#i will read the rest of 10+ chapters later ig | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

quokkacore · 4 years ago

Text

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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hongnanglen-arina · 4 years ago

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The Ulzzang Project - Part 2 | Jeon Wonwoo

Read part 1 Read part 3

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Genre:

Fluff, crack (maybe explicit content in the next chapters)

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x female reader

Warnings: none, just a smirk here and there ;)

Words: 2.7k

A/N: Hello there! Here’s part 2 and I just wanted to thank everyone who had liked my work so far :3 I’d be more than happy to know your thoughts about this part too hehe. Oh and it’s not over yet so watch out for a part 3 somewhen in the next days/weeks. As always, excuse my grammar - also because I didn’t re-read this part ugh.... ♡

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After uni, you went back home to get rid of your notebook and papers. Finally your backpack wasn't heavy anymore and you could fill it with stuff you would need later. A soft knock on your door interrupted you, it was your mother. "Do you want to try some of the avocado salad that i made? It's really good you know?" Smiling, your eyes wandered around your room. "I'll join you after I'm done here, mom. Maybe in 10 minutes." She left your door with a happy 'okay', leaving you alone again.

On your way back home, you thought about what to prepare for later. On your list were cute clothes and nail polish. First you wanted to bring some makeup as well but when you remembered that you wouldn't reveal much of your face anyways so there was no use. Nail polish could deliver a more sophisticated vibe? Elegant? .... sexy? You had different possibilities for photos in your head. Like wrapping your arms around your best friend or covering his eyes with your hands. Your dark red nail polish could be a great addition to it. There were a lot of cute clothes in your wardrobe. You didn't want to bring everything with you since you would need different pieces for the next days and photos but there was also a chance to take more photos in advance so you could relax in between - or plan more if it fails.

On your way out of the room, you saw a bunch of pastel hair clips and ties that you quickly threw inside your bag.

Walking over to your mother, you sat down across her and looked at your plate in awe. "Wow mom! You should definitely open a youtube channel or write a book with your recipes.. or make an instagram account with your food! It looks amazing!" Your mother giggled at your comment. But you meant it. The way your mother placed the salad on the plate and decorated it with little tomatoes to make it more colorful, you didn't want to destroy it with your fork. And the way the avocado was cut and twisted like a rose on top of the mixed salad. "Is it as good at it seems?" Your question caused your mother to pout slightly. "Of course! If not, even better! You will see!"

And it really was. Not that it was a big surprise to you. Your mother was a great cook, a great baker, a great improviser. Just an all rounder and you often asked yourself what you had inherited because besides making simple dishes, you failed at all the other things your mother could do without breaking a sweat.

„Do you have plans today?"

"Yup!" You answered while chewing.

"Are you going to sleep at Wonwoo's place again?"

"Yup!"

"Ah, you guys seem very close. I love it!"

"We have some kind of project going on so we have to spend more time together."

"If that's even possible. When are you going to move in with him?"

You choked on a slice of avocado. "What?!"

"I mean you can be honest with me, dear. You know I would be overly happy if you guys end up together. Oh my god that would be perfect!"

"Mom, stop dreaming. He's my bestie. I'm his bestie. I laughed at him when in kindergarten a girl punched out his canine and he laughed at me when I puked all over our high school teacher. I could never ever date someone who knows that much embarrassing stories about me. Never!"

Your mother looked at you with more determination in her eyes. "But don't those memories make it even better? Being old and grumpy and laughing about stories like that? Or looking at photos and remembering the good old times?" She clapped her hands excitedly but you just rolled your eyes. Your parents would try to get you two together until the very end it seemed.

Awaiting a response from you, you felt the familiar tension rising up and this was the perfect time to leave before the discussion about you dating her best friend's son would continue forever, resulting in you being too late at Wonwoo's place.

Ignoring your mother's complains and whines, you quickly finished your dish and ran to the door, sliding into your converse before leaving the apartment with a 'see you tomorrow, mom. I love you'.

Wonwoo's apartment wasn't too far away. Just 3 stops away that you two often walked the short distance whenever the weather was good or you weren't in a hurry. Right in the middle of the way was a little park where you sometimes meet up in the middle of the night to talk about things that bothered you or just to get ice cream. But if the weather was too bad, a phone call would do instead.

Sometimes you were wondering what would be different if Wonwoo and you had feelings for each other. If you two would be attracted to each other. Would your friendship change that much or would it stay the same? Just with the additional couple stuff?

After picking up some burritos from your favorite restaurant, you entered Wonwoo's apartment complex and not long after, you were ringing his doorbell. As if he had been waiting for you, the door opened almost immediately.

