#gotti wheels
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Star-Studded Night of Rap Royalty: Highlights from the 2023 BET Awards
The 2023 BET Awards witnessed a gathering of rap royalty, creating an electrifying event filled with music, surprises, and heartfelt tributes. Held at the Microsoft Theater in L.A., the star-studded affair captivated attendees from the moment they stepped onto the red carpet.
Ice Spice, T.I., Quavo, Offset, Busta Rhymes, Yo Gotti, Master P, Latto, Chrisean Rock, Angela Simmons, Moneybagg Yo, YTB Fatt, Sexyy Red, and Brooklyn Nikole were among the major attendees, exuding style and glamour as they posed for photographs.
Behind the scenes, hip hop legends reveled in the camaraderie and joy, indulging in the celebratory atmosphere that lasted long into the night. Laughter and merriment echoed through the city as the music greats embraced the spirit of the occasion.
During the awards ceremony, poignant moments unfolded. The surviving members of Migos, Quavo and Offset, paid heartfelt tribute to their fallen bandmate, Takeoff, leaving a lasting impression on the audience. Busta Rhymes moved the crowd to tears as he accepted a lifetime achievement award, acknowledging his remarkable contributions to the industry.
Not without its surprises, the ceremony saw Patti LaBelle stumble momentarily during her tribute to the legendary Tina Turner, momentarily forgetting the lyrics to "Simply The Best." However, Patti swiftly recovered, delivering an unforgettable performance that ended on a triumphant note.
In the end, the 2023 BET Awards proved to be a phenomenal night filled with remarkable music, extraordinary talent, and memorable moments. The celebration of rap culture and the industry's finest left everyone enthralled and reminded us of the enduring power of music.
Have you been spending all your money and time on making music and shooting videos, but still not getting any exposure? Tired of just spinning your wheels? You know to get exposure you need to get featured on blogs, radio stations, playlist, and get your music e-mail blasted out to the masses. Need help getting all that done? Then check out the Package we’ve made available for you below!
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The Latest Music, Videos, News, Entertainment……
#trapLA#Rap royalty#BET Awards#hip hop#major attendees#surprises#lifetime achievement award#Patti LaBelle#music celebration
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Mk2
#gotti wheels#gotti#gottis#mk2#vw#volkswagen#mk2 golf#golf mk2#volkswagen golf mk2#volkswagen golf#westmoreland#westie
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Gems
#gotti#gotti wheels#rare wheels#wheelporn#savethewheels#2 piece wheels#save the wheels#bbs#bbs wheels#rims#rimsforsale#garage find#barn find#bmw#e28#e30#m3#m5
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BBS
#stance#airlift#stanceworks#airbags#stancenation#wheels#mercedes#wheelsporn#cambergang#mercedes benz#bbs#gottis
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Datsun 280ZX 2+2 GL Prototype, 1979. For sale on ebay, a unique Z-car that was built for the Nissan Motor Corporation USA as a factory sales prototype and given to the owner of the company who were making promotional material for Nissan. It is finished in Black Pearl Metallic with gold stripping which never made it into series production. There are also custom Gotti wheels and a Stebro exhaust system. The car is immaculate have travelled only 7,484 miles (12,044 km). Current bidding is at $85,000 with one day to go
ebay listing
#Datsun#Datsun 280ZX#Datsun 280ZX 2+2 GL#prototype#one off#cars for sale#ebay#auction#1979#Nissan#Z-car#Datsun Z#black cars#straight 6#factory prototype
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with great power I [lee jeno]
summary: there are two things jeno loves most about his life. one being spiderman, the other being you, his best friend. there’s just one issue: after your father’s death, you decide you hate both spiderman and yourself.
pairing: lee jeno x reader
genre: superhero au, high school au, coming of age, best friends to strangers(ish) to lovers, fluff, ANGST, minor crack
warnings (for this chapter): language, violence, gun violence, the mafia, parental death, police presence, sexual references, bullying (ily san im sorry), the dreamies being dicks to each other, police corruption, towards the end jeno experiences something similar to sensory overload, americanized names, pop culture references, VERY jeno centric
song rec: we go up - nct dream // any song - zico // 21 questions - waterparks // talk (remix feat. megan thee stallion & yo gotti) - khalid // sunrise - ateez // i really like you - carly rae jepsen // dare - gorillaz // stray kids - the tortoise and the hare
word count: 10.5k
a/n: this is so late...... i blame attack on titan. but hey!! better late than never :] a huge thanks to @doderyscoffee for beta reading <3
main masterlist // story masterlist
chapter one: jeno and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week
Jeno despised Tuesdays. He was pretty sure that Tuesdays despised Jeno as well because all of his worst days just so happen to be Tuesdays. He was 96% sure that, if there was a god, his day off was on Tuesdays, or that the planets aligned in such a manner on Tuesdays that it caused universal despair and misery. If he was to take Donghyuck's word for it, his chakra attracted negative energy the most on Tuesdays.
When Jeno was 5, his goldfish Pippin had died on a Tuesday. When he had his ass handed to him on the playground by San Choi in the third grade, it was a Tuesday. And in the seventh grade, he'd failed his Spanish test, missed his bus and walked home in the rain only to find out that his Aunt Sunny was at work, he'd left his keys in his locker and that had to wait an hour before she got home to unlock it for him, all on a Tuesday.
And wouldn't you know it, here he was, late for the first day of senior year, which was, of all days, a godforsaken Tuesday.
In his eternal wisdom, he'd stayed up gaming with Renjun until two in the morning, and because of it, slept through his three alarms, one set at six-thirty, the other at 6:45, the last one at 7:00.
He'd woken up at 7:17, to the sound of his elderly neighbor's pet chihuahua barking at a pigeon, checked the time, immediately panicked, sped into the shower, gotten dressed in a haste, grabbed a few granola bars from the pantry, and ran out the door while trying to jam his backpack closed, and managed to catch the train at 7:40, which took about twenty minutes to get to his stop, plus a ten-minute walk to school, and class started at 8:10. Not to mention he’d have to stop by the office and pick up his schedule. At best, he’d be five minutes late to his first class. But tardies were tardies, regardless, and the last thing he needed was to lose his perfect attendance streak.
He fished out his phone while standing on the train, waiting for his stop, scrolling through Instagram, and liking random pictures. A ping! from his phone caught his attention, then two, then a third. He smiled softly when your name popped up on his screen.
[7:48 AM]
y/n: pssst
y/n: shithead
y/n: where r u ????
[7:49 AM]
y/n: i can sEE u online on ig u know
jeno: …… i'm on the train
jeno: woke up late
y/n: YOURE GONNA BE LATR
y/n: LATE*
y/n: ON THE FIRST DAY OF SENIOR YEAR
[7:50]
jeno: probably, yeah
jeno: it's the school district's fault, why would they make the first day of school on a fkn TUESDAY
y/n: ohhh yeahh its terrible tuesday
y/n: [sent an attachment!]
[7:51 AM]
jeno: SHUT UP
jeno: you're not funny >:(
jeno: how dare you laugh at my misfortune
y/n: au contraire im hilarious
jeno: meanie :(
jeno: im gonna be late i hate it here
jeno: it'll end up on my permanent record and i'm not gonna get into college and then i'm gonna die,,,
[7:52 AM]
y/n: sometimes ur worse than hyuck i swear
y/n: FIRST OF ALL permanent records dont even exist !!!!!! its propaganda duh
y/n: also ur literally never late
y/n: im sure o n e tardy wont do anything chill
y/n: dont be stupid youll be fine
Don’t be stupid. Too little, too late, he thought, already having got off the train at a previous stop. Now, he was looking for an unoccupied street or alleyway, which, for once, was easy, taking a deep breath before he did the exact opposite of what you’d told him not to do. Don’t be stupid.
The buildings are low, he thought to himself, it’ll be easier to see me.
Don’t be stupid.
Too late!
Thwip!
Jeno didn’t hesitate to use the web fluid to pull himself up onto the wall, climbing in a haste, before running and jumping onto the next building. He quickly built up a quick pace, using the web fluid occasionally to swing onto a building slightly out of jumping range.
Signs in English, Chinese, Korean, and Spanish flew past him as he seemingly flew over the Queens traffic, leaving Flushing behind and crossing quickly into College Point quicker than he would if he took the train. He glanced to his left and caught a view of the bay, and far across it, the LaGuardia airport watchtower.
Jeno had lived in New York City his entire life. He knew Queens like the back of his hand, knew every dingy alleyway, every sketchy street, which restaurants to avoid if you didn’t want to get food poisoning, which convenience store aunties were the nicest and didn’t pinch his cheeks too hard. It was his home, and most likely would be for the rest of his life.
But seeing it like this, flying past him below as he glided with ease from building to building would never cease to be a sight to him. It was like watching from the perspective of an outsider, seeing people in their cars, walking along the street gave him a brand new perspective. A Jeno’s eye view, he called it, since he was pretty sure he was the only one in New York City.
Another noise from his phone brought him back to reality. He shook his head, stopping briefly to catch his breath and fish out his phone briefly.
[7:57 AM]
y/n: let me know when u get here !!!
No time to respond, he put away the phone and continued his trek to school. He had less than ten minutes to get there. But he knew he was already at least five minutes away, much quicker than he would be if he had decided to stick to the train. He smiled a bit to himself, feeling ever so slightly smug.
The hustle and bustle of the city definitely proved challenging to find a place to land without many eyes, but he figured it out eventually, landing behind a dumpster in an alleyway behind a restaurant that he knew was about three or four blocks from the school. He figured it would be a lot better to take it on foot from here. The notebooks he was carrying in his backpack bounced up and down with every step he took.
After what seemed like forever, the gates to the school appeared in his view, and Jeno felt a joy in his heaving chest, something he would have never thought would happen upon seeing the absolute hellhole that was Samuel Morse High School.
