about to do,”

Hanji’s fate was sealed, yet she kept that damn smile on her face as she spoke. Your heart pounded in your ears as Hanji finally approached you. She grasped both of your hands in hers, just like she’d done on that day.

“Y/N L/N,” She announced.

“I love you. Will you marry me?”

Your eyes widened. Your mouth fell slightly agape. 

No... This isn’t how it was supposed to happen...

You nodded, as if you were entranced. “Yes,” You mumbled breathily.

Hanji’s grin only spread across her whole face as she pulled you into a tight embrace. Hanji nuzzled her face into your neck. She was wetting it with tears, but you didn’t care. You tried so hard to take in and remember as much of her scent in as you could. You knew you would never smell it again.

“Thank you,” Her small voice whispered into your ear. “Thank you for everything.”

Soon, Hanji pulled away, but not before leaving a small peck atop of your lips.

And even as you screamed and cried and begged Hanji not to go,

even as Jean held you back from chasing your crazy scientist into the death mission,

Hanji smiled to herself as the world of Titans around her began to fade.

She’d finally gotten to do what she’d always wanted to.

__

You hadn’t even realized your palm was still closed from when Hanji had held you. You felt something cold within your fist. Cracking open your hands, your eyes brimmed, and your throat knotted at what you had saw.

A silver and gold ring.

___________

this is my first story in a while :))) i hope you enjoyedd- nila

[binunus]

college bf!rocky

a/n next is our rock and aegyo king sorry sanha park minhyuk !! also I was going to post this yesterday :( but me and my roommates got a little too lit for valentine’s and I literally sat for 7 hours straight in zoom so I couldn’t finish it until now but !! I hope you loves enjoy!!

→ genre: fluff, smut

→ word count: 4.9k

_________________________________

alright aright alrightttt

we’re gonna switch it up a little bit

add a little flavor

because as much as I would love to say that college bf!astro all got their partners in a cute and smooth sailing way

we all know relationships aren’t that easy

but before we get into how you and rocky met

major: dance

are we surprised? no

rocky is a prodigy in dance

he’s been dancing since he could walk

he started choreographing at age 6

it just made sense for him, like even his parents were like go pursue dance, you’re not a law or business type of kid

he can master any type of dance from jazz, to ballet, to street, to contemporary, to tango, whatever you can think of

he’s roommates with music tech!jinjin

jin literally takes care of him all the time bc rocky??? when he comes back to the apt after dance practice?? dead weight

only passes his gen ed classes bc eunwoo tutors him

if it weren’t for the boys, rocky would literally live in the dance studio

they make sure to drag him out for fun and food at least once a week

or they join and keep him company while he’s practicing

have they gotten noise complaints before while messing around in the dance studio? yes

rocky is loud alright, especially when he’s with astro

he’s a perfectionist, literally will not leave the studio until he’s 100% satisfied with his progress

oh the amount of times myungjun and jin nag at him to take care of his health

now now

you’re also a dance major

people could say that you and rocky are the top two dancers of your year

gasp a rivals to lovers au??? you betcha baby

granted you switched into a dancer major your second year so rocky technically had seniority

but boom baby as soon as you made your appearance, it rocked his world

now im not saying rocky’s cocky bc obviously he’s a cute hardworking humble boy

but was he used to always being placed first in evaluations or getting the highest marks??? yeah

so the first time you placed first and he placed second??? it lit a bit of a fire in him

he’s seen a ton of good dancers in his time, but no one has ever matched his capabilities better than you

there was an unspoken rivalry between you two, everyone knew about it 

you both always wanted to upstage the other

there was always a tension whenever you two were in the same room

but like...have either of you ever really talked to each other besides side remarks in class?

no

and it didn’t really help that the whole dance department basically pit you up against each other to see who was really the best dancer of your year

so you and rocky never had the proper introduction to a friendship, it just went straight to rivalry 

and then came the announcements for the end of the year showcase

and instead of putting on a solo, the department chairs decided to have you and rocky perform a duet

and you’ve never worked with him before so you were dreading the first time you met up

you to your roommate: ugh i can’t believe im partnered up with rocky, that arrogant rude–

your roommate: have you ever even talked to him, y/n? he’s actually very nice

you: no...but that’s what he wants you to believe!

your ego sorta just went along with the whole thing

and rocky was 15 min late to your meeting bc he was out eating food with the guys so your patience?? very thin

literally as soon as he stepped into the dance studio, the air turned stuffy

rocky could feel you glaring at him and he just smirks?? 

rocky: did I make you wait long y/n?

you: yeah you did

he liked pushing your buttons?? idk he just felt satisfaction knowing that any small of action of his affected you that much

it made him feel like he was winning or whatever

and god it took literally forever for you two to decide on a song and genre of performance for the showcase

you wanted contemporary, he wanted ballet

you were literally disagreeing so much on it that you had to ask Siri to flip a coin

and then you fought and said that Siri was rigged when it chose tails (contemporary)

so you decided on a happy? mix of both

rocky at the end of your first meeting: i get that we’re not exactly friends, y/n, but we have to work together so let’s at least be professional

you: i can if you can

rocky: fine

you two literally bicker like five year olds on a playground

even the guys are like ???? why are you being so childish ???

you have 2 months of preparation until the showcase and you start meeting once a week for choreography and practice since given the assignment

you two are pretty civil for the most part, you make the contemporary parts and he makes the ballet parts and then you combine it when you meet up and see how it can incorporate and complement each other

there’s not much joking around ?? like you know how rocky’s a clown when he’s teaching astro choreography?? it’s not like that at all

and honestly you two are too caught up in your rivalry and tension to notice that your styles really match and highlight each other well??

there’s definitely a lot of “i could do this better than you” from both sides

i repeat: you are children

and then there’s this one practice where you and rocky are trying a pas de deux for the first time

(i literally looked this term up, it’s basically what jungkook and jimin from bts did during the 2020 mma black swan intro...if you haven’t seen it, watch it bc it is perfection mmm chefs kiss)

and you don’t know if it’s because you didn’t have enough momentum or rocky didn’t prep himself enough for the lift but he ends up dropping you and you both fall

and you both immediately start blaming each other for the mishap

until you lift your hand to point at him and it just hurts

it’s like a switch goes off, rocky’s immediately concerned and he’s like gently taking your hand like: holy shit are you okay??

you shake your head and you’re wincing whenever you try to move it

you: ow fuck rocky, I think it’s sprained

and he suddenly feels so guilty, like he goes silent

you: can we stop for today? I’m gonna go get this checked out, make sure it’s not broken

rocky: do you want me to go with you?

you: no. I’ll see you next week.

boy he feels so bad, he texts you throughout the course of the following week asking if you’re okay, asking your roommate if you’re okay, telling you he’s sorry that he dropped you

you didn’t respond much, not bc you felt weird texting him–well, you did a little bit shhh–but bc you were beating yourself up for getting injured a month before the showcase

you show up to practice the next week with your wrist in a compression bandage

and he doesn’t greet you with a quip like he usually does, he immediately grabs your wrist (gently) and he’s like inspecting the bandage

you: uh...the doctor said I should be careful with it for a week or two if i want it to heal faster. so don’t bitch at me if i’m not going all out

rocky: y/n...i’m so sorry...I didn’t mean to injure you, it was my fault that we didn’t execute the pas de deux

you just shrug: it was both our faults...if I didn’t fall on my wrist maybe we could have avoided this little obstacle

rocky: if I caught you correctly, you wouldn’t have even fallen

you: are we really arguing right now about this??

and then the two of you just laugh??? 

this is the first real pleasant interaction you’ve had with him

and you notice like wow rocky had a nice smile

you: i should be back to normal before the showcase so we should be fine

rocky: don’t push it though while we’re practicing alright? if your wrist starts hurting then stop, and don’t even think about doing any floor choreo

the atmosphere between you and rocky change after that

he becomes pretty concerned about your recovery–and maybe it’s bc he still blames himself for the cause of it

each night before your set practice days, he always shoots you a text asking how you’re feeling and how your wrist is doing

he brings ice packs, painkillers, and extra bandages during your practices just in case you need it

and you’re actually pretty touched by his concern

about two weeks before the showcase, your wrist is back to full movement and you’re like excited to actually practice to your best ability

from now on you see each other twice a week, just to get that detail and fine-tuning perfected

rocky’s still a bit hesitant to have you go full out but you reassure him that you’re fine

you both try the pas de deux again the day you take your bandage off 

and you can see that he’s nervous to try it

you: rocky, i’m fully healed now. we haven’t practiced this move since the first time and we need it in our routine

rocky: but...y/n, what if I drop you again??

you: you won’t...i trust you 

and you really did, that move requires a lot of trust between partners and you know? maybe it didn’t work out the first time because of the lack of trust between you two

and so you go through the full routine and rocky was holding his breath when that part of the choreography came up but you both successfully did it!! and it was a beautiful move

he was so excited at the end of the run through that he hugged you

and you were smiling too bc this was the first time you did a full run through without any stops in between

you both don’t even notice that all the hostility is gone??

and the tension suddenly changed from hatred to...dare I say it...sexual

oo baby the day of the showcase you two were hella nervous 

but c’mon you and rocky were the best of the best so ofc you absolutely killed the performance

your energies literally merged as soon as the music started

every move was flawless

and you both had to face each other during your ending pose and you were just like looking at him like ??? wtf ??? did you maybe wanna kiss him??

and you know the look that rocky has in his eyes when he’s dancing

imagine that literally piercing into your soul

you got the shivers waiting for the lights to dim 

you both received a standing ovation after your duet obviously

astro watching it bc they always support rocky: they’re gonna fuck 100%

fast forward to the next term bc you both didn’t really have a reason to contact each other during summer break now that the showcase was done

you and rocky had two classes together, dance research and advanced modern technique

it was then that you started to see his actual personality and how goofy of a person he was

you still had a rivalry of course, but now it was healthy

instead of trying to bring each other down, you both started motivating each other to do better

and yes you’ve always been impressed with how good of a dancer rocky was (and vice versa), but now whenever you saw him practice you start to feel a little bit of stir in your stomach and shit are you blushing??

and then you two get paired up again for your midterm evaluation

your teacher: i saw the chemistry you had for the showcase last term, i think you two would work well together for this project

and god is your teacher trying to murder you??? the theme of this midterm was “couple dance” to encourage collaboration or whatever

you were just thankful that the song choice she gave you was more upbeat and not sensual bc you know for a fact that you would not survive doing a sexy dance routine with rocky

but that didn’t stop the way your skin felt like it was on fire whenever he touched you for partner-dependent moves

this time around, you did the choreography process together and it was actually pretty fun??