"Yo! I got us food! You hungry?"

"You know me too well."

He waved you inside and half an hour later, you two were laying on the couch, your head resting on his lap while his long fingers played with your hair, music playing in the background.

"So, I guess the food wasn't what you meant with urgent, right?"

You looked up at him with a sour face, causing him to chuckle. "Okay okay miss, please don't bury my body in a moldy backyard with your gaze. So.. you want more photos?"

"Yes."

"Do you know what kind of photos you want?"

"Yes."

"Do we need a lot?"

"Yes."

"Will this take a long time so you are going to sleep here?"

"Yes."

"Everything's telling me that you missed me."

"Ye- what? Oh wait..." You propped yourself up, facing him. "Where were you when I sent the text?"

"Mh? I was with Dokyeom and Chan. Chan had troubles with the kids from that other school again so Dokyeom wanted to help. Actually a good plan if you ask me but they ended up being bullied together... so your man had to help."

"My man? Tsk, you wish."

"Is hero better?"

"Worse."

Wonwoo pushed his bottom lip out, giving you a puppy look. "Oh Wonwoo, please stop."

"Tell me I did good and I will."

"Disgusting!"

Turning around so he was now facing your back, he moved closer to you, grabbing and shaking your shoulders in an attempt to convince you. “Pretty please?? Come on, y/n."

You sighted loudly. "Man... alright. You helped our friends so of course you did good."

He cocked his head a bit and stopped the shaking, thinking about your words before nodding satisfied. He knew you well enough to get what he wanted.

Readjusting himself, he leaned back, arms extended over the backrest in both directions. "So is the little lady now up for the sexy photos?" His cocky way to look and talk to you made you gag. You hit his chest and pointed at him. "I told you, I won't do that with you. I wanted to take cute photos so I brought a bunch of clothes and stuff!"

Wonwoo gave your backpack a curious look. "A bunch of clothes... you're staying the night.. where is your stuff for uni then?"

His question was followed by silence. You really forgot that you had to go to uni again. All the thoughts about your new Instagram page made you forget the important stuff you need for a living. How could you forget?! Now you have to get up earlier tomorrow so you can get your stuff from home. You are so stupid!

"You are so stupid!" Wonwoo spoke your thoughts out loud and facepalmed you softly with a chuckle. You just sighted with a defeated expression. „You know, you are really smart y/n but only when you want to. And that doesn’t happen often. Bestie speaking.“ Your nose scrunched with a scoff. You were more than thankful to have such a good friend like Wonwoo but you often felt the urge to hit him with an iron bat for his honesty.

But before you would dwell in self-pity or would smash something real hard against his head - because he knew that expression on your face - Wonwoo stood up and got your bag, changing the topic. "Let's start with the photos then before you get sleepy."

—

4 hours later, you two had enough. What started off with easy-going selfies with laughter and bickering, quickly turned into a competition between the two of you. Of course you took the much needed photos for your Instagram page but in between you halfway forgot about it and having a better selfie than Wonwoo was suddenly all that counted. The goal was to get the other to surrender, which wasn’t easy. Neither of you wanted to lose and because you had known each other for over a decade, you knew almost all sides of the other. There was nothing that could shock you or surprise you. That’s what you thought.

Because somewhere after 10 pm, Wonwoo suddenly announced his plan to take a shower and you thought nothing was wrong with that. Little did you know, that he was going to take photos there. So while you were comfortable on the couch with a bowl of snacks in your lap, you scrolled through the new bunch of photos. You even created several folders. ’IG me’, ‘IG Wonu’, ‘IG cute’ and ‘IG others’. Today was all about being cute although there were quite a few times when neither Wonwoo or you liked the others ideas. For example, you wanted to take a photo of Wonwoo fixing your shoe laces because you had seen a lot of other people doing that but he thought it was a stupid idea to do it at home. It would look fake, he said. And you had agreed. You made a mental note to take this photo the next time you were outside. Or Wonwoo suggested that he could place his hand on your bare thigh and take a photo just because he wanted to ‘spice it up a little’. You made him stop with an extra hard punch on his arm though. You weren’t able to count how often you had to remind him that you only wanted cute and innocent photos.

Trying to choose one for today’s evening post, you smiled at the photos of him struggling to make you a fishtail braid. He had studied several videos of tutorials and even worked on your hair while a video was playing but he failed so hard that you took nearly 100 photos of it. Thanks to the nearby mirror, you were able to take them without revealing too much of your identity.