[8:06 AM]
jeno: just did >:D
Picking up his schedule was both quick and insanely long. He couldn’t stop himself from tapping his left foot while the secretary found his schedule and handed it to him. “Kibum, please hurry,” He muttered, and Kibum raised an eyebrow at him, but his gaze was teasing. “That’s Mr. Kim to you, in school at least.”
He handed Jeno his schedule a few seconds later. “Tell your Aunt to come pick up her casserole dish, by the way. She left it at my house after my last viewing party.”
“The Bachelor?”
“Please. We’re too classy for that. Drag Race.”
“Ah. I see.”
“Jeno,” Kibum said, staring up at him from his desk, his gaze now much more serious, “Get to class. Happy first day of senior year.”
“Thanks, Mr. Kim.”
He managed to make it to chemistry class at 8:09 with seconds to spare. His eyes quickly scanned the room upon entering, hoping his friends were in the class with him. He caught a few familiar faces, most of which, like San Choi's, he wished to avoid. No one paid him any mind. Everyone was still speaking to the people next to them, no doubt exchanging stories of summer vacation.
A hand shot up towards the back, waving at him. A smile stretched across his face as he registered your face, feet not hesitating to carry him towards the empty seat next to you. His heart skipped a beat at seeing your smile, and he tried his best to ignore it.
“Hey,” You greeted, “That was fast. I thought you said you were gonna be late.”
Jeno shrugged, eyes landing on the dark shade of the lab table. “The train was a lot faster than I expected, apparently.”
You wrinkled your nose. “Why do you smell so bad?”
“I, uh… ran a little.”
You grimaced, and Jeno tried to casually sniff at his slightly sweaty clothes. It’s not that bad. “I still don’t understand why you won’t let me drive you to school. You’re literally next door.”
“I don’t know,” He answered, rolling his eyes, “Maybe it’s because when it comes to that truck, you are absolutely insane. You won’t even let me drink water in that thing.”
The truck in question, a faded red 1998 Chevrolet S-10, had been your gift to yourself for your 17th birthday. You’d spent two summers saving up to buy yourself a truck, and that was what you were able to get for what you had. To say it was a huge piece of junk on wheels was an understatement.
The thing smelled like mothballs no matter how many air fresheners you bought it, the engine sounded like an old man having a coughing fit, and there was a very suspicious stain in the backseat that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times you scrubbed it. But for some reason, you treated it like it was your own baby. The amount of times you’d yelled at Jaemin for trying to put his feet on the dashboard was too high to count.
You mirrored his movement, eyes rolling as you sighed. “At least let me drive you home after school today. Maybe you can stay and we can finally watch Blade Runner.”
You’d been trying to get him to watch the film for almost a month now, begging and pleading because you insisted that he’d love it. He offered an awkward stare, before opening his backpack and pulling out a notebook. “Can’t,” He mumbled, “I’m headed into Manhattan. I have my internship afterwards.”
“Oh, yeah,” You said nonchalantly, eyebrows shooting up as you remembered, “Park Industries.”
He was about to reply when Mrs. Baker, the chemistry teacher, finally entered. She’d been working at SMHS for 30 years and had never, apparently, been nice, if his Aunt Sunny’s stories were anything to go by. However, she had apparently always spoken as if she smoked two packs a day. She was rambling about the importance of making the most of senior year academically, adult responsibilities, college, and whatnot. You and Jeno exchanged glances often throughout the monologue, hoping it would end soon.
“Enough of that,” She said after what seemed like an eternity, “Everyone quiet down, I’m going to call roll.”
Names were quickly called, and Jeno was ready to pull out a pencil and start working with you until Mrs Baker demanded a switch in seats, beginning to call on random names in an effort to deter everyone from speaking.
"Please not with Choi, please not with Choi," Jeno muttered under his breath, glancing warily at San, who was staring ahead, looking bored.
San had had it out for Jeno ever since day one, in first grade. For some reason, everything Jeno did seemed to annoy the other boy. He wasn't funny enough, or too nerdy, or too quiet. Jeno was always too much or too little for him.
You touched his forearm, and he looked towards you.
“You’ll be fine,” You said softly, trying not to alert the teacher, “You’re not gonna get paired up with him, and you can take it to the office if you need to.” “Yeah, because I’m sure Coach Peralta would be thrilled if someone tried to get his precious midfielder in trouble.”
“Choi, San,” Mrs Baker’s voice rang throughout the room, and Jeno braced himself for the worst, eyebrows furrowing with worry.
“You’ll be sitting with… L/N, Y/N.”
Jeno’s shoulders slumped, but your face remained impassive. You picked up your stuff, and pouted silently at Jeno in apology, before making your way to the front.
“Lee, Jeno,” Mrs Baker called a few minutes later, “You’ll be sitting with Jang, Yeeun.”
He breathed out a sigh of relief. Yeeun is nice, Jeno thought to himself, I could sit with Yeeun. She wasn’t part of his main friend group, but he had tutored her in math during sophomore year in exchange for her helping him with Spanish, and they’d been pretty friendly ever since.
“Hey,” Yeeun greeted as Jeno sat down, and Jeno smiled at her.
“Remember, these will be your assigned lab partners for the rest of the semester. No changes, no exceptions.” Mrs. Baker sat down at her desk, before beginning to talk about something Jeno didn’t really pay attention to.
You exchanged glances with Jeno, and he gave you a look of sympathy as you gestured at San with your eyes. San was talking to you about something—probably bragging about some soccer achievement—but you weren’t paying him much attention. Jeno swallowed something growing in his throat as he looked at how your hair looked today.
It was nothing relatively new, the same hairstyle you used on most days. But still, there was a bit of a shine to it. He wondered vaguely if you had changed your shampoo, the other day you’d been complaining about how itchy your normal shampoo made your scalp—
“You still haven’t told her about how you feel?” Yeeun asked quietly, and Jeno’s head snapped back to look at her, eyes wide.
“W-what? Me. Like Y/N…” He laughed nervously, trying to keep his voice down. He scratched the back of his head, avoiding Yeeun’s accusatory stare. “You’re hilarious, Yeeun. Tell another one.”
Yeeun shook her head. “You’d better hurry before someone else snatches her up, Jen. She’s not gonna wait around for you forever.”
“I don’t like her, Yeeun.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
“Hey! Jeno Lee!”
“Hey! Jaemin Na! What do you want!” Jeno answered as he sat down, mimicking Jaemin’s tone next to him.
“Well, for starters, a million dollars, and second, a date with Yiren Wang, but I doubt you can help me with either of those, so...”
Jeno glanced at the rest of the table. Along with Jaemin, Mark, Renjun, Donghyuck, and you were watching the interaction between the pair. “Where are the munchkins?” Jeno asked, noticing Chenle and Jisung’s absence. No one could really call them munchkins anymore. That nickname dated back to middle school, before the two underclassmen had gone through growth spurts.
“Eh, they should be here soon,” Renjun said, chewing on a french fry, “How’s your day been?”
“Pretty good so far, I guess. I got AP Calc with Mr. Washington later, though. That man wants me dead.”
You rolled your eyes. “He doesn’t want you dead. I’m telling you, you and Hyuck have been spending way too much time together. You’re being more dramatic than usual and Hyuck’s being more… weird than usual.”
“And just what is so weird about being enthusiastic about senior year, Y/N?” Donghyuck asked, shaking his head, “It’s our last year in this hellhole, I’m excited that we’re finally getting out of here. And besides—”
“Please don’t bring up the fact that you’re abandoning us next year.” Chenle seemingly appeared out of nowhere, sitting next to Renjun, Jisung following quickly behind him.
“Hi, Sungie,” You said with a smile, and Jisung smiled back. “Hi, Y/N.”
“What were you saying, Hyuck?” Jaemin looked at Donghyuck, who had taken the quick interaction as an opportunity to take a bite of his sandwich. His wide eyes darted to the slim boy, cheeks stuffed with chicken.
“Oh,” He replied after swallowing, “This is gonna be my year. I’m getting male lead for the winter musical and no one is gonna stop me.”
“Do you even know what musical you guys are doing yet?” Mark asked, “What if it’s like… Shrek?”
Jisung made a face. “There’s a Shrek musical?”
Mark nodded, and Renjun laughed.
“I don’t know about male lead, if it’s Shrek. You should try out for Donkey,” The Chinese boy joked, “With those front teeth, you’re a shoo-in.”
The entire table was silent for a moment, before snorts and chortles started pouring out from everyone except Donghyuck.
“Fuck you, Huang.”
Renjun flashed the friendliest smile he could muster. “Not if you paid me a million dollars.”
The subject remained on extracurriculars, everyone in your group except for Chenle and Jisung now wary of college applications. Donghyuck had been in theater ever since middle school, Renjun was in the robotics club and the debate team with Jaemin, who was also in the student council. Mark was on the math team with Jeno, and you had founded the film club.
"You're not gonna believe who asked to sign up for film," You huffed, looking kind of confused. The rest of the table looked at you expectantly, and you pursed your lips, almost as if you were trying not to laugh.
"San Choi."
Renjun scoffed. Jaemin raised his eyebrows before letting out a single, humorless laugh. Jeno made a face, poking his plastic fork at you.
"What is San Choi doing asking to sign up for film?"
"Fuck if I know. He said he needed one more extracurricular if he wanted to get into some college in Florida and he liked going to the movies, so he wanted to try out film."
Mark rolled his eyes. "I swear there's nothing in that guy's head but hot gas. It blows my mind."
"He's a dick," Chenle grumbled, "I'm still not over how he and Wooyoung taped Jisung to the flagpole last year."
Jisung scowled. "I thought we agreed to never bring that up again."
“Do you think they’ll finally calm the fuck down this year?” Jaemin wondered, looking wistful.