you and him would bounce back ideas and joke around whenever something looked stupid

you and rocky did this by the way for reference

and then there was one late night when you two were practicing

it was around 2 am, no one else was in the music building and you both didn’t have class the next day so you two were just like fuck it let’s just practice until campus security kicks us out or whatever

you both were literally dancing for four hours, not just this new routine but old ones and freestyles as well

and then you were doing your new routine and during the part where he had to twirl and dip you, you both fall again

but no one got injured this time luckily

and you both just burst out laughing, maybe you were a little delirious at this point in the night

you: i can’t believe you dropped me again

rocky’s laughing and you both just look at each other, and he’s hovering above you right???

and your heart is beating so loudly in your chest you’re positive he can hear it

and you’re thankful that your face was already hot from dancing so that he couldn’t tell that you were in fact blushing

rocky’s like looking at you for a good minute or so and he’s just like thinking in his head: have you always been this cute?

and maybe it’s bc you guys have been getting along so well lately and the vibes are??? immaculate

but the atmosphere suddenly gets super thick and he !! just !! leans down !! and !! kisses !! you !!

and phew baby you bet that you immediately respond to it

you’re literally making out on the floor for like five minutes

and mind you, five minutes is a long time

until rocky’s phone rings loudly through the speaker and you both suddenly separate

he scurries to his phone and you sit up trying to compose yourself 

jinjin: park minhyuk where are you?! it’s 3 am!!

you literally hear jinjin scolding rocky through the phone and you laugh a little bc it’s so cute how he’s getting nagged right now

rocky: hyung...im practicing...

jinjin: do i need to drag you out of there?! i’ll literally call bin to carry your ass to our apartment! how long have you been practicing huh?? have you eaten dinner at all??

rocky: okay okay I’ll come back home

he turns to you after ending the call and he’s so !! shy !!

rocky: I guess that’s the end of our practice haha...do you want me to walk you back to your place?? it’s pretty late out

you: yeah that’d be nice...hm you sure your hyung’s not gonna call a search party for you??

you’re teasing him and he just pouts

rocky: i’ll be fine

rocky walks you back to your apartment and it’s a little?? awkward?? 

but before you bid him goodbye he’s like: uh...the kiss earlier...sorry if I surprised you

your cheeks are hot again: it’s um...it’s okay, I didn’t mind it...it was actually pretty nice...I guess...

and rocky’s heart skips a beat and now he’s blushing: yeah...it was...i’ll see you in class then??

you: yeah, i’ll see you. text me when you get home okay?

he nods and waits until you’re safely inside and then he just starts grumbling to himself

rocky: i’ll see you in class?? could i say anything more stupid??? 

rocky’s adorable okay

him texting you when he gets back: im home :)

you: that’s good! good night rocky :)

he goes to the guys the day after like: i have a predicament !! me and y/n kissed !! 

jinjin: that’s why you were late last night??

eunwoo: you dirty dog, doing it in the dance studio??

rocky: we didn’t do anything else hyung !!

bin: so did you ask them out??

rocky: no...i said...i’ll see you in class

myungjun: i’ll see you in class?!?! are you an idiot??

sanha: hyung even I’d ask y/n out after that

rocky: i know !! im dumb okay!! help me

sanha: you’re a lost case sorry

jinjin: why don’t you start with, hey y/n do you wanna get some food with me??

rocky: AHHHH

yes he does want to ask you out, yes he does want to kiss you again more than he’d like to admit, but he’s shy

you’re not faring any better, you and roommate were literally talking about it all weekend

the next time you see rocky (in class), you two are awkward as fuck

you both keep stealing glances at each other and then if one of you get caught, you both immediately look away

those 50 minutes of class could not go by any slower

and you were so ready to book it after the professor dismissed you but then you hear rocky call your name

rocky: hey y/n, are you free right now?

you: uh yeah! why what’s up

rocky: do you...um...wanna get some coffee with me?? or food or something??

you: do you mean like just to hang out or...uh like a date?

rocky: a date...if you want it to be

and cue the blushies again

you and rocky end up going to this cute cafe and get smoothies bc neither of you were feeling caffeine at the moment

and the whole time you two are just ??? so cute and shy and awkward with each other ???

which is such a contrast from how you two would dance together

rocky’s so sweet, really the cutest boy

gives you so many butterflies

the two of you end up going on little cafe dates before practice 

and you’re all cute and wholesome

and then he turns all passionate and dominant when you start dancing

like wow alright rocky giving you whiplash or whatever

when you show the routine for your midterm, the teacher and other students give you both high praises 

and he’s all giddy after class and he goes up to you: i think its safe to say that we have really good chemistry when we work together, don’t you think?

you’re smiling hehe but you wanna mess with him a little: hmm i think we’re alright, but who knows, i might mesh well with someone else

and then he’s all frowny, a little jealous: what do you mean someone else? do you make out with someone who just has alright chemistry with you??

your eyes go wide and you put your hand over his mouth: im kidding!!

rocky just smirks at your embarrassed reaction and he like tickles your sides

and then he just grabs your hand like: don’t find another dance partner y/n, just be mine

how could you say no to that??? especially when rocky’s just looking all handsome and charming and shit??? exactly. you can’t and why would you ever say no in the first place??

you and rocky dating?? biiiig news in the dance department

and even outside of it

bc lowkey rocky had a bit of a fanclub bc of how good he is at dancing, are we shocked? no

the boys are so happy for him !!

you meet his friends literally the day the two of you start dating

and you’re a bit nervous meeting them bc ofc you want them to like you, they’re his friends

but they’re so sweet...and headass

when rocky brings you to their dinner, the five of them literally start applauding at your entrance

you were so confused and rocky’s just out here with second hand embarrassment

he’s the cutest boyfriend

shy with pda in public (unless you’re dancing), most he’ll do is hold your hand

but in private he’s very clingy

loves backhugging you

he also tickles you when he wants to be a little shit

which is 50% of the time

very playful bf, will tease you at least once every day

if you two are just practicing dancing, he’ll make any sort of excuse to hold you or kiss you

asddfadsjf he’s so cute

gets very soft at night especially when you two are worn out from practice

just wants to go back to your (or his) apartment and cuddle and sleep

imagine just you two cuddling in bed after hours of dancing and he’s just spooning you and he mumbles tiredly into your shoulder: you’re amazing y/n...you’re one of the best dancers i’ve ever seen

and before, his pride would have never allowed him to say that, but now it can

not really one for pet names in my opinion, but he does call you “my y/n”

after you two start dating, you begin to call him by his real name, minhyuk

or you say hyukie

he lowkey loves it when you call him that, it’s so endearing

the guys teasing him, cooing at rocky all gross like : heyyy hyukkie

then rocky just like crosses his arms: only y/n can call me hyukie

he didn’t realize he loves couple dances so much until you and him are dating

well he only loves it because you’re his partner ofc

alright hear me out !! slow dancing with rocky

slow !! dancing !! with !! rocky !!

he dims the lights in the dance studio until it’s just a single spotlight and some slow romantic music comes on and he just grabs you by the hand and twirls you once before pulling you close and you’re just swaying side to side

and then he presses your foreheads together and he’s just looking into your eyes and gives you the softest smile

!!! im freaking out!! i want this so bad !!

that’s how the first i love you comes out

surprise, you say it first

okay but like in the moment, the atmosphere is literally so perfect, and you can just see how much he treasures you and you always feel butterflies whenever he does this, but there was just something that night that made you say it

like your chest was constricting so hard and you were thinking to yourself, i love this man

and so you just said it

and omg the smile on rocky’s face just widens and he kisses you so sweetly before he says it back

loves kissing you, your lips are like a drug to him

can literally make out with you for hours

has pushed you against the walls of the practice room just for a little make out session

ahhh here we go ladies and gents

sex !! with !! rocky !!

first and foremost, dance studio sex??? yes

especially if it’s just you two late night practicing like the first time you kissed?

mirror kink? maybe so

and bc y’all are ~flexible~, you bet he likes bending your back like a pretzel

he’s a very passionate lover, your pleasure is his #1 priority

loves foreplay just as much as the main event

but oof his hips?? grrrrr bark bark ram me over with a truck

his stroke game is so good

literally knows how to fuck you in all the right places

and his stamina??? god tier, can go at it for hours on end

into edging and overstimulation, oof you bet you’re cumming at least twice during every session

i cannot stress this enough!! thigh riding

you know he has thighs of steel

will make you cum just from riding his thigh

most of the time you guys start off slow and sweet, and then just boom it turns it hard sex

will definitely get turned on from doing a sexy dance routine

the amount of times he’s wanted to just fuck you in the middle of class bc you turned him on?? but ofc he has public decency he won’t do that

he knows you get turned on from his fingers oops

anal or vaginal fingering?? he’s all for it baby

he’s loud during sex, all the grunting, huffing, growling, oo im getting chills

not afraid to tell you how good you’re making him feel

not really into spanking, but he grips a lot, like his fingernails have definitely left some deep imprints in your hips or your ass

hair pulling?? yes, both sides receiving

okay but if you call him rocky during sex? big turn on

i can’t explain why, it just is

favorite position?? cowgirl

he loves when you’re on top of him

yes he likes seeing you try to fuck yourself on him

and then when he can’t take it anymore and just grabs your hips and thrusts up into you until your body literally collapses on him

he always tries to make you cum first but oops sometimes baby just busts a nut

yes you will probably tease him about it and then he’ll just shut you up by kissing you 

on another note, no way to turn rocky on faster than sucking on his bottom lip when you’re kissing

will cuddle you after cumming, like he doesn’t care if either of you are sweaty or messy, he’s hugging you for at least five minutes

honestly becomes a baby after sex so it’s more like you’re giving him after care sksksk

the switch he makes from being a sex fiend to a clingy cuddly boy? whiplash

like you need to go to the bathroom to pee or something and he’s like: but...i wanna hug u

i would risk it all for rocky yes

anyway after graduating, rocky becomes a choreographer for this really famous dance studio and get recruited to join a highly-competitive dance troupe

you both do long distance for a little bit bc obviously he’s back home but you have to travel with your group for competitions, sometimes even internationally

and so that caused some strain in your relationship bc distance sucks, but you would always make sure to call him every night before going to bed and despite any time zone difference, he would always answer

your biggest supporter !! literally flew out to surprise you during a big dance competition in london or whatever and you cried happy tears bc was he really there right now??