You heard how the bathroom door unlocked and saw Wonwoo leave it seconds after, dressed in dark pajama pants and a plain white t-shirt, with one hand rubbing a towel through his hair, with the other typing on his phone. ‘What an all-rounder’, you snorted under your breath, thinking to yourself that he must be the only man who could multi-talk even though this ability ended with a third task but for a man it was still impressive. When he joined you on the couch, you quickly made some space so he won’t sit down on your face, also offering him a snack which you put in his mouth as he opened up.

“Refresh the app, y/n.”

With curious eyes, you did what you were told and the moment you saw what he meant, you stopped yourself gasping halfway.

“W-what the??” Your arms covered your eyes almost instinctively.

"I mean, cute photos always get good feedback. But if you want to have a boost in likes and followers, this is the way to go."

“B-but you should have discussed it with me beforehand!” You whined while peeking through your fingers to glare at him from the side.

“Oh really?” His voice was teasingly innocent which made the situation less stressful for you.

What was open on your phone screen was a photo of your best friend, his bare chest wet with water and a suggestive smirk on his lips. You couldn’t see above his mouth nor much below his navel but it was enough to cause your cheeks to heat up furiously. You knew he was handsome, you have always known, but right now was a little different. To see him taking advantage of it like this made you speechless. You didn’t dare to stare for too long, you felt the eyes of the person beside you on yourself.

“So what do you say?”

“…….. let’s go to bed!”

Wonwoo’s eyes got slightly bigger in surprise but then there was a smirk on his lips. “So that’s the way you roll, baby? Okay, let’s have some fun then.”

You almost spit out the cheese ball that was in your mouth. “What the hell?? Jeon Wonwoo, I’m sleepy! I want to sleep!! And stop babying me or you won’t be able to go to uni tomorrow!!”

“Is that so? What are you planning on doing to me huh?”

Getting up, you stomped off to the bathroom. “You’re extremely annoying, you know that?”

He just chuckled at your reaction and followed you to get ready for bed. “I love you too, y/n.”

—

The next day at uni was like any other day, except you were than sleepy and annoyed because smart y/n had to get her stuff from home. When you sat outside from uni with your friends, Wonwoo was across the bench you were sitting beside Hoshi, currently listening to him ramble about visiting the zoo and greeting his tiger family when a group of girls squealed all of a sudden.

You all looked in the direction of the source and Seungkwan sighed. “Yoon Jeonghan, who else.”

“Yoon who?”

“The most handsome guy on campus according to the uni magazine,” Hoshi added and you cocked your head, seeing him from afar. He had silky hair and a sharp jawline. He was attractive but you wouldn’t call him the most handsome guy.

"I don't think he's sooo handsome though. Wonwoo is way better.” You said after a while, finishing the teriyaki wrap you were holding in your hand.

A piece of grilled sausage fell from Wonwoo's chopsticks but he quickly took it in between again and continued eating so no one knew. Getting compliments from you wasn't something new to him but lately it felt a little different but he couldn't wrap a finger around it what it really was.

"Oh just open his Instagram. You can thank me later."

You shook your head no and took a sip of your water. “No thanks. Not interested.”

“But it’s funny. Once he kind of fought off a group of admires when a girl fell and twisted her ankle. She had to wear a cast for half a year but she was happy because it was Yoon Jeonghan. Crazy, isn't it?"

"You're ridiculous.” Once again, you turned around to look at the allegedly most wanted man from campus who disappeared in the building including his fans.

"Everyone on campus knows that story and a lot more. How you missed out on important facts like this is a mystery, really. Where do you live? Behind the moon?”

Shrugging your shoulders at the comment, you unlocked your phone, trying to show your friends how uninteresting that Yoon Jeonghan was to you but secretly you looked up his Instagram. Well, not bad. He knew how to pose. And was his skin really that pale and clear? Must be a filter. You were 100 % sure. Absentmindedly you scrolled through it but when you had enough, you went to your shared account with Wonwoo. ‘Oh a new post!’ Quickly making sure that Hoshi wasn’t looking, you opened the post and nearly dropped the phone when you saw the text Wonwoo had added. The photo was uploaded 2 minutes ago. A photo from yesterday when he was playing with your hair after you two had dinner. You didn’t know he took a photo. Your eyes were glued on the short text.