You took a sip of your coke and shook your head. “Doubt it. They’re not the hateful eight for a reason.”
The mood at the table turned tense, until Jaemin frowned at his french fries, before sighing and clapping his hands together dramatically. “I would like to hear,” He mused, “About the nuance that theatre gives the cinematic masterpiece that is Shrek when converted into musical form.”
Donghyuck beamed. “Oh, it’s amazing. You see…”
If it was difficult to get Donghyuck to stop talking in general, it was impossible when it was about theater.
The conversation continued on until the bell rang, and the eight of you had to go your separate ways. Jaemin and Jeno had the same class, so they both walked together down a relatively calm hallway. Jaemin looked both ways, before finally lowering his voice.
“So, you’re going to see Mr. Park today?”
Jeno nodded, looking down at his shoes. “He said he wanted to give me an assignment. Says there’s something big going on.”
Jaemin’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Did he say what kind of something?”
Jeno shook his head, pouting slightly. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”
Once school was out, Jeno was getting ready to get onto the subway once again, this time heading towards Midtown. It was only day one and, as Jeno had predicted, Mr. Washington probably was out to get him, because he’d swamped the class with homework.
As he left the school, he spotted you in the parking lot, leaning against your car door, texting someone. He glanced at his phone. He still had plenty of time, he figured. He walked over to you, and when you looked up, you smiled.
“Hey!” Your voice had that signature tone of enthusiasm to it, and Jeno smiled back immediately.
“Hello,” He sing-songed. “So, I was thinking… are you free on Friday night?”
You looked somewhere above his head, furrowing your eyebrows before you perked up again and nodded. “Yep! Why?”
“I’m free after nine. Maybe then I could come over to your house? So I can finally get you to stop harassing me about Blade Runner.”
You grinned, pumping your fists enthusiastically. “Hell yes,” You answered, “Do you want me to get like, some frozen pizzas or something?”
“Pizza sounds good,” He said. “Who are you even waiting for?”
You made a face that made it seem as if you’d just gotten a whiff of rotten milk. “Well—”
Your response was interrupted when the school doors slammed open, and eight figures poured out, carrying themselves with confidence Jeno both envied and despised. He frowned, trying not to react at their loud whooping and laughing. The Hateful Eight.
“Oh.” Jeno averted his gaze, meeting your eyes again.
“Yeah. If you don’t hear from me later it’s because I jumped out of my truck because I don’t wanna work with—”
“Well, hello, gorgeous!” San’s voice filled the parking lot, and Jeno took a deep breath. Your mouth stretched into a tight-lipped smile at the unwanted ‘compliment’.
“Hey, San.” Your friendly passive aggressive tone almost made Jeno smile. “I’ve been waiting here for like, fifteen minutes. You could have just given me your number and asked me to send you pictures of my notes, you know.”
He shrugged, turning his body so that his back was turned to Jeno. “Sorry, babe. Coach wanted to talk to us about the upcoming season. When he gets going, it’s hard to get him to stop. And besides, where’s the fun in just asking for pictures when I could come here, talk to you, and take the pictures myself?”
You didn’t respond, but rather pulled out your backpack and began digging through it. When you pulled out your notebook, you handed it to San, who flashed a wink at you. You barely held back a gag.
“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll just be a minute.”
He walked over to the hood of your truck, and just as you were about to continue your conversation, two figures slung their arms around both of Jeno’s shoulders, causing him to flinch.
Out of the fifteen soccer players on the team, San and his best friends—seven of them, to be precise—were the worst. The others were pretty nice. But right now, seeing two of those seven surround your best friend made you uneasy.
Wooyoung was loud. He was also a temperamental brat. His dad owned three used car dealerships over in Brooklyn, so naturally, he thought he owned the entire world. He wasn’t someone who would get too physical in fights, like San, or Jongho, or Yeosang. But when he was angry, he could easily get you to jump into the stratosphere by yelling at you once. Over the years, he’d made several teaching assistants and substitute teachers cry, only getting let off with a slap on the wrist every time.
Yunho was terrifying for completely different reasons. He was friendly, but a little too friendly to the people he wanted to control. He could read people like books and could easily manipulate whoever he wanted. But he wasn’t afraid of getting physical either, especially not when he was built like a goddamn Power Rangers Megazord.
All in all, they definitely weren't anyone you wanted near you, near your friends. Especially considering how much they had it out for your friends.
"Hey, buddy," Yunho said, looking down at Jeno with a wide smile. "How was summer vacation?"
Jeno gnawed on the side of his cheek as he considered his answer. "Um, it was okay." He looked at you to catch your eyes darting between San, Yunho and Wooyoung, like you were analyzing the situation. "I kinda stayed in and played video games most of the t—"
"Cool, cool," Yunho answered, carding his free hand through his bleach blond hair. "What about you, Woo?"
"Oh, dude, it was so cool," He bragged, "I went to Brazil for like, a month. I went clubbing with Instagram models and shit, it was wild."
You stared at him as he patted Jeno on the back rather aggressively. "Where did you go? Have you ever even left New York?"
You knew the answer. Only a few times when the debate team went to compete in different states. Jeno spoke up again. "Well, yeah a few t—"
"Doubt it," Yunho scoffed. He craned his head back. "San, you done yet?"
"Almost!" San answered. Yunho turned to face you, and for some reason his smile seemed genuinely kind. “What about you, Y/N?”
You never understood why it was that the soccer team hated your entire friend group, but seemed to tolerate you. It made no sense.
So you shrugged. “Not a lot, I guess. Did my summer reading. Hung out with my friends.” You flashed a reassuring smile at Jeno. “Right, Jen?”
Immediately, he relaxed a little bit. “Yeah.”
San appeared from behind Yunho, Jeno and Wooyoung. “Thanks, Y/N. I owe you one.”
You waved your hand, wanting them to get rid of them quickly. “Don’t mention it. But next time, just text me for my notes. I have to get to work, so…”
“Oh! My bad,” He answered with fake remorse, before unlocking his phone and handing it over to you. “Here. For next time.”
You stifled a deep sigh, punching in the numbers hesitantly. “Just for homework, got it?”
San took his phone back, holding a hand over his heart and raised his head. “On a gentleman's honor,” He declared, and you bit back a laugh. Jeno looked like he was going to hurl.
“San!” The team captain—Hongjoong—called from a few feet away, “Are you guys done yet or what?”
“Coming!” San yelled back.
“Alright, we’ll let you go,” Wooyoung said, patting Jeno on the back again, a bit too harsh for comfort. “Bye, Y/N! See you around.”
The three of them stalked off, leaving you and a very frazzled Jeno. “Dicks,” You muttered once they were out of earshot. “You good?”
Jeno shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine.”
You tilted your head, frowning. “Jeno—”
“I gotta go,” He said quickly. “I’ll see you later?”
You nodded, offering a lopsided smile. “Yeah. Be careful!”
Jeno offered a deep bow, fluttering his eyelashes. “On a gentleman’s honor,” He sighed, adding a very bad British accent to it. You burst out laughing, eyes squeezing shut.
You didn’t catch the way Jeno’s shoulders relaxed at the sound.
I want you to know now
Baby, it could go down
I don’t wanna talk about it
Baby, let’s just go now
The train ride into Midtown didn’t take too long. He spent it digging through his backpack for his Park Industries lanyard, listening to music and thinking about you.
When you talk right to me
You gon’ have to do me
Every time you think you’re leaving
You running back to me
You’d met Jeno when you were six. Truth be told, he didn’t really remember. For him it was like you weren’t there at one point and by the time you were, you were thicker than thieves. It was a difficult time for him. He had just lost both of his parents, and was moving in with his Aunt Sunny and his Uncle Jinki, who were barely out of college at the time. He’d had to move to a new school and basically restart his entire life. You were the first sense of stability in his life for months.
Your mom lived next to his aunt and uncle. So naturally, you went to the same school and went on the same bus. And somewhere along the way, you two clicked. You’d introduced him to Renjun, Jaemin and Donghyuck. You were there to comfort him whenever he got pushed off the slide by San or Wooyoung.
He was there for you when your stepdad and stepbrother moved in when you were nine and you weren’t sure how to deal with it. He was there when your mom died when you were thirteen. He’d introduced you and your friends to Mark, Chenle and Jisung.
And you were there when his Uncle Jinki got killed when he was fifteen. And because fate had an especially cruel sense of irony, it had happened on a Tuesday. You didn’t know, but at the time, he had just gotten his powers. Your comfort and words unknowingly had a secondary effect: he made the decision to use them for good, and… well. The rest was history.
Can we just talk? Can we just talk?
Talk about where we're goin'
Before we get lost, lend me your thoughts
Can't get what we want without knowin'
Just like when he met you, he didn’t recall an exact moment where he realized he’d fallen in love with you. He knew there was a world where he loved you, but wasn’t in love with you. And he knew that there was a world here he’d fallen in love with you—he was living in that world now. He realized he was living in that world maybe when he was sixteen, and had been stuck in it ever since.
You were it for him. He’d had crushes before. But never something like this, where he was so aware of your presence around him. It wasn’t the way he was hyper aware of someone like San, or like Yunho or Jongho. It wasn’t out of anxiety or fear, where a shift in mood activated his fight or flight. He was aware of you in a way that only people who truly know each other do, where he could pick up on subtle changes in your behavior, but not out of fear. Rather, out of a desire to take care of you and to not have you worry about anything.
I've never felt like this before
I apologize if I'm movin' too far
Can we just talk? Can we just talk?
Figure out where we're goin'...
As the train rolled into the station that was a fifteen minute walk from Park Tower, Jeno put away his headphones and took a deep breath.