that’s when you knew that he was the one :’)

you spent the night w him in his hotel room and after a good couple rounds of reunion sex, you were like trying to test the waters a little bit: i missed you hyukie

rocky: i missed you too, but now that you’re here with me, nothing else matters

you: what do you really think about this long distance thing??

rocky: it sucks...but i know it made us stronger. i feel like we can get through anything now

you: yeah, i agree

rocky getting paranoid: omg why? are you thinking of living abroad?? y/n, do i need to start looking at dance studios out here??

you have to hold in your laughter bc he’s so cute: why? would you move out of the county for me if i wanted to??

rocky: i mean...if you’re thinking of leaving for good...then yeah.

he gets so shy and quiet and you’re just !! wow you love him !! he’s yours !!

you kiss him shortly and you smile: no, i’m not gonna live abroad. I miss being home and I miss seeing you all the time. I told you before, I’m thinking of leaving the troupe in two months and then gonna find a job back home for good.

he lets out a sigh of relief: you scared me a little

you just laugh: I only wanted to confirm something and hmm I was right

rocky: what did you wanna confirm??

you being a confident baddie: that I wanna be with you for the rest of my life

rocky feeling his heart implode: you mean it??

you scoffing: why would I be lying about this?

he just laughs and kisses you: I wanna be with you too...I’ve been thinking it since the last time you visited. How much I love you and how much I hated seeing you leave for who knows how long, but I didn’t wanna say anything bc you’re still living your life and I didn’t want a promise like this to influence you to come back if you didn’t want to yet.

two months later you’re back for good and move in with rocky

you end up becoming a choreographer at his dance studio too

you and rocky: the couple™

and you live happily ever after

somewhere down the line...

sanha: hey remember when you two hated each other?

eunwoo: remember when you injured y/n??

bin: remember when you freaked out to us about your first kiss together

myungjun: and you said i’LL sEe yOu iN cLaSs

jinjin: those were fun times, right hyukie?

rocky: i hate you all

__________________________________________________

2-16-21

[atalana]

[copied over from my cr blog, also this is gonna get long, i’d apologise but im not sorry]

okay, so

this is a rant probably about 7 years in the making, bc when i first watched lok i had not done any music study, i had not done any composing of my own, my knowledge of music theory was at a primary school level and i still thought tv soundtracks were just made by one person composing a whole cache of music and then the audio editors pick and choose what track to place where

(spoiler alert that’s not how film and tv scoring works, i have now done a music composition course where we had to score a short film, among other things, and i have so much more respect for tv composers jesus christ)

but this one stuck out to me even way back then, bc me barely knowing what a leitmotif was was like “hey this one little refrain keeps popping up whenever bolin does lavabending, and i like it, i’m gonna see if it’s on the soundtrack”

it was not, and that’s sort of where i left it back in 2014, but i actually did a rewatch of lok pretty recently out of nostalgia, and then noticed it even more

and to explain why (and this is also a little bit why five’s stuck out to me in tua, i’ll get to that in another ask), let’s cover, leitmotifs, and tv scoring in general

so a leitmotif is basically just a short musical idea that represents something in a piece of music. when i studied motivic development we were encouraged to make that motif four notes or less, and then develop it into something longer (aka a theme), because if you can constantly come back to a really short idea while keeping the piece moving, that’s what makes a piece of music memorable

(you can ignore those rules on purpose but that’s a different essay)

so the most common way that a leitmotif shows up in soundtracks is to represent a character or a location - you play the motif when that character shows up or when you’re in that location and boom, the audience associates that motif with that person place or thing, and you can then use this to tell the audience things without actually telling them. for example, star wars playing the imperial march whenever someone does something darth vader related - darth vader isn’t on screen, but you can feel his presence, because his music is playing

and if we were a film score, where we have two hours to show one particular character’s development, great! we give them a simple motif, and then as they grow as a person we change their motif to reflect what is happening to them, until we end up with something that communicates on a subconscious level how much they’ve grown. we toss in as much symbolism as we can, and we have a really great soundtrack that’s instantly memorable

tv scoring, is harder. partially because of time constraints (have you ever composed half an hour of original music a week, and had to make sure it fits perfectly with every beat of what’s happening on screen? these guys have), partially because there’s a much larger focus on ensemble casts

so what atla and lok do, for the most part, is not score individual character motifs for everyone. this is fairly common in tv soundtracks, instead we score ideas, concepts, and feelings - these’ll come up a lot more and give you more information than just “oh hey this character’s on screen”

the avatar state, for example, has the strongest and most recognisable theme across both shows. i’m linking an atla track in here because it has the best example but you’ll know this shows up with korra too - and with particularly important moments for wan, for kyoshi, etc. they also appear in the opening of both shows, four strong notes that start and end on the same note (in the case of what i’m linking, it’s an F#)

the first part of this track is the more uncertain, pensive theme that comes up when both avatars are feeling doubt/worry/sadness, but then it transitions into the more recognisable four. worth noting though, those are both basically the same motif. if i write them out back to back, you’ll notice they both have four notes and start and end on F#. if i had to guess, four notes four elements, and it comes back to the start because the avatar is a cycle.

korra has a theme for when she’s fighting, but not an individual character theme. the airbenders as a concept have a theme, republic city has thematic instruments, as do some big name characters, like iroh and his tsungi horn (this is also a cross-series thing, he’s always playing it in atla, it shows up when zuko has to make big moral decisions, and when we first meet iroh in the spirit world in lok, it shows up there too, to let the audience know who this is before we properly see him)

so, if korra doesn’t get a single theme and instead has several for different aspects of her life, and mako and asami follow along with the mood of the story like all the other characters, the fact that bolin has a personal leitmotif at all, let alone a solid, developing one, is pretty remarkable!

now, granted, it mostly starts with book 3, before then he was like every other character, but it has clear symbolism through those last two books! and, initially i thought it was related only to his lavabending, since that’s most of when it shows up, but since my rewatch, i’ve started calling it his hero theme

see, when people wanna criticise mako and bolin, usually the comments they get are that bolin’s too immature and mako’s too serious/uptight. but like, that’s how they work, you can’t analyse either of them without the context of the other. since they were little kids on the streets, bolin chases his heart and mako makes sure they don’t die from it, that is their entire childhood. and neither would have got here on their own because mako wouldn’t take the necessary risks and bolin wouldn’t take the necessary precautions. (like. remove either one from the equation and they’d still be working for the triple threats bc s1 and their flashback miniseries make pretty clear that bolin got them out and mako kept them out)

and then book 2 proves it! because it splits team avatar up, and what happens? bolin is totally taken advantage of by varrick and used as a pawn in his evil plan and mako ends up in jail

so what’s book 3, to them? it’s, being able to find themselves without having that codependency. mako no longer has someone to protect, which is what he’s based his whole life around so far - bolin’s doing fine and he’s no longer dating either korra or asami. and bolin’s trying his hand at some of that responsibility (look at how he immediately adopts kai who is explicitly them but younger because he wants to be the older brother for once). most importantly, they find the rest of their family, and stop being defined by being orphans. they don’t have to be that singular piece of a puzzle, they can just be themselves. and that’s where bolin’s character really starts to shine, because that’s when they bring in the bending plot, and bending, perhaps more than any other character, really gets to the heart of who bolin is

if you want more of my thoughts on that i have an essay here, but tl;dr: bolin’s an extremely powerful earthbender, but he’s not a metalbender because metalbending requires you to double down on the earth characteristics and think like an earthbender, and bolin doesn’t, he’s too fluid for that, which is one of his major strengths, so of course he can lavabend

and finally - to his motif itself! (as a note, i’ve put all of these in the same key to show where it repeats, but there’s a variety of keys used in the show)

as far as i can find, it first shows up in s3e8, when bolin stuns p’li with this well placed shot

[Edit: it first showed up in the s2 finale, but again in a simplified version and again with him doing something heroic with earthbending, so we can still start the analysis here]

mako volunteers bolin for that job, because he knew bolin was capable of it. why? because bolin landed an identical shot earlier in the episode, after trying to metalbend, getting frustrated he can’t, and cheating with some extremely well aimed earthbending. it’s just a short refrain and you barely notice it, but it’s the first connection of this motif with the theme of bolin’s bending

it looks like this, and it’s always played on a trumpet, which is part of why i call it the hero theme, because, if you’re looking at music from a western perspective, trumpets were used to herald kings, and then used to represent military glory, and then when superhero themes started happening, they used trumpets too - it’s basically western music shorthand for hero these days

(it’s also symmetrical so that helps with the good vibes)

and he’s saving everyone here, so it’s linked to his bending, but it’s also linked to his heroism

it ties the two together, and they are tied together.

when’s the next time it shows up? episode 10, when the brothers are in prison in ba sing se, and bolin tries to metalbend them out. again, he’s doing this to save people, and this motif gets a few notes added on to the end in a raising pattern - they’re inspiring, but they don’t go anywhere. which is exactly what happens in the scene, because he’s trying to go about this in the wrong way. mako believes in him, but it won’t (and doesn’t) work

it appears in episode 12 when bolin saves everyone from ghazan destroying the temple, in a more fancy orchestral remake of the first version - it’s impressive, but it hasn’t actually developed yet, it’s just his discovery of it

the book 3 finale already has its own fucking amazing soundtrack, i love that entire episode’s score, but it gets its own moment there too, and the first real development!

because what we hear is not what we’ve heard before. we know it’s the same theme, because it’s using those signature trumpets, but it’s the second part of this phrase, the answer to the question supplied by the first one. why? because bolin’s figured out who he is and he’s starting to use it. it still hasn’t settled yet though, it’s early days and he’s still just turning ghazan’s lava back on him, so again, it raises, leaving it on a question mark

it doesn’t appear in s4e7 when he lavabends as a warning against the escaped prisoners, because he’s using it as a threat, not to help people. but it does later in the episode when he uses lavabending to save them from kuvira. and that’s when we get the first full phrase, question and answer

it keeps the first motif identical, takes out the first note of the second, and ties them together - except now it’s not open ended, now it knows where it’s going - it’s been three years, at this point bolin is confident in both himself and his bending

and then that phrase appears all over the place in the finale, because all bolin does is save people - everyone from the exploding building, he slows the giant mecha with lavabending, he saves opal, he slows the giant mecha again by collapsing a building on it, and most importantly, he’s the one rescuing his brother this time, instead of the other way around (though that one doesn’t get a motif appearance bc admittedly a fuck ton of other things are happening in the soundtrack at the time)

so to that question asked in book three - who is bolin when not next to someone else? well, funnily enough, we saw it in book two as well, just in a warped way, playing nuktuk. it just wasn’t truly him because it was created by varrick, and he needed to get away from varrick too. the question put forward by the narrative is who is bolin, and the answer given by the music is, he is a hero. and i don’t know why bolin is the only one to get a theme like this, but i think it may have something to do with the fact that, while everyone in team avatar has been a hero and saved people, he is the only one who has, from the start, solely been motivated by wanting to help people. he follows his heart, and his heart cares, about everyone. it’s been the driving force behind almost everything he’s ever done. and i love him so much

[unholyobsessions]

the good side

Pairing: former Luke x fem!Reader, Julie x Luke

Description: In the end, you ended up hurt and Luke ended up happy

A/N: this is kinda all over the place but i actually really like it

Warnings: heartbreak, alluded depression

Word Count: 2.0k

Prompt for jatp song fic february: week 1 Romance. A failed relationship based on The Good Side by Troye Sivan. @jatpsongficfeb @dream-a-little-bigger-x @bright-molina​ 

Masterlist

Happiness

That’s the one word you would have used three months ago to describe your relationship with Luke. When seeing his smile made yours grow wider, and looking into his eyes made you fall more in love.