I’m in love with her.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #caratwritersclub #Seventeen #seventeen au #seventeen imagines #svt #seventeen fluff #seventeen ff #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #svt wonwoo #seventeen wonwoo #kpop ff #kpop fanfic #kpop #carat #17

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sofwrites · 3 years ago

Note

'tis the damned swiftie anon

Hi Sofiya, I hope you've been doing well and that you aced the exam. Life got in the way since my last ask and that's why I never replied, but things are settling down and I finally get to roam this space again to tell you how much I love your writing. Now that the fic is over, I bring you my favourite bits of it, sponsored by me reading each chapter and then whole thing twice. I'll probably revisit later on. For now:

Gregory: "my favorite sibling tbh" I stan onw traitorous bitch

Benedict: "you'll catch up soon enough" like six years to realise it and eight to act on it, but sure

Colin grovelling after his screw-up and Penelope rightfully ignoring him

The email asking to meet up to clear the air, desperate much?

Penelope: "you can mark me off your to do list now" not gonna lie, the petty part of me wanted her to send it

"Colin son", that's an universal mom thing if i ever read one

The direct Taylor mention, obvs, it must be highlighted

"alright before you text me happy birthday, can I ask you something?" I love it when they're cheeky

"because I can't stop thinking about it for some reason" hmm. I wonder what could be it

The Lizzie McGuire reference. Genius of you to use it as a ig caption

"so no text tonight I guess?" when I tell you this one actually hurt

"shit bugger ass bitch" top notch appropriate reacion

Colin desperately wanting to know if the kiss also meant something for her

"what (the hell) are we doing, Pen?" x2. I love that he thought about asking her in chapter 4 and finally went for it in chapter 5. Also yes, what the hell are they doing?

The ig handles and contact names all around, but for me stand out Violet (so cute) and Kate (hilarious)

"- I meeeeeean. how long would you really be able to last without doing ANYTHING? - Longer than a day I'm sure (11 years actually). So sad yet so funny

"I think only small groups can work rn. like a pair", so clever of you, Colin

"Italy. easy" 🥺

I'm Penelope when giving compliments and Colin when receiving them

"Let me guess, you need to drive over and say hi to Benedict's rock collection" I laughed out loud

Belinda texting him 🥰

"- what would you like to eat out? -you" Colin, you slut

"- just think about it - you think about it first" okay children, settle down please

The book grab emoji. I didn't know that was a thing. I've been forever corrupted

"- no, Anthony agrees with me. - Anthony always agrees with you" I laughed out loud again

Ok, the moment we've all been waiting for, the Taylor reference. You said in the tags that it's from a bonus track on 1989, and I think it has to be "You Are In Love" because it's so romantic. My bet for the specific reference would be "ONE NIGHT. WE WAKES. STRANGE LOOK. ON HIS FACE. PAUSES. THEN SAYS. YOU'RE MY. BEST FRIEND. AND YOU KNEW. WHAT IT WAS. HE IS. IN LOVE" did I get it right?

"...what? no what." the appropriate reaction when finding out your crush likes you back. And then him spiralling down a rabbit hole of WAIT NO I LOVE YOU TOO

"like Italy, you mean?" well well well, Penelope, if it isn't the consequences of your own actions

"There was something on his face she'd never seen before- never even imagined she would ever see- fear. Cold, honest fear". I already was lying on a puddle of my own tears, what else did you want from me?!

The reaction of the rest, with a highlighted mention for "make me some grandchildren!!"

Reading it was a wild and amazing ride, thank you again for sharing your talent with us 💕. I'll end the ask here cause this thing is already way too long

K I sat on this anon because I literally sat there looking at my computer like 🥰🥰🥰 for like 10 minutes straight even though I was in the middle of studying for another exam

Anyway, hello, anon. I am doing well and I hope the very best for you as well!! I completely understand you not replying and never expect anything, but I was thrilled to receive this one<333 I cannot imagine reading this fic twice (let alone once because I've been too scared to do so myself), but all the 🥺🥺🥺to you because you're making my heart warm

"I stan one traitorous bitch" it's me. I'm the traitorous bitch tbh. I won't admit it to anyone else but I'll admit it to you 😌💖

sjdfksknj the entire incident feels like so long ago for me and I cannot believe I wrote that email from colin and really had him still denying his feelings for penelope. stupid, stupid boy

10000% of the violet interactions are inspired by my own lovely moter. My brother is "(Name) Son" in her phone and my mom always calls me "Sofi" in texts even though she never calls me that in person

the first taylor mention. the inspiration for your first anon. the accidental start of something very important for me 💗ty miss queen taylor

I really said Polin's gonna SIMP and went for it

!!!!!!! YOU NOTICING THE "What the hell are we doing, Pen?" !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Very lovely for me

"I'm Penelope when giving compliments and Colin when receiving them" we love a self-reflecting queen 😌(I am too 100% tho)

I have an unhealthy obsession with Benedict's rock collection it's something that is very important to me