The “Jeno Tingle” as his Aunt Sunny called it—Jeno hated the term—had taken him a few years to gain control of. And while he could never truly turn it off, he could at least tune it out enough to be more at ease. The only time he did so was at school or when he was studying, just because he wanted to feel normal, and because being aware of everything going on around him really messed with his concentration.
Jaemin didn’t understand. “If I was able to tell whenever Seonghwa was behind me because he wanted to scare me into doing his chemistry homework, I’d never turn that shit off,” He’d said once. But truthfully, Jeno didn’t really care. Because while yes, he was still slightly scared of the “hateful eight”, he knew damn well that if things got to be too much, he could kick their asses if he wanted to.
It was his friends he worried about. He couldn’t be around them 24/7. You, not so much. He knew you knew how to fight. Even worse, he knew that San had the hots for you so you were off limits to the rest of them, be it bullying or flirting. But for everyone else… Well. He couldn’t hover over them like some guardian angel.
Now that the “Jeno Tingle” was on, it allowed him to sense everyone within a certain range around him. He could zero in on certain sounds with ease, and his reflexes became heightened. Halfway on his walk up Park Avenue, he jumped away from a chihuahua on its leash a second before it started barking at him.
When he entered the first floor lobby of the Park Building, he scoured the crowd of employees and visitors until he landed on one familiar face.
He'd met Doyoung about a year after his dad started dating your mom. Things between your parents were starting to get serious, and Doyoung was four years older than you were. When they moved into your house, Doyoung as your new stepbrother became the de facto chaperone and babysitter. If you wanted to go to the mall with Jeno, he had to take you. Every time you dragged Jeno to the movies, Doyoung had to go also.
To an extent, it wasn't that bad. Doyoung was cool, and he was smart—he was the one who got Jeno interested in computers and chemistry. He graduated high school at 16, and finished his bachelor's degree at 19. He'd also interned at Park Industries, and secured a job there almost immediately after college.
To an extent, he was the whole reason Mr. Park knew who he was, because of one incident. It was relatively soon after he started the whole vigilante thing. Jeno, still figuring out how to maneuver on the webs that shot out of his wrists, had accidentally crashed into your backyard late at night, when only Doyoung was awake. He was standing in the back door while he was waiting for his dog to finish peeing.
Initially, the older boy had freaked out, thinking that it was a burglar or something. When he yelled out that his dad was a cop and was asleep in the house, Jeno panicked, and pulled off his mask, holding up his hands.
“Woah, woahwoahwoah! Doyoung! It’s me, it’s me!”
Doyoung’s eyes had widened to the size of saucers, paying no mind to the dog as it sauntered up to Jeno, before turning onto its back in a request for belly rubs.
"You're the spider guy everyone's been talking about!?"
"Spider man," Jeno had answered, voice cracking as he dusted himself off. He cringed at the sound of his voice. "...and yes."
Of course, his cover was blown, and he'd begged Doyoung not to tell anyone, especially not you. And while Doyoung had promised not to tell you, it didn't stop him from telling his boss.
That had been almost three years ago now. The rest was history, and after that Jeno didn’t have to run around in bright red sweatpants and dollar store swimming goggles. Now, he had a nanotech suit that allowed him to activate protocols of the suit through voice commands using something top-secret Mr. Park called D.R.E.A.M technology. Direct Response Engaged As Machine—yeah, Jeno didn’t get it either.
Doyoung offered Jeno a smile as he escorted Jeno past security, showing them his employee clearance pass. "Hey. How have you been?"
Jeno shrugged, recounting his day in minor detail as he was led into an elevator labeled authorized personnel only.
This elevator only went up to the 35th floor, seeing as everything past that was only cleared for a certain list of people approved by Mr. Park and his security team, and everything past the 90th floor were Mr. Park's private living quarters.
Now, as Doyoung led him to another elevator to head up to the 85th floor, which was always where Jeno got to meet with Mr. Park—which wasn't often, maybe once or twice a year—he wondered where he would be if he hadn’t surprised Doyoung that night. He would probably still be using those ugly red sweatpants as part of his disguise.
"How's Y/N?" Doyoung asked.
"Oh, she seems okay. That guy who hates me keeps coming onto her though. He's a huge douchebag."
Doyoung frowned. "He's not harassing her, is he? Because if he is—"
"He just won't stop flirting, even though she clearly isn't interested," Jeno said bitterly, "He isn't physical or anything. Trust me, it wouldn't end well for him if he was."
Doyoung wasn't quite sure how to respond to the younger boy's dark tone. He looked down, clearing his throat awkwardly.
“So… how’s the apartment?” Jeno asked. Doyoung perked up instantly.
“Oh, now that Taeyong’s moved in and did his interior design thing, it looks great. He’s really done a great job at it.”
“When am I gonna meet this guy? He sounds cool.”
“He’s really cool,” Doyoung hummed, cheeks heating up. “Things are getting really serious.”
Jeno smiled at how flustered Doyoung, who was normally so level headed and calm, became at the mention of his boyfriend.
“You guys sound like a really good couple,” He said. Doyoung chuckled, waving his hand. “Oh, well—”
The elevator dinged, and Doyoung sighed. “I’ll tell you later. C’mon.”
The hallway it opened up to was lined with pictures of the company's history, starting from pictures of black and white of people in vintage clothing, to pictures in sepia tones to finally pictures of the current CEO at locations around the world: Chanyeol Park.
Jeno walked behind Doyoung as he led him down the hallway, before stopping in front of a door, and a friendly looking man in a suit.
Junmyeon was a part of Chanyeol’s Security and Intelligence team, and often sat in on these meetings with Jeno. The chain of contact also included him. If Jeno couldn’t contact Doyoung (which rarely happened), he’d contact Junmyeon. And if he couldn’t contact either of them, or it was an emergency, only then could he contact Chanyeol. So far, that had only happened once.
"Hey, Junmyeon," Doyoung said, "Mr. Park's 4:30 is here."
Junmyeon nodded, before smiling at Jeno and giving him a wave. "Hey, kid."
Jeno offered an awkward grin. "Hi, Mr. Kim."
Junmyeon rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Kid, you're making me feel ancient. I've told you a million times, just call me Junmyeon."
Jeno shuffled awkwardly, before nodding at the older man, watching as he pressed a button on his earpiece. "Hey, Yeol. Jeno's here."
The muffled response was barely heard, but Jeno automatically understood what Mr. Park said. Junmyeon turned to open the door, and let the pair inside. The “office”—if it could even be called that—opened up to more of a lounge, than anything. A wall of glass overlooked the Manhattan skyline, but Jeno knew that from the outside it looked only like a wall, due to camouflage technology developed by Mr. Park himself. As Doyoung and Junmyeon stayed back, closer to the door, Jeno took a few steps toward the man in question.
Chanyeol was standing a few feet in front of the glass window, working on a holographic model of a new piece of tech. His face was turned downward in a concentrated frown. He barely spared the teenager a glance as he said fondly, “Hey, kid.”
Jeno was used to this. Chanyeol wasn’t cold per se, but he wasn’t warm at all. He knew that Chanyeol cared about him, even if he didn’t really show it in a conventional way. Chanyeol was a very… eccentric man, so he had his own way of saying and doing things.
“Hi, Mr. Park. Um… you wanted to talk to me?”
“Yep! Needed some help from the friendly neighborhood Spiderman… A little birdie told me about something going on in Queens.”
“Queens?” Jeno asked, gripping the straps of his backpack. “You mean, other than the usual stuff?”
“Other than the usual stuff,” Chanyeol repeated, nodding. With a wave of his hand, the hologram disappeared, and another one appeared in its place. This time, instead of a 3D model, a few pictures and another, smaller 3D model appeared. Chanyeol turned to face him, frown deepening. He pointed at the model—a long, shiny oval-shaped purple stone. It reminded Jeno of an amethyst, but instead of turning white at the base, it turned to an iridescent jade tone. “You know what this is, right?”
Jeno nodded, remembering seeing the rocks all over the news when he was a kid. “That’s… that’s a Chitauri stone. From the invasion a few years back.”
Chanyeol nodded, standing up straight. “These stones have the potential to power weapons with no need to recharge, or change them out. They’re an infinite, extremely strong power source, Jeno, and in the wrong hands can be very dangerous.”
Jeno took a deep breath, feeling his stomach sink slowly. Chanyeol sighed. “Cleanup of the city after the invasion was long, and difficult, and obviously the government and the company weren’t able to get everything. It caused a black market to pop up. Now, the NYPD has been investigating it for years, but they have their limits… that’s where you come in.”
“M-me, Mr. Park?”
Chanyeol gave him a crooked, reassuring smile. He pointed at one of the pictures, which was of a man who most likely didn’t know he was photographed. He was walking somewhere, face looking angry and stern.
“You don’t know who this is, right?”
Jeno shook his head, and Chanyeol turned his head to nod at Junmyeon. “You’re up, tough guy.”
Junmyeon huffed, before walking up to Jeno. He put his hand on Jeno’s shoulder as if he could tell that he was growing anxious.
“Jeno, that’s Henry Duke. From what we understand on the intel team, he’s one of the cornerstones of the alien tech black market. He’s one of the top dogs. From what we understand, he likes to be present for all major negotiations that his group makes. A source of ours told us that there’s going to be a negotiation on Friday night not too far away from LaGuardia. We want you to go out there and just get a feel of what’s going on.”
“Just watch them, right?” Jeno looked at Junmyeon, who patted his back reassuringly. “Just watch. Don’t engage unless you absolutely have to.”
“You can do that, right?” Chanyeol said quietly, crossing his arms. “Because if not, then it’s totally—”
“Yeah, of course I can! Friday—shit, Friday. At what time are they supposed to be meeting up?”
Junmyeon furrowed his eyebrows, before answering, “Around eight or nine.”
Jeno bit his lip, thinking about the promise he’d made to you. It would just have to wait, he supposed. Chanyeol rarely asked anything this big of him.