Complicated

The word you would have used two months ago, when the fights were a little more common than you liked to admit and both of you were hurt by words you couldn’t take back. 

Crumbling

Is what it was a month ago, when you would roll over in the morning to find Luke already gone and the silence in the apartment rang louder than the screaming matches that followed. 

Over 

Is the word you use now, as Luke packs what is left of his clothes and slams the door behind him, leaving you to fall to your knees and cry at the loss of his arms around you. The weight of the promise rings in your hand is too much and you throw them at the door. 

Heartbreak isn’t an emotion you’re unfamiliar with, you’ve had your fair share of failed relationships. But you never expected to feel this with Luke. 

Luke who told you he was going to marry you one day. Who would hold you close and whisper lyrics of love songs he had written for you, proclamations of adoration that he promised to sing to the world one day.  

You stay in the empty hallway, loud sobs racking your body until the sun starts to rise over the horizon, showering the room with a golden glow from the window. 

Your throat is burning and you can barely feel your legs, but you force yourself to get up. You head to the shower, letting the burning water pelt against your skin until it turns cold. 

Your friend comes over later that day but you can’t bring yourself to explain. She holds you close against her chest, promising that everything will get better, but you’re not sure if you believe her. There’s too many memories, too much love still in your heart that you don’t want to let go off. Letting go means accepting it’s over and deep down, you don’t want it to be. 

You stay in bed for a week, not having the strength nor the motivation to get up. Other friends come over, forcing you to eat and you do so robotically. Life doesn’t feel real. You feel as if this is all some terrible dream and when you wake up, you’ll be in Luke’s arms again. 

. . .

Luke is on Cloud 9. His fingers sting from the long hours of playing his guitar and his throat feels sore from months of singing lyrics into a microphone, only to hear people sing them back to him. 

The last not of the last song echoes in his ear and he turns around, grinning at Alex who is holding the cymbal with the tips of his fingers. Julie holds the note longer than any of them, her voice blending with the screams of the fans. Reggie is bouncing, still full of adrenaline and Luke admires him, because he is exhausted and can barely stand on his feet. 

“Thank you L.A. for making our last show one of the best, we’re Julie and the Phantoms-“ 

“Tell your friends,” the three guys join Julie for the last statement. With a final bow, they all exit the stage and in a flurry of excitement, Luke jumps on Alex’s back. This has declared the end of their first world tour and although Luke loved it, he is sure he could sleep for the next twenty years. 

He met them, the band, shortly after breaking up with you, at an open mic night. Right as his set ended, he was ambushed by his now bandmates, Alex, Reggie, and Julie, all of whom started rambling and shooting him rapid-fire questions until his head spun. He clearly remembers putting his hands up and yelling “Shut up!” Causing all three mouths to snap closed. He proceeded, “What exactly are you asking me?”

It was Julie who spoke, “We want you to join our band.” 

Everything seemed fast paced from then, it started with him meeting with them, trying out writing songs together and things just clicked. Every thought was finished by Julie, every melody completed by Reggie, every idea supported by Alex. 

And, caught in the moment, he didn’t find the time to be heartbroken, to miss you. He got over you before he even realized it and suddenly, he was falling in love again. 

Luke naturally gravitates toward Julie, orbiting around her like the earth does the sun. He can’t help it, and he’s not sure he understands it. He just finds himself longing for those small, unintentional touches, the intense eye contact during a song, the proximity of sharing a mic with her. 

Then it happens. Julie is playing a melody on the piano, and Luke is sitting next to her, eyes closed and envisioning the lyrics forming before him. Julie shifts and now her thigh is pressed against Luke’s. His eyes snap open and he turns to her, finding her already looking at him. His eyes shift down and he registers a small nod of her head, and before he can think himself out of it, he surges forward, capturing her lips in a kiss that takes both their breath away. 

They smile lovingly at each other when they pull away and then they continue writing the song. 

. . . 

You haven’t heard from Luke. Not since the door closed. You haven’t heard his voice for over a year but you recognize it as soon as you hear it on the radio. 

Step into my world

Bittersweet love story 'bout a girl

You hadn’t been paying attention to the station, or what the radio host was saying. But you know, you are so sure that it is Luke singing the song. Your heart clenches as you listen to the lyrics, ones you had never heard in your life, which means that he had written this after the breakup. Your chest aches with hope, could this be about you? Is there still some part of him that wants you back? Still loves you as much as you love him? 

It takes only a few seconds for your hope to be crushed, because a new voice starts singing, a woman’s voice. 

Here in front of me

Shining so much brighter

Than I have ever seen

And it’s stupid, because you can’t see them, the song isn’t even live. It’s a recorded studio version, most likely recorded separately, but somehow you can still feel it. 

Love. Pure unadulterated love, that this girl feels for Luke, your Luke. And that Luke feels for her. 

It crushes you. Tears starts streaming down you face and a heart-wrenching sob cuts through your throat. You pull over, ignoring the honking of the car behind you as you merge into the next lane. Straight from a movie, it starts to rain, and you change the station, not bearing to listen to the love of your life fall in love with someone else. 

The tears don’t stop coming and you turn the volume up, not wanting to hear the sound of your own anguish. You stay there for an hour, until you’ve run out of tears, and your throat feels raw. 

You somehow make your way home and as soon as your head hit the pillow, you cry yourself to sleep.

. . .

Luke saw you once, two years after you parted ways. You didn’t see him, too busy staring down at the street as your friends dragged you to a store. It was clear to anyone, but especially to him, that you were miserable. And Luke didn’t want to believe that it was because of him, despite what people say his ego isn’t that big. So he followed you, calling out to Julie, Alex, and Reggie where he was going. 

He stayed hidden, not wanting you to notice him. He was about to give up after fifteen minutes of finding out nothing, when one of his songs started booming from the store speakers. 

Luke sees you freeze and then sees your friends immediately lead you out of the store. He hides behind a rack of clothes when you walk past him and he spots a trail of tears falling down your cheeks. 

He doesn’t want to believe it, he thought you would be okay. He never expected you to not get over him. He wanted you to move on, find happiness. Just like he did. 

He doesn’t know how long he stands there, and is shocked when he feels a hand on his arm. Whirling around, he comes face to face with Julie, who has a worried look on her face. 

“Luke? You okay?” Alex and Reggie are a few steps behind her, both equally confused. 

“Yeah Jules,” he presses a kiss to her temple for good measure and she smiles up at him. “I’m just thinking about a new song.” 

. . .

It takes Luke a few minutes to register that the fans are still screaming. 

“One more! One more! One more!” Echoes through out the arena. They all look at each other, wondering if they should go out there again, and play one more song. Eventually, the love for their fans beats their tiredness and they bound back up the steps and to the stage, their instruments still there. 

“Alright L.A. we’ll give you guys one more song.” Alex says into his mic, twirling a drumstick around his fingers. Luke pulls the strap of his guitar over his body along with Reggie and Julie goes to sit on her keyboard. 

Luke leans forward on his mic, and he realizes that they didn’t discuss what song they were going to play. He turn his head and it seems that his bandmates are all thinking the same thing because they start sending each other looks. Luke is about to give his own input, but for some reason, decides to turn his head. 

What he sees knocks the breath out of him. You’re standing there, in a worn out pair of black jeans and a random t-shirt. He feels himself lean forward again, starting to speak without even consulting his band. “This next song is one that we’ve been working on,” he pauses to look at Julie. They all know what song he’s talking about, because it’s the only song he’s been able to finish in the last few months, as if the universe won’t let him write another song until he achieves closure. His girlfriend nods at him and starts playing the melody. With a small, shy smile, he looks directly at you, willing you to understand. “Hope you like it.” 

I got the good side of things

Your friend dragged you to the concert. Not telling you whose it was until you were already inside the arena. You wanted to run away and there were tears already welling up in your eyes. She pulled you to your seats and promptly scolded you, telling you that this was your chance. Your chance at closure, to finally write the ending to the Luke chapter of your life. “You won’t get over him unless you confront him,” she said. And knowing that you would never talk to him, going to his concert seemed like the best way. 

You hate to admit that she’s right. At first, you had to bite down tears and force yourself to stay, but then you find yourself getting lost in the music. You enjoy yourself and as the concert came to a close, you felt that maybe, it is possible to move on. 

But then they came back out. And every word, every lyric, every note change struck deeper and deeper within you, and as you meet Luke’s eyes, which are looking only at you, you know who the song is meant for. 

And baby, I apologize

But you can’t do it. You can’t forgive him, not yet. Maybe not ever. You can try to forget about him but the scars he left behind will always be there, as a reminder of what you lost. And as the last note comes to a close, Luke’s voice drowned out by screams, you shake your head. 

Luke’s shoulders fall but he nods, he understands. You walk away and he lets you, because what he wrote, what he just sang, still holds true. 