"- what would you like to eat out? -you" Colin, you slut

"- just think about it - you think about it first" okay children, settle down please

WHEN I TELL YOU THIS KILLED ME. I couldn't even remember what the second one was referencing and when I went back to look it up I was like "!!! 💀💀💀" THEY REALLY ARE CHILDREN

boob grab emoji discourse actually was birthed from an interaction I had with Leah (beta, perfect human) where I said it looked like someone grabbing boobs and she was scarred forever 🤗

YES SO "YOU ARE IN LOVE" IS IN MY TOP 5 TS SONGS (if you wanna drop your top five I would love that but mine is in no order: paper rings, you are in love, story of us, new years day, and long story short). Anyways, yes, lovely anon of mine. You were right on the money.

"well well well, Penelope, if it isn't the consequences of your own actions" wsndfjnsdjkfndkj this was so funny

the fact that I really wrote "Cold, honest fear." 💀💀💀ok dramatic

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Just wanna say for the 36th time that you are lovely and that these have been such a treat for me to get in my inbox. And sometimes I wonder who you are, but whoever you are, I hope you just have the lovliest day and night and life in general. I'm very glad things are settling down for you and I just hope you get to be happy all the damn time. And if you ever want me to write anything for you specifically (like your favorite TS song or literally anything), I would adore to do so 🥰💖

#taylor swift anon #tis the damn season anon #🥺🥺🥺 also I love that song sm #and I love you #to the moon and to saturn #I still can't believe anyone wants to just talk to me on anon it blows me mind #ah wensjdfkndskjfnewkdefnewd #idk i have a lot of feelings #digital age #my fics

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angrymongol01-archived · 4 years ago

Text

A/N: Am reposting two of my shelved discontinued fem!Hinata fics from my old blog here (for exposure ig? Also I didn't delete them completely there, they're just posted privately lol); for those who've read the original post before and wondering why this blog repost another blog's work, supplies~!! OP here, filling this blog with some Haikyuu content from last October. Enjoy ^^;; ALSO DO NOT SEND HATE ORZ smh

My Masterlist

Prologue | 01 | Omake 01

tho it doesn't looked like an extra chapter at all smh ahaha

Omake 01

wc: 1.9k words

warning: mentions of thigh touching (and probs kidnapping but not implied), a bit of OOC-ness, a few ‘damn’ mentions.

note: indented paragraphs -> flashbacks

*NOTE: since purple/violet is unavailable via PC (using desktop beta lol), I'll use yellow for Ushijima instead.

“…ta…nata…Hinata!”

A female’s voice continued calling her from her deep slumber.

The faint smell of ammonia wafted in the air.

Eyelids slowly opened as she regained consciousness.

“Ah, thank goodness you’re awake now, Hina-chan!”

“Yachi-san?” She groggily glanced at her friend.

“I’ll tell the others she’s awake!” Suddenly, the owner of that voice earlier, Date Tech’s manager, Nametsu Mai, stood up and headed outside the door. Yachi nodded her thanks.

“W-what happened… Where am I? Is this not our—the managers’—room?” she asked.

Hinata started to sit up from where she was laying but wobbled.

Luckily, Yachi and their second-year senpai Kinoshita Hisashi helped her out and gently positioned their fellow member on one corner of the classroom-slash-makeshift sleeping area.

Her senpai sheepishly replied to Hinata, “This is Date Tech’s sleeping quarters. We were having our first practice match of the day, against them, when Sugawara-san called to inform that they’ve found you together with Shiratorizawa, and their captain carried you on—“

The decoy shivered, thinking about the restroom incident hours ago.

“—and fainted on Ushijima’s shoulder. Ma~n, Suga-san’s so furious back then Kageyama had to stop him from killing them.” Kinoshita chuckled.

“Your room’s kinda far away from where they found you, so the managers decided to drop you off here since it’s the nearest one.”

Hinata sweatdropped, a bit embarrassed.

“Ah… thank you, and sorry for whatever inconvenience I have caused earlier…”

Yachi shook her head. “No, no, it’s fine! You’ve done nothing wrong, Hina-chan~,” she grinned at the orange-haired girl.

Smiled back also.

Then she suddenly facepalmed. “I forgot about the practice match! Is it still going yet?”

“It finished an hour ago, we lost—2-1,” a scowling Kageyama answered, trudging towards the three.

“K-k-kageyama…!!!” the female middle blocker blanched with fear, hands gripping the blanket draped on her lap, while the raven-haired setter shot a menacing glare at her, which she averted. “I’m… I’m sorry for—“

“Are you alright?” he quietly asked Hinata, his hand perched on her head.