“Alright,” Jeno agreed, “I’ll do it.”
Chanyeol grinned, clapping his hands together.
“Perfect.”
They discussed logistics briefly after. Doyoung would be on call with Jeno, his custom made suit allowing them to communicate, letting Doyoung see everything Jeno was seeing via a video feed coming from the ultra thin lenses placed in the white eye sockets of the mask. Doyoung would then report to Junmyeon, who would report to Chanyeol, who would probably report to the FBI. Jeno was only to engage if absolutely necessary.
After that, he set out on patrol. He usually found some discreet place to hide his backpack, and then went all over Queens looking for trouble, quite literally. Around five thirty, he stopped a robbery in Murray Hill. Then, around seven, he stopped a man from stealing a woman’s purse in Elmhurst. Nothing too much.
Around eight, he finally headed home, this time dressed normally, using the train and not web fluid. He walked home, tired, knowing that he’d immediately have to do that cursed AP calc homework. When he got home, he opened his backpack pocket to look for his keys, rummaging between his notebooks and other things.
Shuffling through his stuff, he furrowed his eyebrows as he couldn’t find them. Thinking back, he remembered this morning, when he’d left in a rush… and had very obviously left his keys on his desk.
“Shit,” He muttered to himself. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, remembering that Aunt Sunny had said she’d be working overtime tonight. He could very easily sneak in through his window, but he was pretty sure he’d locked it the night before, and it was too early. People’s lights were still on—anyone could see him if they just looked up, and then he would be screwed.
Huffing and zipping his backpack up, he marched up to your house, before ringing the doorbell. He shifted his weight back and forth, from his heels to the balls of his feet, until the door opened up. A familiar man with a face just like Doyoung's, but older, with graying hair and arms scarred and muscled from years of working on the police force stood in the doorway.
“Jeno?” Your dad offered him a warm smile. “Hey, kiddo, what’s up?”
“Hi, Mr. Kim,” Jeno said, smiling back. He shifted nervously. “I, um… I left my keys in my room this morning, and my aunt’s working late, so… could I… maybe wait here? Y/N’s home, right?”
The man nodded. “Of course, of course. Come in!”
Your dad had always been super friendly, even from the day Jeno had first met him. You'd told Jeno once that he was the only real father figure you'd ever had. Once everything settled after him and your mom got married, you started calling him dad altogether. And since you and Jeno were practically glued at the hip, he got along with your dad almost as well as you did.
“Okay.” Jeno stepped in and set down his backpack at the base of the coat rack next to the door, as he’d done a million times before. Jeno stepped into the living room, and sat down on the couch. He folded his hands in his lap and looked up at your dad.
"I think Y/N's in the shower, but she should be done soon. You can just wait here if you want… have you eaten anything yet?”
“Uh, I had a granola bar on the train, but that’s it.”
“We have some leftover pasta here, if you want—”
“Thanks, Mr. Kim, really! I’m fine.”
Your dad nodded, sitting down on his recliner. “So, have you started your college list, yet? Y/N said you wanted to stay here in New York.”
Jeno nodded, pushing some hair out of his face. “Well, yeah. It would make things a lot easier, I think. I might want to apply to NYU, but I think I’ll just go to community college, or something.”
Your dad shook his head. “You’re a pretty smart kid, Jeno. I think you could get into Columbia if you set out to. Plus, Chanyeol Park doesn’t give out internships to anybody. That’s your secret weapon.”
Jeno smiled. “Well, you’ve got a point.”
Your dad gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Come on, trying won’t hurt!” Your dad made a face, and then rubbed his knuckles. “Have you been working out? Those muscles weren’t there the last time I did that.”
Jeno laughed, trying to think of an excuse. “Oh, a little bit? The house needed some fixing up over the summer, and I wanted to help Aunt Sunny, so…”
“Jeno?”
He turned immediately, eyes landing on you at the base of the staircase. You’d changed into an old t-shirt and pajama pants. Your hair was slightly damp. “What are you doing here?” You asked, with a curious smile.
His shoulders slumped, and he grinned sheepishly. “Terrible Tuesday strikes again. I forgot my keys.”
You grimaced. “Brutal, dude. You wanna come up?” Your eyes moved to your dad. “Or am I interrupting guy time?”
“Oh, definitely,” Jeno answered, playing along. He took a cocky tone as he rested his hands on the back of his neck. “Your dad was just telling me about how much the NYPD needs me.”
You stifled a laugh. You dad seemed to be holding back a laugh too. "Hey, you're joking, but if you keep working out like that, and if by some impossible chance, the college thing doesn't work out… We might just be able to catch Spiderman if we finally got some brain cells on the force."
"Ugh, dad," You groaned, unaware of Jeno's gut twisting, "Not again."
"Yeah, Mr. Kim," Jeno said, scratching the back of his head, "He's not that bad."
Your dad shook his head. "Look, I don't hate the guy. In all honesty, crime rates have dropped since he started doing his thing. But he thinks he's above the law, and his methods can be a bit… unorthodox sometimes. He’s been undermining us for years and his tech is state of the art. Makes me wonder about what we should do to modernize the force."
Jeno looked downward, wondering what would happen if your dad knew the truth.
"Well, I guess we may just never find out. Jeno'd make a horrible cop. He couldn't hurt a fly if you paid him a million dollars."
But you came to the rescue as you grabbed his backpack, and soon enough he was up the stairs with you, heading into your bedroom, laughing to yourselves when you heard your dad jokingly call out, "Fifteen inch distance, you two! Door stays open!"
He sat on your desk chair while you lay on your bed, limbs splaying out.
"So you left your keys."
Jeno groaned. "Don't remind me. I was in such a rush to leave, that I… I forgot. I'm so stupid."
You rolled your eyes, rolling over onto your stomach to look at him. "You're not stupid, Jen. You made an honest mistake because you were in a hurry."
Standing up, you walked over to him and leaned against the desk. "Seriously, Jeno. What's gotten into you, lately? You freak out about every little thing. It's starting to worry me."
Jeno shook his head. "I don't know," He admitted. "I think I'm just scared about how after this year, everything changes. Renjun’s headed upstate. Jaemin’s going to Boston. You want to go to LA. I think Hyuck and I are the only ones who want to stay here. I just… I don't want things to change."
Your expression turned sad as he continued. "Everyone is expecting great things from me. You're smart, Jeno. You can get into an Ivy. Or, you have a Park internship, you'll be fine. What if I don't want things to be fine? What if I want them to just stay the same?"
You stayed silent for a few moments, trying to think of what to say. Jeno was relatively level headed for someone your age, but even he had moments of doubt and panic. It made moments like these difficult. You sighed before grabbing him by the hand. Wordlessly, you tugged him over to the bed, sitting him down and leaning your head on his shoulder. He could feel the dampness in your hair seeping slowly into his shirt.
"I guess I understand what you mean," You mumbled, trying to reason with him, "But come on. You wouldn't really want everything to stay the same. You can't tell me you want to keep getting AP calc homework. And I definitely doubt that you'd want to have your ass kicked by San for the rest of your life."
Jeno looked at the floor. "You're right. But you know that's not what I mean—"
"I know," You huffed, "I'm just saying. Change… it's inevitable. The longer you fight it, the harder it is."
Jeno nodded. "This sucks."
"It does," You agreed, taking his hand in yours. "But at least we have each other's backs, y'know?"
Something of a smile appeared on his face. You were so close to him, leaning on him, stroking his knuckles with your thumb. He hoped you couldn't hear his heart pounding in his chest.
"We really do, huh?" His voice turned quiet, with a bit of a sleepy lull to it. He allowed his head to rest on yours. "You're so comfortable. Can I like, use you as a pillow for the rest of my life?"
You giggled. "I'll consider it on two conditions."
"Oh, you'll consider. How generous of you."
"Yes, I'll consider. Now, do you wanna hear my terms or not?"
Jeno raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead," He said, before putting on his best Marlon Brando voice, "Make me an offer I can't refuse."
Snorting, you lifted your head off of his. "Okay. One, you finish your calculus homework here before Sunny gets home."
He pursed his lips. "Okay, I could probably do that. What's the other one?"
"Let me drive you to school for the rest of the year."
Jeno stared at you, and you nodded, eyes wide. "Trust me, Jen. You wouldn't need to wake up so early! And plus, you can't text the guy manning the subway asking him to give you five minutes because you need to find your keys."
Jeno gnawed on the inside of his cheek. You did have a point, and to be honest, he could probably refrain from putting his feet up on your dashboard.
"Deal."
You grinned. "Awesome," You answered, before nodding towards his backpack. "Now get to work, Einstein."
The rest of the week wasn't that bad. Yes, you were absolutely batshit insane about your truck in the morning, but he soon realized he didn't really mind. Not when it allowed you both to spend some twenty extra minutes together in the mornings, and they were spent joking around and listening to your extremely varied playlist.
On the other hand, he was saddled with more and more homework, greater and greater expectations. The looming threat of Friday's mission rolled around, and it made Jeno feel like time was passing much too slowly but also way too quickly. There was so much on his mind. He had chemistry with you on Thursdays in the afternoon, which also meant that San was there. Which also meant that sometimes, his heightened senses would pick up on San dropping a tacky pick up line which made Jeno want to punch him in the jaw.
Finally, finally, Friday afternoon rolled around. As he bid you goodbye and promised to see you later, he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach. The feeling that something was about to go very, very wrong. He went out on patrol, ready for Doyoung to set up the call and tell him where he needed to go. It didn’t help that there wasn’t a lot for him to do that day. Crime had seemed to slow down altogether.
When the time finally came, and the sun was beginning to set, Doyoung rang in at about 7, telling him the location. An old warehouse near LaGuardia airport, hidden from prying eyes. Jeno made his way to the place, avoiding security cameras Doyoung warned him about, and found a place to hide. There was a hole in the warehouse roof, which allowed him to peer right into the building without being seen. It was about thirty feet from the ground.