[shyvioletcat]

Ohohohohohoh can I pleeeeeeease have #3 (will you make a gingerbread house with me?) and maybe #18 (merry christmas, motherfuckers!) for Rowaelin? I know from personal experience that might not be enough of a prompt so I'll sprinkle in #4 (excuse me-where is my christmas kiss?) in if possible. 😍

This seriously has not plot. I just poured a bunch of fluff in a bowl and tried to make a cake from it. Day 2 of my Rowaelin Holiday Celebration.

~~~~~

Holiday music played softly through the speakers in the car, Aelin humming along. Movement caught her eye and she saw Rowan tapping away on the steering wheel in time with the music, he looked at her and gave her a smile when he saw she had noticed. They were on their way to Elide and Lorcan’s place for their holiday get together with their friends. But what was probably the most exciting thing about Yulemas this year was their passenger in the back.

There was a soft thump, followed by a jingle, that was followed by a soft coo that had Rowan turning down the music a little more so he could hear it better. Elspeth had just figured out that she actually had limbs and moving them around erratically was her new favourite form of entertainment. Rowan looked into in the rear view mirror so he could see their two month old in the reflection of the mirror on the headrest of the backseat, and he smiled at what he saw.

“She’s so cute,” he said, utterly smitten.

“Well, I made her, so,” Aelin said by way of explanation. 

Rowan reached over and held Aelin’s hand. “That you did, and you did a very good job of it too.”

That made Aelin laugh, squeezing Rowan’s hand as they kept driving. It wasn’t too much longer before they arrived, parking on the street in front of the Lochan-Salvaterre home. As soon as they stopped Rowan was out of the car, Aelin left him to get their daughter out of the car while she gathered the bags at her feet. When she got out of the Rowan had the infant out of the car seat holding her so she faced outwards. Aelin pulled her little beanie over the wispy blonde hair while she was still in his arms.

Then Rowan took Aelin’s free hand in his and their little family made their way up to the front door. They didn’t even get a chance to open it themselves before it was swung wide open. 

“What in the name of Hellas have you done?” Lorcan’s voice boomed in the quiet night.

Aelin grinned, she knew exactly what he was talking about. All three of them were dressed in matching ugly christmas sweaters, knitted to almost gaudy perfection. She glanced at Rowan who was beaming, and then pulled at Elspeth’s sleeve so it covered her tiny fist. 

“Let us in already, it’s freezing out here,” Aelin scolded, Lorcan still standing in the doorway.

He immediately stepped aside, shaking his head. Once inside, before Rowan could even protest, Lorcan had lifted the baby out of Rowan’s grasp and was holding her up so that he could see the whole outfit. 

“She looks ridiculous and it’s just mean,” Lorcan muttered. “Come on, Elsie-baby. Let’s get you away from your cruel parents. I hope you vomit on this ugly excuse of a sweater.”

And just like that their child was whisked away into the party. Rowan was helping Aelin sort the bags out when another child approached them.

“Aunty Ae!,” Ruben said excitedly.

“Rue!” Aelin said back, hugging the boy back as he hugged her legs.

The four year old grinned up at her, his Ashryver eyes gleaming with excitement. “Will you make a gingerbread house with me?”

“Of course I will,” Aelin replied. “I’ll just put these things down and then I’ll be right with you.”

“You promise?” 

“I promise,” Aelin swore. She looked at Rowan who was looking a little torn. “Go follow her around, I know you want to.” Aelin gave him a nudge in the direction of Lorcan who was showing everyone the baby, no doubt saying slanderous things about the sweater. Elide brought their own son over, the nearly one year old was very excited to see the baby.

“I don’t know why he’s ragging on us,” Rowan said. “Korbin is literally dressed as a reindeer.”

Indeed he was. Dressed in a little fleece reindeer footed suit, a hood with antlers and everything, locks of his dark hair poking out. Rowan left her then, heading into the party. Aelin put the presents under the tree, dropped the food off in the kitchen where she stayed at the bench to help Ruben with his gingerbread house. She was cutting sour straps for shingles for the roof when Fenrys and Asterin arrived, the open plan of the living, dining and kitchen giving her a good view of the party. Aelin could tell he’d arrived already a little tipsy from the grin on his face. Fenrys stopped in the entryway to the living room, arms spread wide, ready to greet the rest of the guys who had set up on the couches. 

“Merry Yulemas motherfu—“

Asterin clamped her hand over his mouth. “Fen, the kids.”

“What? It’s not like it’s a lie,” he said, giving a sweeping gesture at Rowan, Aedion and Lorcan.

Aelin snorted, trying her hardest not to laugh.

“What are you laughing at, Aunty Ae?” Ruben enquired, making a jellybean path.

“Uncle Fenrys is very inappropriate,” Aelin answered.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that he gets into a lot of trouble all the time,” Aelin explained. 

“Santa won’t be bringing him presents then,” the boy said very seriously.

That made Aelin laugh again. “You’re right.”

Once the gingerbread house met Ruben’s approval they joined the rest of the party in the living room. Aelin tucked herself into the couch beside Rowan, her nephew clambering onto her lap. Her husband had managed to gain custody of their daughter again, grinning as he played with her. She was lying on his chest, her elbows propping her head up as Rowan kissed her chubby cheeks over and over, making her coo in delight, giving her father her most darling gummy smile. The main event in the room was Lorcan and Fenrys trying to get Korbin to walk between them, but Aelin could look away from Rowan and Elspeth. There was such joy on his face as he interacted with their daughter, pressing smacking kisses to her cheeks. They both laughed when he went to kiss her again, but she turned her head, catching his nose in her mouth. 

Rowan tipped his head back and laughed. “I love you so much, my little one.”

At that Elspeth laid her head on his chest, tired from holding herself up for so long, and spotted her fist and worked very hard to get it into her mouth. Aelin stretched the sleeve of her sweater over her hand and wiped the spit off Rowan’s nose.

“Hey,” Aelin said when her job was done. “Where’s *my* Yulemas kiss?”

Rowan gave her a lopsided smile as he lent in, Aelin meeting him halfway sharing a kiss in the chaos and fun of the night.

“Happy Yulemas, Fireheart.”

Aelin kissed him again. “Happy Yulemas Buzzard.”

~~~~~

Tags: @fucking-winchester-trash // @literary-licorice // @galyxsy // @tangledraysofsunshine // @highqueenofelfhame // @3am-reading // @soup-that-is-too-hawt // @aelinfire-bringer // @nalgenewhore // @highladysith // @http-itsrebecca // @sleep-and-books // @alifletcher2012 // @westofmoon // @sleeping-and-books // @ttakeitbacknoww // @armixers-unite // @mariamuses // @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen // @velarian-trash // @queenofxhearts // @heroesofterrasen // @highladyofstoriesandmusic // @empire-of-wildfire // @camerooonchiu // @crackedship // @lowhangingtreebranches // @over300books // @yourwhisperingshadows // @thesirenwashere // @tswaney17 // @impossiblescissorspeachpaper // @cat5313 // @judelovescardan // @flowerspringsea // @chaoticskyy // @the-regal-warrior // @fanfictrash3000 // @blueeyes425 // @starseternalnighttriumphant // @bamchickawowow // @thehuntressofmoon // @giorgia-the-trashpanda // @flora-and-fae // @thereaderandfangirl // @illyrian-bookworm // @chemicha // @meltalgel-ig // @gay-book-nerd // @that-odd-puzzle-piece // @i-love-all-books // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato // @girl-who-reads-the-books // @hizqueen4life // @the-third-me // @queen-of-glass // @bestmelle // @cursebreaker29 // @b00kworm // @superspiritfestival // @aesthetics-11 // @maastrash // @mynewdreamwasyou // @the-last-apprentice // @charincharge // @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln // @scarznstars // @absolute-dissapointment // @thesurielships // @df3ndyr // @trinitybailey2003 // @ladywitchling // @booknerdproblems // @rowaelin-cressworth // @sevenfreckles-for-sevenloves // @rolltide7 // @scandinavianromantic // @tillyrubes10 // @starwarsslytherin // @minaidss // @paytin77 // @jesstargaryenqueen // @anntheintrovert // @starborn-faerie-queen // @loudphantomdragon // @woollycat22 // @claralady // @perseusannabeth // @fangirlprincess09 // @maddymelv // @sierrareads // @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx // @jlinez // @littleboxofthunder // @empress-ofbloodshed // @booksbqueen // @rowanwhitethornisbae // @aelin-queen-of-terrasen // @alyx801 // @amandaswallowtail // @louiseleblancdiggory // @abookishfreak

[ateezmakemeweep]

 you’re the one that i want (part 21)

word count: 8k

angst, fluff

(part 20) (series masterlist)

the next week and a half was full of...adjustments.

settling back into your bedroom at the beach house, finally telling your aunt everything that really happened to you throughout the years, learning and accepting the fact that, now that you’ve told someone, you won’t ever have to see your parents again.

that had, oddly enough, been the hardest one to deal with. not because you wanted to see them or thought they would miss you but because it almost seemed too good to be true.

could it all be over, just like that? do you really never have to see them again?

“you’ll never see them again, i can promise you that, y/n,” your aunt said, working to stuff sweaters and jeans into your suitcase.

she had watched you fumble with your clothes for a whole minute, hands still shaking from fear and adrenaline before seonghwa sat you down on your bed and she took over.

“i...really?” you squeaked out innocently, eyes on your aunt who had a determined look in her eye.

it was a look she had since the moment she came in, hugging you and allowing you both to cry for a few moments in guilt and despair over the horrific situation; but after that passing moment, she meant all business.

she told you you’ll pack up what you can today, take everything you need for a month until you and her can settle everything with your parents officially.

but are they really gonna allow that? you don’t think so. you don’t think they’re gonna fight for you but they’re surely not gonna allow your aunt to come in and start making all the rules.

“if they don’t want the police being called, then that’s exactly what they’re gonna do,” she said adamantly, looking over at seonghwa when he makes a deep, guttural noise in the back of his throat.

he was knelt between your legs the second you sat down, looking up at you and running his fingers over your kneecaps soothingly.

you really looked like you were about to fall apart and he couldn’t help the sinking feeling in his chest as he watched you try to accept the fact that you could be away from them now.

that you didn’t have to be scared of living in this house anymore, walking on eggshells and always expecting someone to lash out and hurt you for just speaking.

“the police should be involved anyway,” seonghwa growls lowly, his skin prickling at the thought of your parents getting out of this unharmed.

because while he knows it’s a common thing, the process of an investigation grueling and traumatizing, he hates to think they won’t be punished in any way for doing this to you.