His deep blue eyes swimming with concern and worry.

She felt a slight flush on her cheeks while meeting his gaze.

“H-hai, I’m fine!” the chibi assured Kageyama. “Nothing to worry about, Bakayama-kun~!”

And she smiled at him.

The boy suddenly became hot and turned to look away from her, hiding his flustered face with the back of his hand.

“H-hinata boke… idiot,” Kageyama stuttered, his heart thumping louder than normal.

Ahh… he sure is whipped for Hinata, that Kageyama boy, Kinoshita thought, shaking his head.

While their blonde manager only giggled.

Recovering from his blushing mess a while ago, the raven-haired setter took a deep breath, narrowed his eyes at Hinata and quipped.

“But I guess you do know that we lost in the match earlier because of your carelessness around your surroundings, right, dumbass?”

He smirked.

This pissed the female decoy and threw in some punches at Kageyama, which he constantly dodged. “Shut up, you!! I said I’m sorry, alright?!”

“No, you did not!”

“Yes, I did, Bakayama!”

There goes their ‘lovers’ quarrel’ again… hahaha…

“Hinata!” Sugawara’s sweet voice boomed inside the room as he entered together with their team’s captain Sawamura Daichi. Beside them tagged along Hinata’s friend from Date Tech, fellow middle blocker Aone Takanobu.

“Ah, Sugawara-san!” The first-year idiot duo stopped their bickering when the gray-haired setter all of a sudden hugged her.

Hc’d Suga and Hinata are chummy-chummy but in a mother/daughter sort of way.

He is, after all, Karasuno’s Sugamama.

“Honey, are you alright now? Did those Shiratorizawa bastards hurt you? Don’t lie to me!” She blinked in reply, baffled.

He might cry in an instant now—

“Oi, Suga, calm down,” Daichi said, drawing circles at the fellow third-year’s back to calm him down.

Aone then stepped closer besides Hinata and sat with his legs crossed, his eyes gazing at hers like Kageyama’s.

“Are you okay?” he asked her, his deep voice nearly startled both Hinata, Yachi and Kinoshita.

Date Tech’s one-third of the famous Iron Wall is a man of few words, and his replies were mostly grunts, hand gestures, and nods.

So it’s rare for him to speak, or ask a question, especially to a member of the opposite sex—or, in this case, at Karasuno’s Number 10. At Hinata Shouyou.

She held both hands at Aone’s now flustered cheeks, and grinned.

“I’m okay now, Aone-san! Don’t worry too much~ nn?” She tilted her head while looking at him.

C-cute… she’s cute, No-Eyebrows thought to himself. Even the other boys thought so, too.

Then he nodded.

Hinata patted his shoulders. “Good!”

Ahhh the power of friendship, feat. AoHina—

“Say, Hina-chan,” Yachi looked at the orange-haired girl. “Care to say to us why you fainted on Ushijima-san’s shoulder?”

The chibi stilled herself, cheeks starting to get a bit red. Kageyama noticed it.

“A-a-ano!! H-hinata-chan, it’s o-okay if you d-don’t have to tell us! S-sorry for asking such a foolish q-question—“

“Yachi-san, calm yourself down, too—,” the captain sweatdropped.

Looking at the people around her, Hinata slowly opened her mouth to speak.

“My thighs are kind of ticklish when being touched,” she muttered, face in an embarrassed state.

“Ha?” “Ticklish?”

“He—Ushijima-san touched the back of my thighs, but just to keep myself from falling down his shoulder!” the female middle blocker said aloud, pouting. “That’s why I… f-fainted earlier.”

Her partner remembered the face she made while being carried on Ushijima Wakatoshi’s shoulder.

“USHIJIMA-SA—hyaah! …P-please… stop—“

A vein pop ticked on the raven-haired setter’s face, his jawline twitching slightly.

Kageyama’s fists gripped hard, his face a big scowling mess.

Damn that Ushiwaka guy—

Another dark aura emitted on another corner as vein pops ticked on both Dadchi and Sugamama.

Wearing their scary faces.

Both Hinata, Yachi and Kinoshita panicked, while Aone furrowed his brows.

“Did you bring some shovels, Daichi?”

“They’re inside the bus compartment, Suga.”

“Good. We’re digging some graves for some perverted volleyball dorks to bury down later—wanna help us, Kageyama?”