“Why is it always old, abandoned warehouses?” Jeno grumbled. He heard Doyoung laugh quietly.
“Beats me,” Doyoung sighed.
And so they waited. Jeno wondered vaguely if you were still working. He wasn’t sure. They made time talking quietly, until a black SUV rolled into the warehouse. “Woah, Doyoung,” He murmured, “Hold up.”
Jeno leaned forward, but quickly realized he probably wouldn’t be able to hear what was being said. “D.R.E.A.M, activate Heightened Intelligence Protocol.”
Activating Heightened Intelligence Protocol.
The protocol allowed Jeno to use the lenses over his eyes to zoom in on specific targets, as well as use a microphone embedded in the suit to pick up audio from far away and feed it directly into his ears.
He watched as three figures got out of the car, a fourth remaining in the driver’s seat. The trio stood in front of the car, and Jeno recognized the man in the middle as the man Junmyeon had been talking about.
“Alright, there’s Henry Duke,” He said, “The one in the middle.”
“Got it,” Doyoung replied, sounding satisfied. “Now all we have to do is wait for the other party.”
“Did Junmyeon’s sources say anything about who it would be?”
“No. They weren’t able to find that out. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”
Jeno���s eyes never left the man. “Do you think it’s something international?”
Doyoung sighed. “I’m not sure. If it is international, then you need to be even more careful.”
“Got it. I think—Wait, here they come.”
A second vehicle, this one another black SUV, rolled up not too far away from the first car. The lights turned off and the engine sputtered to a stop, and four men stepped out of the vehicle.
Jeno’s stomach dropped, and of its own accord, his mouth let loose a quiet, “What the fuck,” as he registered the person leading them.
“What?” Doyoung asked, before realizing what—who—he was looking at. “...Is that my dad?”
“I think it is,” Jeno whispered, fingertips suddenly numb. Who was he kidding? They both knew who it was.
“So,” One of the men next to your dad said, “You show us yours, we’ll show you ours?”
Henry Duke clapped his hands together with an impish grin. “I suppose. Reagan, get the case.”
One of the two men standing beside him started off toward the trunk of the car. “It caught me off guard when I heard that the force wanted to purchase these. Almost made me wonder if this was your attempt at a sting operation.”
“What made you change your mind?” Your dad asked. Jeno swallowed at how cold he sounded. This wasn’t your dad, and it didn’t seem like Officer Kim either. This was someone Jeno had never met before.
“Honestly, Kim?” Duke raised an eyebrow, shrugging. “It was you. Your cooperativeness and willing to feed us information, as well as your… insurance agreement. And besides, you made a very interesting point when you said that the Avengers Initiative and Park’s alum Spiderman is ruining the way the law operates around here. That type of bitterness… hard to fake.”
Your dad huffed. “We’re fucking tired of it.”
The man leaning against the car your dad had stepped out of scoffed. “If this helps us catch the little asshole, then so be it.”
Jeno frowned. “I’m not little—”
“Jeno, shut up!” Doyoung snapped.
“—Alright, then.” The man holding the briefcase—Reagan—clicked it open, as if it were a prize reveal on The Price is Right. Five guns, all modified to hold glowing Chitauri stones were placed carefully together side by side.
“You know the basics. No radiation. Keep it away from security scanners and x-rays. They will blow up. And second of all, these are at half the price, along with the promise from the chief of police that my business won’t be touched, and will only be distributed to officers in on the operation and have agreed to turn off their body cameras when they decide to use these weapons. Should this not be a sting operation, we’ll be back here to negotiate.”
Jeno leaned forward, watching anxiously.
“Yes, sir,” Your dad answered, nodding. “We have the money here.”
“Hand it over, then.”
That was when Jeno made his mistake. He leaned forward too much, and proceeded to fall right through the hole, bringing down some scraps of the roof with him. As he tumbled through the air, the zoom on his lenses caused him to grow dizzy as he had no idea what he was looking at. He caught himself before he could fall, clumsily commanding D.R.E.A.M to go back to turn off the current protocol. His vision returned to normal, and he swung up onto a rafter holding the warehouse up.
“So, we have company.” Duke didn’t sound as amused as he had before. His face turned into a sneer. “Get him.”
In less than a second, before Jeno could say anything, five guns were pointed directly at him. He managed to swing away before any bullets could hit him.
“Jeno, get out of there now,” Doyoung ordered.
“What about the guns?” Jeno asked, swinging to another rafter. “They know I’m here, I might as well get them before I go—”
“No! Jeno, listen to what I’m telling you. You’ve done more than enough, and you need to let it g—”
Your dad aimed, and a bullet fired right at Jeno’s chest. For a second, he forgot that the chest area of the suit was lined with bulletproof material. While it didn’t shoot into his chest, it ricocheted right off him, and since he was in motion, it somehow caused the bullet to bounce back in the direction in which it came.
The wind was knocked out of Jeno, but it was nothing compared to watching the bullet land in the middle of your father’s chest. On the other line, he heard Doyoung yell, followed by the sound of something falling. And then, as he made his way back towards the hole he’d fallen out of, he couldn’t rip his eyes away from the body as it crumpled to the ground.
The others around him scrambled to get back into their respective cars. Jeno was back on the roof now, trying not to hyperventilate. “I’m sorry,” He gasped, “Do—Doyoung, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to—”
“Jeno, you need to get out of there, now,” Doyoung said, voice raspy. “GO!”
So he did, and Doyoung cut off the call once he was out of the vicinity. Jeno didn’t blame him. He swung across buildings, feeling numb as he looked for the apartment complex roof where he’d decided to hide his backpack.
When he finally did, he changed in a hurry, before slumping against the wall and forcing himself to take deep breaths.
Doyoung’s dad—your dad—was dead. And it was all his fault.
He cried on the way down the staircase. He cried on his way to the subway. The entire time, he ignored people’s stares. Suddenly everything was too loud, and if he met someone in the eyes he’d just about break down in the middle of the station.
As he got onto the train, Jeno thought about all of the things your dad had done for you, and for Jeno. All the times he'd taken you both to Coney Island in the summer when you were younger. The year Pokemon Go came out he took the both of you driving around in his car so you and Jeno could catch as many Pokemon as you could.
He’d formally adopted you when you were thirteen. You were his daughter in nearly every sense of the word, regardless of blood. And now he was dead, because of a stupid mistake that Jeno had made.
What would you say if you knew? He didn’t want to know. Checking the time on his phone, he saw he’d gotten a message from you just three minutes ago.
[8:36 PM]
y/n: lemme know when ur outside!! :)
“Fuck,” He murmured, wiping his eyes. He knew he needed to stop crying before he got to your house, and he had about ten minutes before he got to his stop, and then another five minute walk to the neighborhood. He focused on taking deep breaths and taking long swigs from his water bottle in the meantime, trying to tune out the sound of other people talking and the sound of the train on the rails.
The walk was the longest five minute walk he’d ever taken. The flashing lights of convenience stores did nothing to calm him down. As the stores in his peripheral vision began transitioning into suburban homes, he felt his heart speed up again. The constant movement as he walked meant he missed his phone vibrating in his backpack as you rang his number.
After what seemed like an eternity, two familiar houses came into his line of vision, and his shoulders slumped as he spotted you on your porch, looking small and teary, curled up into a little ball. In one hand, you were clutching your phone.
His stomach twisted as he put on a confused tone, even though he knew damn well that you knew. “...Y/N?”
You stood up, running to him and burying yourself into his chest, crumpling into his arms. You would have fell over if Jeno hadn’t held both of you up.
“Jeno,” You sobbed, “You’re n-not go-onna believe it.”
He brought a hand up to caress your hair, holding back tears of his own as he asked a question he already knew the answer to.
“Y/N, what happened?”
taglist: @decembermoonskz @itsapapisongo @lenaluvs @crescentjen
#kwritersworldnet#nct angst#nct x reader#jeno x reader#jeno angst#jeno fluff#nct au#jeno au#kpop scenarios#kpop angst#kpop imagines#nct dream x reader#lee jeno x reader#my writing
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"Weird Secret Friends" *Chapter 2*
Part 1
Part 3
Y'all IDK what it is about this story but I can just write and write and write. This one ended up being 11 pages [on a google doc] And I only stopped because it's 2:15 am.
I hope you guys like this, but I just want to clarify: This isn't a Barisi fic. I'm sorry, if you're looking for that, just...this isn't it. I mean they do interact and it'll be fun, but they will not be ending up together.
That being said, enjoy this new chapter! I'm debating on how pathetic enamored Sonny is, I don't think I'm gonna go that deep. No worries, people.
As always let me know if you want to be added/deleted off the tag list!! <3
Tag List
@madamsnape921
@lolliepopsicle
@chasingeverybreakingwave
@milkshqke
@wanniiieeee
@word-scribbless
@gibbs274
@sassyada
@aprildecker-blog
@bookishfanfic
@stars-in-the-skies-world
@stars-trash-18
@omgsuperstarg
@objection-argumentative
-------
"Y/N, I'm so happy for you and Barba. You make the cutest couple," Sonny beamed at you while you were wrapped in Rafael's arms, huge smiles on all of your faces.
"Thank you Sonny, that means so much." You gave him a warm hug.
"Yeah….and you'll make the cutest couple in HELL!" All of a sudden Sonny pushed both you and Rafael off a cliff.
You were falling to your death when you woke up to your professor glaring at you.
"Have a nice nap, Miss Y/N?" He scowled at you.