“no. no police,” you quickly say, your head snapping down to him and he frowns at how fast tears have gathered in your eyes again. “i.. don’t think i could handle that. they would be so mad, i- please, no. it’s bad enough that i said anything, please don’t-

“hey, hey, it’s okay,” seonghwa says softly, rising to his feet to wrap his arms around your quivering body. your face falls into his stomach as he gently strokes your hair, his lowly spoken “it’s okay,” the only sound in the room apart from muffled cries and your aunt’s shoes clacking against the wood floor.

she has about a million questions regarding the abuse seonghwa told her about but she’s also confused as to why he’s here in the first place? did you call him? did he someone just know to come to you?

a car door closing outside causes you to pull away and gasp, the woman’s eyes meeting seonghwa’s warningly; they don’t know what’s about to happen but they know that you can’t get hurt anymore. that neither of them are gonna allow you to get berated any longer by those two monsters.

seonghwa moves to look out the window and his heart nearly cracks when you reach out and pull him back to you, eyes wide and teary as you shake your head.

he has to bite the inside of his cheek so tears don’t burn his own eyes, telling you gently that he’s just gonna look out the blinds.

and when he does, you hear him mutter “it’s your mom,” which immediately sends your aunt into motion. she throws down a pair of jeans and goes out into the hallway, the vigorous clacking of her shoes echoing through the hallway and making your heart pound in your chest.

she’s gonna get hurt too.

your mom’s gonna fight with her too and you can’t be responsible for anyone else getting hurt. you should’ve never said anything in the first place, you should’ve never involved people you love and care about and-

“you gotta stay here, baby,” you hear lowly, seonghwa grabbing you around the waist as he stops you from running out the door.

“i should be out there,” you cry softly, trying to fight against his hold but becoming increasingly dejected and weak. “what if she does something to-”

“she’ll be fine,” he assures you, his lips pressed against the back of your head in an effort to calm you.

but the house is so eerily quiet, you and seonghwa can only listen intently out the door. his arm is still wrapped around your waist until a few moments later, a loud commotion breaks out and there’s two pairs of feet stomping back down the hall.

you can feel the change in seonghwa’s body immediately, his arm tightening around you and body stiffening just as your mom barrels in and meets your gaze with wild eyes.

she looks like she’s about ready to attack you, your aunt’s harsh hold on her arm one of the only things keeping her away.

“y/n, what the fuck have you done?” she snaps, looking at you in a way that makes tears prick your eyes. 

“i’m sorry,” you manage to get out brokenly, pushing back into seonghwa when the woman lets out a string of curses.

you can’t really focus on the fight the two women start to have, your mom attempting to lie and justify her actions while your aunt yells at her with tears in her eyes.

telling her she can’t believe this has been going on for so long and how she failed as a mother. that they weren’t raised like that so why on earth had she been subjecting you to this?

and then once you hear the front door open again, it’s like the unspoken answer has been uttered and you’re about to pass out; you probably would’ve by now if you weren’t being held by seonghwa. your mom’s eyes widen even more and when she looks over at you, something in her gaze makes your chest hurt.

you don’t know what it is, a flash of emotions you’ve never seen on her face before but pulls at something so deep and unfamiliar in you.

no one says anything as you wait for the doorway to be filled with your dad’s looming presence, heavy footsteps and his booming voice calling out for your mother.

but then once he sees the deadly silent room, tears on your face, your aunt grasping your mom’s arm harshly and a random boy looking about ready to kill him, his eyebrows pull together in confusion.

“what the hell is going on here?”

“what the hell is- guys look! that’s seonghwa’s car!” jongho yelps, cutting off hongjoong who was deep in his story about a brawl in the cafeteria today.

“i was just getting to the good part you disrespectful little shit!” the redhead chastises, attempting to flick the boy in the arm. “but yeah, so he just fucking goes up to him and i shit you not-“

but jongho only whacks him back and runs up to the car that caught his eye from down the block, peeking inside with his face pushed up against the glass.

yunho and hongjoong let out groans as they look at one another, figuring it’s just another black car in a town full of them. but there jongho is anyway, being a total creep snooping in what is most definitely a random stranger’s car.

“jongho! get away from there!” yunho whisper-yells as he runs across the street, attempting to drag the boy away from the vehicle; but even though he’s smaller, he’s stronger and firmly plants himself on the ground beneath him.

“guys, i’m serious! it is!”

“it’s not!” hongjoong yelps, smacking the boy in the back of the head. “why would seonghwa be here? it’s almost december.”

“i don’t know but it’s definitely his car!”

“jongho, there’s like a thousand other black jeeps in this town. why would seonghwa be here while he’s-”

the car’s alarm going off makes the three boys jump in surprise, the youngest letting out a yelp before running back across the street innocently.

yunho and hongjoong’s eyes widen as they look around, shaking their heads at their friend like he wasn’t the one who ran over and started invading the car’s privacy first.

“you’re such a coward!” hongjoong yells from across the street.

“you guys are fake! i know that’s seonghwa’s car!”

“it’s not fucking seonghwa’s car, he’s an hour away at his house, jongho! if you’re that dumb and miss him so much, why don’t you call him and ask?”

“you know what, i will!”

and so when he takes out his phone, the unnoticed boy in question, currently leant against the railing with a smirk on his face and car key in hand, makes sure his own phone’s volume is all the way up; but of course, when those three idiots hear a ringtone blaring through the air, they don’t think anything of it.

they just continue to argue, yunho suggesting they put money down as he watches the two boys fight in amusement.

“hi jongho,” seonghwa says into the phone, his voice full of mirth as a smile pulls at his lips.

“hwa! are you home?”

“why do you ask?” the boy questions lowly, taking a pebble from the driveway of your aunt’s house and squinting his eyes to aim.

“because i see your car by yunho’s and they are swearing it’s not yours! but i know it is, seonghwa, i know it’s yours and they are being so- ow!”

“what happened?” seonghwa asks, a wide smile across his face as he watches jongho rub at his head.

he turns around to see where the rock had come from, looking seonghwa dead in the face before turning back to hongjoong and yunho.

“did you guys throw that!” jongho whines, “someone just hit me with a-” but then as if his brain finally registered that he just saw seonghwa standing on your aunt’s porch, a gasp leaves his mouth as he whips around to look at him.

“seonghwa!”

jongho runs to the boy in record time, tackling him in a hug like he hasn’t seen him in three years opposed to just three months. seonghwa rolls his eyes and lets out a huff but puts his arm around the boy anyway, patting his back as hongjoong and yunho rush over with shock all over their faces.

“we thought for sure he was full of shit,” hongjoong says, the two boys bumping fists due to the youngest still clinging onto him. “what are you doing back here?”

and then almost immediately hongjoong and yunho see a change in their friend’s eyes, a mix of sadness and anger that causes the tallest boy to pull jongho back.

“what happened?” he asks, eyebrow raised and voice full of concern; because if there’s one thing he’s not used to, it’s reading seonghwa so clearly. yunho had come to pick up on subtle ways the dirty blonde would express himself, a quirk of an eyebrow and pop of the neck that would indicate how he was feeling.

but this? eyes so full of emotion and a face that’s easy to read? it’s unfamiliar, especially since he seems to be in distress. and yunho doesn’t think he’s ever his friend look so obviously...pained before.

“y/n’s living with her aunt now.”

hongjoong and yunho cock their heads while jongho’s eyebrows shoot up, asking excitedly if she’s gonna start going to their school too. but seonghwa shakes his head and explains the plan thus far: him or your aunt bringing you in the morning before work while he drives you home after your shift at the cafe.

“shit that’s crazy,” hongjoong comments, yunho nodding in agreement while looking over seonghwa carefully.

“why though?” the youngest boy asks curiously, knowing that it’s gonna be an hour commute both ways. “that’s kind of far to do every day.”

seonghwa licks over his lips, eyes diverting nervously to the calm ocean that he’s been watching from your room these days. the air was biting and cold but still so worth it, cuddled up under a blanket while you both watch the waves crash down on one another.

but before he can shake his head, he sees yunho’s scrutinizing gaze move behind his shoulder and brighten.

“y/n!”

you smile softly at the boys excited yelps and smiles, giving them a tiny wave as you make your way down and stand next to seonghwa.

“hi guys.” 

“so. is no one gonna say a fuckin’ word?”

the room is silent and tense as everyone stares at the man in the doorway, his eyes hard and cold as he’s seemingly unfazed by the tension in the room. you can’t help but cower into seonghwa when he meets your gaze, his eyes narrowing in confusion before a flicker of recognition crosses his face.

“you’re home early,” is all your mom says, voice calm and straight forward which is a complete contrast to her body language. usually she matches his vibe, stiff and towering and threatening when he is or calm and relaxed on that oh so rare occasion.

but now she seems scared, maybe just as scared as you. maybe you were too caught up in your own trauma to see, this whole time, she’s always been just as scared as you.

“yeah and there’s about two too many people in here, so, again, what the hell is going on?”

and when his eyes flicker to you, he takes a step closer that immediately causes seonghwa to tighten his hold on your waist and your aunt to speak; or at least attempt to.

because right as she opens her mouth, it’s almost like your dad can finally sense something in the air. whether it be the look in your eyes or seonghwa’s tight hold or the two sister’s desperation to diffuse the situation, his deep booming voice starts up again.

“something tells me this is your doing, y/n,” he says, tone all too conniving and dark making you swallow nervously. you don’t like the way he looks right now, such a familiar, threatening demeanor that you’ve been fearful of your whole life. the way he’s coming closer and closer before seonghwa tugs you behind his body.

but you won’t be responsible for him getting hurt.

you can’t be.

if him or your aunt get hurt in the slightest, you’re gonna regret all of it. regret telling anyone about this mess and dragging people into what what was only supposed to be your mess.

so you push yourself in front of seonghwa gently, ignoring the sharp inhale and low growl that leaves him as your dad stands just a few feet away from you both.

“so let’s hear it. what story did you make up, hm? that you dragged your aunt an hour away and have some...punk in my house.”

your eyebrows pull together at the bite in his voice while seonghwa lets out a scoff, jaw and fists clenched because he’s about two seconds away from punching this asshole right in the face.

“i didn’t make up anything,” you say meekly, allowing your gaze to meet his in a move you quickly regret. because everything about him makes you shrivel in on yourself, tears pricking your eyes because now it’s gonna be your word against theirs and then what? 

then you’ll be left alone with them again and be in even more pain.

you probably won’t make it out without a broken bone or bruised face and that’s not something you can handle right now. you can’t even think about dealing with anymore of this after having-

“no? then what the fuck is this about, y/n?” he asks, voice raising as he takes another step closer to you.

but that’s all seonghwa needs to take you by the elbow and pull you behind him without a second thought, his head cocking to the side as he looks at the man in front of him.

“i think you should lower your voice.”

seonghwa phrases his words like a simple statement or suggestion but everything about his voice is strong and commanding, your eyes widening as you watch your dad’s face twist into one of utter bafflement; you know it’s not a good sign and your mom and aunt’s wide eyes are a clear sign of that.

but you haven’t seen seonghwa more relaxed and confident since this whole shit storm started at three o’clock, looking at the man without an ounce of fear in his body language.