———

Meanwhile, at Shiratorizawa’s side of the training camp, the members were at the sidelines, taking a break from practice when—

“ACHOO!!!” Tendou sniffled for the nth time already ever since coming back to the gym with Ushijima after the incident with Karasuno’s Number 10. “Uh, yizz…”

“Tendou-san, are you really alright?” their team’s first-year ace-in-the-making Goshiki Tsutomu asked, his face scrunched with worry. “You’re sneezing constantly.”

The redhead shook it off with a wave of his hand in reply, and smiled grimly.

“Yeah, I’m a-OK, thanks for your concern, Tsutomu-kun!”

“Oi, are you sick?” Shiratorizawa’s team mom third-year setter Semi Eita stared at his fellow third-year teammate with disgust. “If you are, please stay away from us! We don’t wanna get infected by your cold… Goshiki, don’t go near him!” “Eh? But, senpai—“

Tendou narrowed his eyes on him. “Semi-Semi, if I do have a cold, I will first go straight at ya and share my germs, duh!”

“DON’T CALL ME BY THAT STUPID NICKNAME, YOU IDIOT!” the team mom seethed, throwing a pack of tissues at the middle blocker in reply, hitting his arm.

A quarrel ensued at Shiratorizawa—

“Okay, guys, that’s enough! Save your bickering later at lunch period,” another third-year, Oohira Reon, chided and managed to stop both Tendou and Semi from tearing off their heads.

While the rest of the team just sighed and/or watched at a distance.

“Ano sa…”

Some of them turned their heads at the semi-deep voice of second-year starting setter Shirabu Kenjiro.

Idk how to describe voice ranges ‘cept high-pitch, deep blah blah sorry—

“Tendou-san, you mentioned earlier that you and Ushijima-san met Karasuno’s Number 10, right?”

“Aye~ we have!” the redhead then nudged Ushijima, who was sitting near him, on the side. “Right, Wakatoshi-kun?”

He nodded. “Un. We met Hinata Shouyou early this morning, outside the gym.”

“EHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! You two met that cute sunshine already upon arrival!?!!” Both their libero, Yamagata Hayato, and middle blocker, Kawanishi Taichi, squawked at their captain.

Their faces looked like (‘◉⌓◉’), with Kawanishi gripping the collar of Shirabu’s shirt, shaking wildly.

“T-taichi, stop shaking me, goddammit—!” Whack!

Said second-year middle blocker started to wail in a dramatic way.

“WHYYYYYYYYYYY—!!”

Dunno how to grasp Kawanishi’s personality here tbh so stfu dejk—

“We were about to bring her here back though…” Then Ushijima’s usual stoic face darkened a bit.

“…if only those Karasuno setters didn’t show up.”

“Ah, that Kageyama guy and their vice-captain, isn’t it? Number 2?” Shirabu pointed out. “That guy’s really scary even though he has the face of an angel; their captain also.”

Oohira asked, “Wait… so you two attempted to kidnap the girl?”

“No, no, ‘kidnapping’ will only cause us trouble,” Tendou said, waving his hand in a disapproving way.

“Let’s call it ‘luring her with some sweets then put her inside a potato sack’—“

“ARE YOU A DOWNRIGHT LOLICON!?!!” Semi screamed straight at the Guess Monster’s face, pissed at his earlier statement.

Tendou vs Semi, Round 2–

“I-I heard from Date Tech’s Koganegawa-san that Hinata-chan fainted on you, Ushijima-san,” Goshiki stammered, red tinge on both his cheeks due to embarrassment, maybe? “Is that true?”

Ushiwaka nodded curtly. “Ye—“

“EHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! SHE DID WHAAAAAAAAAAT!?!!” Both Yamagata and Kawanishi squawked again, interrupting his response.

Their faces now looked like (● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾, with Kawanishi again gripping the collar of Shirabu’s shirt, shaking wildly.

“KAWANISHIIIIII!” An uppercut.

Chaos ensued inside the Shiratorizawa Academy (High School Division) Men’s Volleyball Club.

Their captain declared to himself, his olive-colored eyes shone with determination:

We will take Hinata Shouyou here, in Shiratorizawa. She should have (come here). Whatever the consequences be.

“WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU SLACKING OFF, YOU NIMRODS!!! GET YOUR ASSES BACK TO PRACTICE!!!!”

“HAI!!!!”

———

How did the supposed-to-be ‘rumor’ begin? It all started when…

“Aaaarrrggghhh!! This is not right, Ryuu!”

“Huh? What d’you mean ‘not right’, Noya?”

“I want to sit next to our cute kouhai Shouyou on the bus earlier, but it’s always that bastard Kageyama who gets to sit beside her!! Hnnnnnngh—!!! He gets to touch Shouyou’s hair whenever she dozes off, or place her head on his shoulder to sleep on! Or-or maybe even take a candid shot of her sleeping cutely—dammit!!! This is frustrating!!!!!”