"Um," You cleared your throat and straightened up at your desk. "Yes sir,"
"Good," he huffed as he headed to the front of the classroom once more. "Maybe now we can continue without your snoring,"
You heard the students around you snicker at his comments as You sunk lower into your desk and waited for class to end. It had been a long train ride home and then a drive to your apartment last night, you hadn't gotten home until around 2 am and had this 8 am class. As soon as the professor dismissed your class you booked it out of the class and out into the parking lot of your community college.
"Ugh, could this day get any--" before you could even finish your thought you got your answer. Your phone beeped with a text from Rafael:
RAFA: Hey killer, how's the bullshit county? 😉
That was the nice thing, then just as you were about to text him back your phone lit up.
SONNY BOI CALLING
"Shit!" You hissed to no one. "How does he know?!"
"Ahem….Heyyy, cuz," You answered it with your best nonchalant voice. That of course sounded totally chalant.
"Hey sunshine," His voice sounded relaxed, thank God.
"What's up?" You tried keeping your tone light as you neared your car.
"Well y'know I was just thinkin, I feel real bad about standing you up last night,"
"Oh, Son it's no big deal really," the fact that he felt guilty about anything made you feel even more guilty.
"No, I know you have a busy schedule and it takes a lot to get into the City and I just blew you off," He kept on with the guilt train.
"You didn't blow me off Son you had work. I get that--" You unlocked your car and got in, starting it so your windows would thaw. And your whole body.
"Well I wanna make it up to you," He cut you off.
"Oh?" your voice fell short. This couldn't be good.
"Yeah, my boss-- well he's not really My boss but Mr. Barba--"
Oh shit. Barba? Was Barba having a party? Why wouldn't He tell you that? Wait why WOULD he tell you that? Stupid. Wait, what was Sonny saying?
".... birthday, so you could be like my date," you caught the tail end of his invite.
"Birthday?" You repeated like a parrot. It was Barba's birthday? Oh god. You were really trying not to focus on how old he was. Don't ask. For the love of god don't say it Sonny.
"Yeah don't worry you don't need to get him anything, I got it covered," Sonny assured you.
Well, that was one way you could figure out just how much your cousin cared about his "idol". The more expensive the gift, the stronger the feelings were. You wondered whether you should ask him now or wait for the surprise. Maybe you should ask now, then his answer should tell you what you'd be getting into.
*So what did you get this 'non boss' of yours?" You asked slyly.
"Oh," now Sonny's voice dropped. "Well I, I don't wanna say,"
Fuck.
Don't panic. Do not panic.
"Oh come on Sonny," you did your best to keep a joking tone. "What am I gonna do, tell him?"
Should you joke about it? Hidden in plain sight, right?
"No I guess not, it's not like you know him,"
Whew.
"It's just kinda embarrassing…."
Oh god.
"O-Oh?" You tried to stay calm. "Why's that? Is it a gag gift?"
Please be a gag gift.
"Actually it's a new briefcase," He replied.
"Oh why is that embarrassing you goof?” You gave him a hard time. What was that in the emotional baggage department? Pun intended.
"I mean, it's more expensive than the one I own," You could hear the shrug in his voice.
Fuck. Don't ask why. Don't ask. But if you don't ask, that will be even more suspicious wouldn't it?
"Oh Son," You asked softly. "Why would you do that?"
"Well the one he has is as old as dirt, I think it's probably the first one he ever bought. I wanted him to look snazzy in court." He replied with a super eager tone.
"That's sweet," you were pounding your steering wheel in frustration. Say it.
"Seems like a lot of work for a mentor though," You closed your eyes mentally killing yourself.
"Yeah well," he laughed uncomfortably.
Say it.
"Sonny…” You didn’t want to do this.
“Yeah?” He was oblivious.
“You know you can always talk to me,”
“Yeah of course,” He assured you.
“About anything,” You scrunched your nose.
“Yeah I know, sunshine,” He half laughed.
“ANYTHING,” You reiterated
There was a long awkward pause.
“...Sonny?” You made sure he hadn’t hung up on you.
“Yeah, I'm here,” He replied softly.
“So?” You waited for the bomb to drop.
So…. He sighed. "I just want him to like me,"
Dammit.
"....Yeah," You nodded, cursing yourself.
"Yeah, its stupid. I'm stupid." He laughed again.
“You're not stupid,” you laid your head on the steering wheel in shame.” I mean the heart wants what it wants right?”
“What?! Oh my god, Y/N,” He scoffed. “I'm not gay,”
“….Sonny it's 2021,” you shook your head. “Sexuality is a spectrum,”
Right well. He laughed defensively. "I'm on the p in the v scale,"
“Ugh, Sonny,” you made a face.
“Sorry sunshine,” He apologized. “I just...why would you even think that?!”
“Uh…” You paused.
Maybe he wasn't fully aware that he had romantic feelings for Rafael. If you started pointing out the signs, he might realize it. But then you'd have a cousin going through gay panic AND then finding out it doesn't matter anyway.
"No reason," You lied.
"I just want him to like him so he'll give me a good recommendation once I graduate Fordham Law,"
"Oh" you smacked your head. "Duh. Right. Of course,"
That was completely legitimate. Maybe you had been misreading this whole thing. Now you just had the whole overprotective Gotti side of Sonny to worry about.
"Well I guess I could spend the weekend in the city," You shrugged as you pulled out of the parking lot.
“Absolutely!” He exclaimed. “My couch is always open,”
Not exactly where you were thinking of sleeping, but you weren't blowing your cover over the phone. Wait, maybe you should. Then he couldn't kill you over the phone. Wait, he's presumably at work right now. You didn't know how closely he worked with Barba, but you figured it would be a hell of a lot easier for Sonny to get to him before you could stop him from killing Rafael.
"Sure sounds good. I'll see you then cuz,” You smiled and hung up the phone.
------
Friday arrived, and you once again found yourself standing outside Forlini's. You debated heavily whether to go in or not, but you told yourself you were going to wait for Sonny outside this time, no more risking a sexy bar rendezvous.
You hadn’t really responded to Rafael’s texts the last few days, and you certainly didn’t tell him you were coming. Maybe you should have told him. You grabbed your phone to text him when you heard a familiar voice behind you:
“Y/N?”
You spun around to see Rafael dressed to the 9’s, smiling at you. He smelled delicious, mixed with the food aroma wafting out of the restaurant and the smell of freshly fallen snow in New York City.
“...Happy Birthday, Counselor,” You bit your lip nervously.
“W-What are you doing here?” He stared at you as if he thought he was dreaming.
“Sonny invited me,” You nervously smiled.
“Seriously?” He laughed.
“Seriously,” You nodded with a laugh as well.
“Did-- did you say anything to him?” He asked you worriedly.
“Are you insane?!” You hit him. “No!”
“So why did he invite you here?” He asked.
“He said it was to make up for ditching me the other night,” You shrugged.
“...The irony,” He smirked.
“Mmm,” You nodded with an amused smile.
“Well this is a very happy birthday indeed,” He smiled, pulling you closer into his coat similar to the night you had met.
“....Just don’t ask which one it is,” He warned you while staring at your lips deviously.
“Deal,” You nodded in agreement before he pulled you into a hungry kiss.
“DUDE!!” You snapped back before his lips were on yours for more than a millisecond. “Are you nuts?! Sonny’s gonna be here any second!”
“It’s my birthday, carino,” He made a pouty face. “Don’t yell at me,”
“Oh lord,” You rolled your eyes. “Alright, man child,”
He was about to go for another sneaky kiss when you both heard a voice from behind you.
“....Sunshine?”
“Oh!” You jumped ten feet away from Rafael when you turned to see Sonny standing there with a huge gift bag, staring slack jawed at the two of you. “Sonny! I um, we--”
“I was teaching your cousin a lesson in New York safety,” Rafael talked over you, his face completely stone. God he was a good liar.
“Excuse me, counselor?” Sonny raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of you. You just stared in speechlessness.
“She was standing on this curb holding her bag out for any miscreant on these streets to just wrestle away from her, I was just demonstrating how,” He gestured to your open purse.
“Barba I really think this ain’t that kinda neighborhood,” Sonny half laughed.
“...You never know,” Rafael shrugged. “Now let’s all get inside, I’m sure everyone is anxious to start celebrating me,”
You and Sonny both rolled your eyes with smiles; too similar of smiles, you noticed. Thankfully, he did not. You both followed Rafael back to a private room where a bunch of fancy dressed people were mingling with drinks in their hands while two long empty tables stood in the middle of the room. They all stopped and clapped when Rafael walked in.
“Oh, for me?” He feigned surprise and humility.
“Yeah right Barba,” A woman laughed sarcastically. “You’re the one who invited us here,”
“Touche, Rita,” Rafael smirked as he began making the rounds around the table greeting everyone.
“So are we allowed to eat now, I’m starving,” An older man asked.
“And I’ve got a son waiting,” A red headed woman chimed in.
“Right, right,” Rafael nodded as people began to take seats. “Sorry everyone, you know I love to make a dramatic entrance,”
“Oh trust me we know, Barba,” Another man called. “Your catwalks into the courtroom prove that. I think we have a montage of them,”
“Ha Ha,” Rafael rolled his eyes, then turned to you and Sonny.
“Sonny,” He put a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you sit next to me?”
“R-Really, counselor?” You saw Sonny’s eyes light up like Christmas tree lights.
Fuck. You knew he was only asking him so that you would sit next to him as well. And while you loved the idea, you knew how much this was toying with Sonny’s feelings.
“A-Are you sure, about that Mr. Barba?” You gave him a look.
“Absolutely, Miss-- I didn’t catch your name?” He played it so cool.
“Y/N,” You held out your hand as you re-introduced yourself.
“Right, well--” He shook your hand then turned his attention to Sonny who was still beaming like a kid on Christmas. “I don’t know how much Carisi has told you, but he is quite the promising mentee of mine,”
“....R-Really, Rafael?” Sonny blinked in disbelief, causing Rafael’s smile to falter for a moment. Sonny had never called him “Rafael” before, it was always “Barba”. Shit, maybe he had given him too much praise.