“yeah? and who the fuck are you to tell me that?” 

“who the fuck are you to talk to her like that?” 

you quietly call seonghwa’s name, reaching your hand out to grab him by the back of the shirt and pull him next to you. but the boy doesn’t even budge, the lowly growled male voices going back and forth.

that he’s your father so he can talk to you however he sees fit.

that you didn’t do anything wrong so he definitely shouldn’t be raising his voice at you.

“seonghwa, please,” you whine quietly, tightening your hold as you try to pull him back.

you can tell your dad is getting more and more angry, the tension growing thick in the room as you see his jaw twitching and eyes blazing. and it only makes you grow more anxious and upset, panic stirring in your chest as you whimper out seonghwa’s name again. 

and whether it’s the brokenness in your tone or the fact that he just knows this is getting too much for you, he cranes his neck back to look at you and feels his stomach drop.

because he’s not making this any better; if anything he’s only escalating the situation that he wanted to diffuse.

because no matter how badly he wants to beat the shit out of this man until he’s bloody and bruised, he doesn’t think that would make him any better than this shithead.

“not such a tough guy now, are you?” your dad continues when seonghwa takes his place next to you, the teenage boy’s eyes rolling at the immaturity rolling off this grown man. “this little bitch fooled you really good, huh? she was whoring around with a co-worker a few days ago, but i don’t think that was you, so i guess-”

and then all of seonghwa’s noble thoughts go right out the window when he hears those two specific words leave your dad’s mouth, mumbling an apology to you before advancing forward and landing a swift punch square in the man’s face.

one punch that leads to another and then before you can even tell what’s happening in the chaos of loud bangs and your mom’s yelps, you see your dad on the floor with his back pressed up against the wall and blood oozing from his nose.

he’s shouting but you can’t exactly make out the words with your pounding ears, feeling like you’re about to faint as you stumble back and land on your bed with a plop.

and that’s where you watch seonghwa’s boot press down on your dad’s hand harshly, all of his body weight on his right foot as he growls indistinguishable words in your dad’s ears.

(except no one could hear that they were actually threats. indistinguishable threats that if he ever tried to hurt you again, he wouldn’t be scared of coming back here and killing him. that his life up until this point hadn’t been anything special and throwing it away to make sure you were safe didn’t seem like the worst idea in the world. that he wouldn’t think twice about coming here and-)

“stop it!” 

your mom’s loud, shrill voice rings through the room before she pulls seonghwa off her husband’s hand, the boy freely going as he stands in front of you by the bed. your aunt is beside you, her arm around your shoulder and soothing you as quiet cries wrack your body.

“this is my fault, okay? i shouldn’t have called my sister.”

and once those words are said, you, your aunt and seonghwa all still. your cries stop and seonghwa holds his ragged breaths as he turns to look back at you, confusion matching yours because what?

“this was your fucking fault?” your dad screams, red, swollen hand raising like he’d hit her if he wasn’t on the ground in pain.

“i only wanted her to take her away,” your mom says, voice eerily calm and even in a way you’ve never heard before. “i...i thought it’d be better for us if she was out of our lives finally. for good, so we could have some peace without her. so i asked if she could live with her.”

you can only stare at your mom’s back as she lies to your father’s face, tears pricking your eyes as you feel the strangest sense of...something come over you.

you don’t wanna say it’s warmth from a mother’s love because you don’t believe if she did, she would’ve allowed this to happen.

you don’t think she would’ve watched and took part in abusing you, you don’t think she would’ve said the things she’s said to you and showed you time and time again that she didn’t care about you.

but this. this seemed like...a sacrifice of some kind.

knowing that if he knew you told people about everything, he’d deny it. he’d deny, deny, deny and assure that nothing of the sort was going on. that there was no reason for you to be taken away and that everyone could mind their fucking business about his family matters.

and with the way he looks at your mother and then you and your aunt, a snarl on his bloody, pained face that’s becoming more and more dangerous, you can’t help but feel like she’s gonna pay for this tonight.

you never saw him hit her which always surprised you but you always figured, given your own treatment, that it had to have happened.

“you better fucking hope she can.”

“of course she can stay with me,” your aunt says immediately, not missing a beat as she gets up from beside you and pushes seonghwa backward. he immediately sits down next to you and grabs your hand, waiting until you don’t pull away to intertwine your fingers and move his body closer to you. 

“we were just packing her stuff up and-”

“i don’t fucking care,” the man growls, stumbling up and staring down seonghwa who’s been watching him the entire time. “everyone just better be the hell out of here or i’m calling the police.”

his neck cranes to look at seonghwa, anger and rage flaring in his eyes when he sees the boy’s already eyeing him warily. “on you, in particular, you degenerate pretty boy punk. you really better watch yourself.” 

“how’s that hand feelin’?” seonghwa growls sarcastically, the man’s lip curling as he lurches forward as if to grab the boy. but your mom and aunt are quick to pull him back, the former begging him to leave so you can finally be out of their lives.

“this is what we’ve wanted forever,” she says to him, begging and pleading and desperation in her tone. “just let her pack so she can finally get out of here.”

and apparently his dislike for you was still stronger because with one final look of disgust thrown at all of you, a few mumbled curses and vulgar phrases dropped, the man stomps out of your room before your parent’s bedroom door slams down the hall.

you could hear a pin drop in the room after those first few seconds, your mom’s tense body relaxing every so slightly before she turns to look at you; it’s probably the longest, most non-threatening eye contact you’ve ever held with the woman in your life.

because while her eyes aren’t full of love or sorrow or anything of the sort, you think this is the closest she could come to an act of mercy. the closest she could come to showing you that, in some fucked up, twisted way, she just tried to hep you.

she might not know why, perhaps it really is just guilt after the sixteen years of verbal and physical lashings, or the fact that she saw a way to rid you from her life and she ran with it, but she knew she had to.

knew she couldn’t let that man know the truth of what you did or else you three would be living the same way you did every single night tonight, but worse.

“m-mom, why did you-”

“pack your shit and get out. all of you.”

those are the last words from your mom before she turns around and slams your door shut, the sound of her shoes clacking down the wood floor followed by another slam of a door echoing through the hallway.

“wow that really is fucking crazy,” hongjoong says, his feet dipped in the pool as all five of you sit around the heated water. “out of every town you could’ve moved to and it was this asshole’s.”

a chorus of deep chuckles rings through the air apart from seonghwa’s, the water sloshing beneath you as the dirty blonde splashes the boy in contempt.

you all had spent the past few hours catching up, you and seonghwa, but mostly seonghwa, informing them of how you guys reunited during homeroom.

you both stayed quiet about all the complications and drama, even though one blue-haired boy in particular had been able to see a slight difference in you guys without it.

because while there was still a fondness in both your eyes, seonghwa’s need to watch or be within six feet of you still very much prevalent, there was something different about your dynamic.

he didn’t wanna say it was strained but it just seemed...different. less intense with a hint of distrust that made yunho extremely suspicious.

but he thinks it could maybe just be not having that all consuming, first spark of puppy love that comes when you first meet someone. that maybe you two had to face stuff a little bit heavier than surfing and kissing in the sand all day; regardless, though, it was clear as day there was still love there, on both parts.

“so you met his other friends!” jongho yelps as he looks at you, a small smile on your face that you could never hide when speaking to the younger boy. 

“i did,” you confirm with a small nod, trying to keep the obvious tight, dislike out of your voice. 

“and..?” the blonde asks, quirking his eyebrows up as if to hint ‘don’t you know what i’m trying to say?’ but because you don’t, he lets out a huff and continues while smacking your arm lightly. “who do you like better!”

a small giggle leaves your mouth as you watch the three boys look at you expectantly, eyes wide and interested as if your answer is about to make or break them as human beings.

but the answer isn’t even something you have to ponder, not with the way yunho’s eyes lit up when he saw you again or how tight hongjoong wrapped you in a hug or the way jongho hasn’t stopped excitedly talking your ear off all night.

“definitely you guys,” you giggle out, a chorus of “yes” and “i knew it!” only making you giggle harder. you look next to seonghwa to see him looking down, teeth in his lip as he wears a serious expression on his face.

he knows his other friends haven’t treated you right but he also knows he was part of that problem. that if he had just stayed loyal to you and was honest from the start, told them right away to treat you with respect or they were gonna have problems, that things would’ve been a lot different.

and it’s something you know too. something you feel in the pit of your sinking stomach that makes your eyes nervously look away when his sad gaze meets yours.

“okay but which group is more handsome?” jongho asks again, your eyebrow raising and a disgusted scoff leaving seonghwa’s mouth. but the blonde only narrows his eyes at him and shrugs, your eyebrow quirked up as he looks at you awaitingly.

“i’ll have to get back to you on that,” you tease quietly, jongho’s mouth dropping open as seonghwa’s head snaps to you; and even with everything that’s happened, you have to hide your smirk when you see the, dare you say, jealous look in the dirty blonde’s eyes.

you can only roll them away and it causes his lips to quirk up in a small smile, his eyes admiring the side of your face and missing the way yunho watched the whole exchange curiously.

and he thinks while there’s probably a lot to work through, issues with trust and guilt and communication, there’s also a lot already naturally there, love and chemistry and a mutual attraction, that will make whatever was broken down in the past three months just a little easier to repair.

the first step in repairing you guys will certainly be with trust. trusting one another’s promises and words and intentions. trusting that, no matter what, neither of you are ever gonna knowingly hurt each other again.

because while you trust seonghwa enough to accept his quiet invitation to walk on the beach after the boys leave later that night, your arms bumping as you walk through the cold sand in silence, you don’t know when that trust gets blurred.

you trusted him to handle you with your parents, knowing that a little over a week ago, your mom and dad weren’t gonna hurt you because he was there; you know that he would never allow anyone to hurt you.

but you’re not ignorant of the fact that he did. that he made you cry and made you doubt him and yourself and broke promises over and over again that might’ve saved you just a little bit of pain right now.

so, really, you’re not 100% sure about anything.

you just know that you wanna see where things go with him now. that you and him are connected in some way and that, with a little bit of work, you think you’ll be able to get back to the place you were in, in this very spot when the sun was shining and wind wasn’t so biting.

“remember when i almost knocked you over?” 

his words rip you from the thoughts pounding through your head and you crane your neck up to look at him, the bright glow of the moon behind him making your heart hurt; it’s sick how handsome he looks but it’s also sick how nostalgic this all is. 

a strong arm wraps around your waist and catches you gently. you collide into the body with a tiny “oomph,” your front pressed up flush against someone’s naked chest. it takes you a second to open your eyes and meet the person’s gaze, the blaring sun casting a light around-

him. the boy with dirty blonde hair you saw at your neighbors house.

and if you thought he looked handsome then, from a good distance away and dry, you’re quickly coming to find out he is ten times more handsome like this. with his tanned, wet skin and hair slicked back, a few sparse salt water droplets resting on his long eyelashes and forehead.

you’re looking at him for so long, captured by his appearance and the feel of his chest and the way his arm is still tightly wound around your body, that you don’t say anything. not a thank you or an apology or any sort of acknowledgment that you know how to communicate.

but he’s seemingly unfazed, deeply muttering “you good?” under his breath. and it’s when you hear that that you’re finally able shake your head and jump away from him, like you’d landed on fire and are starting to burn.

“i-i’m so sorry,” you stutter out, looking anywhere but him as you stumble over your words. “i wasn’t paying attention.”

“it’s fine,” he smirks, unaware of the fact his eyes are roaming your body as you stare at your footprints in the sand. “just watch where you’re going next time.”

“yeah,” you chuckle out humorlessly, the memory replaying in your mind like it was just yesterday. “you told me to ‘watch where i was going’,” you repeat, putting small finger quotes around the words he said causing him to chuckle shortly.

the crashing of the waves fill your ears as you both play the memory over before more flood through your mind:

the time at the diner when yunho formally introduced himself and you felt his eyes on you.

when he climbed the top of the cliff just a few yards away and you had your first conversation.

when he blurted out about teaching you how to surf, lessons he still doesn’t know why he offered to this very day.

maybe it was because he noticed something in you, something that pulled him in and made him fall deeper and deeper until he forgot what it was like to not be so consumed by a person.

“you could barely look me in the face and you always watched your footsteps in the sand.”

your hands graze and you don’t even realize he’s stopped walking until you look down at them and see his feet aren’t moving. you meet his gaze and the look in his eyes makes you wanna frown, seeing that you’re not the only one feeling nostalgic and weepy tonight on this bitterly sweet beach.

and then the more he thinks about the memories, the more he starts remember; warning signs and odd little things he thought were concerning even within the first week he met you.

“and you flinched away from me when we were surfing one day,” he says, his words quiet with a hint of sadness and regret. “i remember thinking it was weird at the time. how you always seemed so fucking scared of everyone. even jumping at your own shadow.” 

you lick over your cold lips as your eyes fall to the ground, digging your toes in the sand and watching the imprints pop back up. you can see your fingertips threatening to graze and you’re trying to decide if that would be a good idea, to take your hand in his during this moment and throw all caution to the wind.

because you think it’d be easy to.

to bask in his comfort and eventually feel your lips against his again. kiss him until you’re under him and begging him to make you feel something euphoric again.

but you also think that would be the worst thing for you both right now. to try and pick things up where they left out when you’re both still hurting and cautious and guilty.

“why are you saying this?” you ask softly, feeling brave as your eyes lift to his and you see that they’re teary; you’d laugh at the contrast, you being almost jaded while he’s on the verge of crying, if you yourself didn’t feel tears pricking your eyes. 

“because you started to trust me anyway. you trusted me and i fucked it up,” he says, his hand carefully raising to your head to capture a piece of your hair. “you’re just so...good and sweet. and you trusted me right away even though you knew i was shit.”

you swallow down the lump in your throat as you start to shake your head, even through everything not liking to hear him talk about himself like that. because he’s good, too, you know he is.

you saw it and felt it and experienced how good he is. but you also know he’s troubled, just like anyone. but he continues to talk before you can tell him that.

“and then it took me three fucking seconds to mess it up,” he says, the anger and frustration seeping into his tone almost matching the roaring waves behind you. “and if you don’t trust me ever again, i can’t even be mad. because it’s completely my fault and i know that. and if you don’t want anything to do with me...i’ll accept that, too. because i get it.”

the tears pricking your eyes come to the surface and the biting wind burns at them, swallowing the lump growing in your throat as you watch him talk it out.

you think it’s the most vulnerable and transparent you’ve seen him since you reunited, licking over your lips again when he meets your gaze and frowns at your teary eyes.

and you don’t know if it’s because of that very fact or the prospect of not having anything to do with him that makes you so sad but you just know you’re immediately shaking your head no.

“i don’t want that.”

his eyes fill with so much hope at your words that it makes your fragile heart heal just a little bit, his hand tightening in your hair before he tucks a few strands behind your ear. you feel his thumb graze the side of your head and down your jaw, swallowing thickly as his skin on yours causes you to feel a familiar sense of warmth.

“i don’t know what i want,” you admit quietly, confused because there’s the matter of trust at hand making this process incredibly daunting. but you also can’t escape the one fact you knew was true this whole time, no matter how much you didn’t want it to be because you were so sad and hurt.

“but i know that i’m still yours.”

he doesn’t think he’s ever felt the feeling that rips through his chest when you say that, an overwhelming, all consuming feeling that would’ve knocked him on his ass if he didn’t have some sort of hold on you. 

he has to stop himself from completely breaking down in front of you, shaking his head and holding back a cry as he pulls you into his chest.

“you really shouldn’t be fucking saying that to me,” he mumbles against your head, his voice tight and throat constricting as he tries to keep his shit together. “i don’t deserve to hear that.”

you pull away and meet his gaze, his eyes wide and teary and full of such love you can see clear as day. you reach up with a small, sad smile and brush your hand through his hair, longer pieces of dirty blonde on the top such a contrast to the short, shaven ones he had during the summer.

“maybe not,” you say quietly, head cocking to the side as your wide eyes meet his. “but it’s how i feel.”

because that’s all it really comes down to. how both of you feel about each other, taking into account each and every moment that happened since you met - the good and the bad.

seonghwa bites his lip as he looks down at you, thinking he should probably insist a little bit more that he doesn’t deserve this. that the way he treated you was completely unfair and horrible and you should never look at him again.

that you can do better than him and are completely settling for less; but something about the way you’re looking at him makes him stop.

because while he still may be being a little selfish, feeling grateful and thanking whoever is listening that you can still manage to love him, he can also see the way you’re looking at him with such surety.

that, for reasons he doesn’t quite understand, you still want him in your life. you still want to try and see if the summer was just a fluke or if there really was something there that made you both feel the happiest you’d ever been in your young lives.

so it’s why, after a few silent minutes with just the ocean and wind, he finally nods his head. tells you softly that, while he doesn’t feel deserving of the chance, he’s gonna do everything he can to prove himself to you.

do everything he can to earn your trust back, day by day, week by week, until you feel confident enough that you made the right choice in forgiving him.

when you told san about the situation with your parents at school a few days later, you both cried outside.

you had never seen the boy’s eyes well up with tears so fast nor had you ever felt him hold you so tight. he apologized for not noticing the signs but you cut him off before he could even get the rest out, threatening to throw out every last cookie at work later if he dares try to put any blame on himself.

“work?” he managed to ask as he wiped at his wet cheeks, the pout on his lips making a sad smile light up your face. “you’re still gonna work at the cafe here? it’s gonna take you an hour to get home, y/n. that might be too much.”

“it’ll be fine,” you tell him with a small smile, squeezing his hand that managed to find yours through the long-winded confession. “i like working there with you, so stop trying to get rid of me.”

his dimply smile makes your heart lift and you giggle when he pecks your cheek, pulling you up from the bench so you can both make your way inside to eat.

“wait, so it’s okay with your aunt, too?” he asks once more, the hour commute greatly unsettling him and making him panic over your wellbeing. “she doesn’t mind driving here and back?” 

and when your face twists into a strange expression, san immediately knows you have more to tell him; but before you can break any more news to him, he sees no other than park seonghwa plop down in the seat right across from him with a sheepish expression.

“i know i’ve been a dick and tried to fight you multiple times,” he immediately starts with, his old friend’s words making his eyebrows pull together. “but... is it okay if i sit with you guys now?”

and you don’t know if you giggle more at the complete and utter shock on san’s face or seonghwa’s attempt at reconciling but you do know you’re not surprised when, after only a few minutes of testing the boy, the blonde takes pity on his old friend and nods his head.

“you have more to tell me,” he says as he leans in, looking from you to seonghwa who’s looking over at his friend’s lunch table. you both miss the challenging look he’s throwing one boy in particular, eyebrow cocked and lips quirked into a smirk before he bites back a laugh. 

but then just a few moments later, another body plops down and your head snaps over to see no other than jung wooyoung right next to san, the brown-headed boy nodding his head at you before casually throwing an arm around the blonde.

you don’t know if you or san’s eyes are more wide as you take in the sight, a small smile on your lips as you see an unfamiliar blush on san’s cheeks.

“woo, what are you doing?” he whispers, elbowing the boy in the side because while he doesn’t mind this, at all, they hadn’t discussed sitting with each other at lunch yet. 

but wooyoung only tightens his arm around the boy, pulling the blonde into him until he can smell the scent of his shampoo.

“shut up,” he says simply, his fingers threading through the back of his hair affectionately causing you to look at san with a wide, teasing smile. he narrows his eyes at you and you bite back at a giggle as you now lean in closer to him.

“you have some stuff to tell me too, it seems.”

and you can’t even bask in the amusement of seeing san so blushy and flustered because two more bodies then plop down at your table before a tray of chicken is promptly pushed in front of san.

“we know this isn’t gonna make up for it and you can throw this in our faces if you hate us,” yeosang says, eyes wide and full of sadness and regret. “but we’ve really missed you, san. and we’re sorry for being complete and utter assholes.”

and you can tell the blonde doesn’t know what to make of all his friends being back around him, his wide glossy eyes full of surprise as wooyoung’s hand continues to thread through his hair.

but you can also tell, since the moment you met him really, that san isn’t one to hold a grudge, especially when he sees people are trying to be better.

so you’re not even the slightest bit surprised again when he thanks the boys softly and tells them he missed them too, pushing the tray of food in the middle as he softly insists they all share.

you look at seonghwa and can’t stop the smile that lights up your face, giggling softly when he holds up a piece of chicken to your mouth.

“they’re cute, maybe we should get girlfriends,” yeosang whispers to mingi as they watch seonghwa feed you, their friend’s eyes watching you with the softest expression they’ve ever seen. 

but mingi only turns to the boy with a baffled expression, eyebrow raised with his head cocked to the side like a confused puppy.

“wait...girlfriends?” 

(part 22)

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