“I mean, you know, for a lap dog,” He quickly added with a snarky tone and a smirk.
“Mr. Barba!” You tried not to raise your voice at the birthday boy. “That is my cousin you’re talking ab---”
“No, no it’s fine Y/N-- th-that’s how we work isn’t it, counselor? He just gives me jabs, I know he doesn’t mean it,” Sonny laughed nervously, staring at the floor. He knew not to get too comfortable with Barba, why did he even try it?
“Indeed,” Rafael nodded in agreement. “But, I still request you sit by me-- at least I know you don't poison my food. Which is more than I can say for many of my esteemed ‘guests’,” He eyed the tables of people before him.
“Then why invite them to your party?” You quirked an eyebrow.
“I get that Jersey doesn’t have the social classes of Manhattan, Miss Y/N,” He smirked. “But here, you’ve got to do things to keep up appearances,”
“Oh do you?” You practically growled.
“Yes,” He nodded while a waiter brought him a glass of scotch. “Even if you don’t like someone, if they serve a purpose for you than you do what you must to keep in their good graces,”
“Oh is that so? So you’re only kind to people who can ‘serve’ you?” You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes at him.
What kind of Danny Zuko bullshit was this?! This was an entirely different Rafael Barba you had met the other night. He was kind, flirty, endearing. This new Barba was snarky and condescending, and you were not amused at all.
“Y/N, chill,” Sonny hissed at you. “This is just how Barba is, he’s harmless,”
“Yeah well you might not mind being his doormat Sonny, but I sure as hell won’t be,” You angrily stomped off.
“Oh my god,” Sonny muttered, wondering if he should run after you or not. “Barba, I am so so sorry about her,”
“It’s fine, Carisi,” He watched you stomping away, trying to hide the guilt in his voice. He was just trying his best to throw Sonny off the trail. He may have overcompensated just a tad.
“I-I should go check on her, She’s just a kid--”
“No, allow me,” Rafael put a hand to Sonny’s chest. “It was my faux paux, I should apologize to her myself. I was being a bit of an ass,”
“Yeah but that’s just you, Barba,” Sonny chuckled, trying not to blush at Rafael’s hand on his chest.
“True, but I forget not everyone knows me as well as you do, Carisi,” And now he was trying to be extra nice to Sonny to get on his good side, while cluelessly egging on his feelings.
“That is very true,” Sonny laughed even more nervously. “I’ll uh, I’ll take a seat and get our drinks ordered,”
“Excellent,” Rafael smiled at him, probably one of five times in the entire time they’d known each other. He gave Sonny one more pat on the back before walking after where you had stomped off to.
He found you right before you hit the front door, his hand catching yours before it could grab the handle. You turned and scoffed at him, your scowl still present after stomping off.
“Oh, come to appease me, counselor? How can I be of service to you?” You snapped.
“Please, Y/N,” He gave you apologetic eyes as he pulled you closer to him. “I’m sorry, I just-- I didn’t want Carisi to think anything was off. He already caught us being handsy, I had to make it look like we disliked each other,” He explained.
“Oh I think you’ve done that above and beyond, jackass,” You huffed. “First I’m too stupid to not get robbed in the city, and then I’m too uncultured to understand ‘high society’ manipulative bullshit?”
“I’m sorry, I may have gone a little over--” He started.
“But that wasn’t even an act, was it?” You interjected angrily.
“What do you mean?” He asked you curiously.
“Your line of you having ‘use’ of a person? I assume that is why you have a room full of powerful people you dislike as opposed to a room full of sycophants?” Yeah, you might just go to community college but you knew big words too.
“I mean, that is how it works--”
“Jesus Christ,” You shook your head with a laugh. “You know I understood for about half a second why my cousin is so infatuated by you, but I am losing that belief real quick,” You turned and started to walk away again.
“Y/N come on,” He grabbed both of your arms this time and pulled you close into him, your noses almost touching.
“Look I’m-- I’m sorry, that I’m---this,” He gestured to himself.
“But that’s just how I have to be in their world,” He gestured back towards the room. “I’m telling you, it’s a room full of sharks. If I show weakness or misstep in decorum, I’m nothing but chum to those people,”
“The guy you met the other night, that’s the real me,” He put a hand to your cheek. “I never get to be that guy, not in public. That’s why I was so attracted to you,” He put his other hand on your waist.
“I don’t have to be ‘Rafael Barba, the snarky ADA with a silver tongue,’ I can just be…’Rafa’,” He gave you an earnestly sad smile.
“I’m sorry,” You blinked in confusion. “I know I’m not helping myself but what exactly is the ‘ADA’?”
Your question brought that familiar amused grin and a laugh. “See, this is what I’m talking about,”
“Oh yeah I know, the ignorant girl you can placate--”
“No,” He put a finger on your lips. “The earnest, normal, gorgeous girl,” He kissed your forehead. “I’m sure if we took a poll in here right now the majority of the room would be with you, not knowing what an ADA is,”
“Which still doesn’t answer the question,” You pointed out.
“I…” He tried to think of a way to explain his role in the Manhattan judicial system. “Well, the DA of the county is like-- the King of Lawyers in that section. Or queen, as my boss is Rita,” He shook his head with a laugh. Oh Rita Calhoun, the stories he could tell about her.
“So, you’re her king?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Eh, I’d say Prince but she’d probably say Jester if she heard this metaphor to be honest with you,”
“Mmm I like that,” You finally let yourself smile at him.
“A Prince?” He grinned.
“The Jester,” You gave him a tongued smile, settling against his chest.
“Well, I’ll gladly take that title if it makes you happy,” He kissed your forehead. “I’d do anything to make you happy right now,”
You looked into his green eyes, they were now their usual sparkling green hue, and you remembered very quickly how you had gotten yourself in this mess in the first place. He really was a sweet, charming, gorgeous guy. And then you remembered those were probably all the reasons Sonny fell for him too.
“Ahem.” You straightened up and stepped out of his grasp. “Well, what would make me happy right now is getting back to my cousin,”
“Oh,” Rafael’s eyes softened into a sad gaze.
“Rafael, I think he really likes you,” You bit your lip with guilt. “And you toying with him just now isn’t helping!”
“Toying with him?” Rafael’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion? “I wasn’t toying with--”
“Sit by me, Carisi? You’re important to me, Carisi?” You imitated his questions in a mocking tone.
“I had to ask him that so you would--” He started to explain, but you already knew.
“I know!” You stopped him. “I know, that’s why it’s so fucked!” You put your hands over your face.
“Carino…” Rafael walked over and pulled your hands from your face and held them.
“I’m hurting him every second that I stand here with you, and I--” You bit your lip trying not to cry. “I’m still doing it! I can’t walk away!”
“So don’t,” He squeezed your hands with an even sadder look.
“This is just--” You broke free from his grasp once again and wiped your eyelids. “We need to get back before Sonny comes after you,”
“....So where does this conversation leave us, then?” He asked you cautiously.
“I don’t…” You gazed into his puppy dog emerald eyes. “I don’t know, I don’t want to think about it right now, okay?”
“Fair enough,” He put his hands down in concession. “...But we really need to--”
“Yeah, I know,” You nodded softly as you walked back to the private room, Rafael trailing behind you.
All you could think on the way back was how in God’s name were you going to make it through the rest of the night.
#rafael barba#rafael barba x you#rafael barba x reader#rafael barba fanfiction#rafael barba imagine'#sonny carisi#law and order svu#weird secret friends
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#vw#volkswagen#up!#vw up#stance#up vr6#vr6#up gti#slammed#euro#eudm#germanlook#gotti wheels#gotti#vr6 swap#swap#raceism
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I Finally finished my wheels made from two sets of extremely rare Gotti rally car wheels. Bmw 2002 centers with shaved spokes and Porsche 911 rims making a 14x8
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1985 Renault R5 Turbo 2 with Mazda 13B Two-Rotor and Turbonetics turbo. Life Racing F88RS ECS, Renault 5spd manual with modified bell housing. 15in Gotti alloy wheels, cross-drilled brake rotors. [ https://imgur.com/VhW3acZ ]
#AwesomeCarMods#Awesome CarMods#Awesome Car Mods#car mods#1985 Renault R5 Turbo 2 with Mazda 13B Two
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@wcstlcys | liv + west
The look on her face said it all. Olivia had been walking through the arid streets of the town for hours, flashing the tattered photo to anyone who would pause long enough to glance down and listen to her questions, but the result was always the same: narrowed eyes and a quick escape. It had been a stroke almost desperation, a hope that perhaps this town’s cops, too, would have information on her father. What she hadn’t expected was the open hostility the patrolling officer held when she handed the picture over for him to inspect. “Excuse me?” Liv had to ask again, had to make sure she heard the words correctly. “I think you must have me confused-”
Her words were cut short when the middle aged cop shoved the picture into the brunette’s chest. “I ain’t got nothing confused, Missy,” his tone was gruff, final as he continued. “You think you can flash a picture of Tank Gotti in my face and distract me? You must be dumber than the rest of of ‘em.” He gave a gravel filled laugh. “That bastard hasn’t crossed my mind in years. Piece of shit doesn’t deserve it.” Liv’s mouth was slack, hanging open as he pushed past her. The shock alone made her take a pause, but the second was brief before she was wheeling about, finger raised in warning of rage climbing up the back of her throat. “Hey! Listen, you fat, wobbling, pig-” but, once again, her words had to pause, for her self preservation skills saw the shadow of movement coming in from the side. She only just had time to step back before it was too late.
#liv ; interactions#i don't even have tags for her yet yikes#liv ; west#lmk if I need to change anything#ilysm
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TARGA RAT
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