“Ahhh~ I know how you feel, bro! I, too, want to sit next to our precious Hinata-chan on the bus! B-but… Noya, what about Kiyoko-san?”

“Ryuu bro, our loyalty is always on our beautiful goddess Kiyoko-san—BUT SHE’S DIFFERENT FROM SHOUYOU! Our kouhai is literally the epitome of a living sunshine~! She cures our blues away! Remember that time during our match with Wakunan, when you were kind of down about Daichi-san’s injury then Shouyou suddenly hugged and peppered you with words of encouragement?”

“Oh, yeah! It calmed my senses down… and also! Remember when you came back from your suspension, and me and Hinata noticed bruises—“

idk I really need to refresh my HQ knowledge by rereading the whole manga orz—

“—on your arms? Ma~n, she freaked out and began applying those with some ointment she had in her bag. And you told me later that time Hinata’s hands were very soft even though she spiked and blocked so many balls in her lifetime? Also that expression on your face! So priceless!”

“Ahhhh~ I wanna touch Shouyou’s soft hands again longer! Not just a high five—but holding hands!”

“Me too~ Damn, I wish there’d be some kind of (rotational?) seating arrangement whenever we’re on the bus, traveling to matches and stuff…”

“Ryuu! Noya! Heya!”

“Tora! Our shitty (city) boy from Tokyo—wassup!”

“We can’t wait to play another game against you guys later! ww”

“Same here!”

“Ah, what are you guys talking about?”

“OUR PRECIOUS KOUHAI HINATA/SHOUYOU!!!”

“Eh? Shrimpy-chan? What about her?”

“It’s like this….—“

The two crows and mohawked cat walked their way inside the camp premises, talking.

Unbeknownst to them, two eagles accidentally eavesdropped on the earlier conversation.

DO NOT REPOST/EDIT WITHOUT PERMISSION. PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME, KIDS. LIKES ESPECIALLY REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED. ALL WORKS © angrymongol01 - 2021.

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testingcheats0n · 3 years ago

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Bran IV

Bran IV.... I 'm beginning to appreciate Bran's chapters more this time. I hated them when I read them the first time. I thought them boring and uneventful, but now that I know all the secrets that might be hidden I'm enraptured.

Old Nan was always my favorite though, I always knew that her stories were true in the folksy, spoken tradition way.

Well. Bran's carefree childhood is over, he is angry and saddened by his situation, and he's kind of talking to himself. He says "It was just a lie..." to which Old Nan responds with "Crows are all liars, I know a story about a crow."

Hold up. Several things.

1. How does she know that Bran was talking about a specific lie he dreamt of about crows? He doesn't even mention the animal, but she knew exactly what was he referring to. Did he tell her earlier? He is quite sullen in this chapter, but he might've been talkative when he woke up, so that might be an explanation. I remember jumping up from my seat when I reached that part. Like- how does she know it's about the crow?

2. "Crows are all liars" That's a weird thing to say about your primary way of communication, lady. Oh? You were making a pointed distinction between crows and ravens? I see...

3. She knows a story about a crow. Which one? A man of the Night's Watch? Some spooky stuff happened with them- but it's not only a story. Does the crow in Old Nan's untold tale have three eyes, perchance? Whatever the case Bran did shut her off and we never heard that one.

Bran is too old for stories, he tells himself, embarking on a journey that depends on observing others' tales. Ig this is the part where he rejects the call for adventure.

Bran then proceeds to insult this poor old lady. In my opinion, she is a fascinating character. She came to Winterfell as a wet-nurse to a Bran, but which Bran even she doesn't remember. In fact, she's seen so many generations of Starks that she gets them confused with this one. That's so interesting- the things she'd seen as a wet-nurse through so many Lords of Winterfell...

Whatever the case, she is old now. Her sons died, her daughters are gone, and all she has is her distant relation Hodor.

"I know a story about a boy who didn't like stories."

Get him Old Nan.

Poor, poor Rickon. If Bran has Hodor and Old Nan, then baby Rickon didn't have anyone. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if he renounced his Stark identity.

Anyway. She tells him what happened during the first Long Night. I suspect she's some kind of greenseer, possibly an escaped wildling- or maybe she was stolen by a northener and brought as a wet-nurse. She pretty much tells us all we know of the Long Night, before the Rhoynish, the Andals and the First Men (or during that time). A child of the forest or two definitely told he about this one.

She tells it like so. Men were already on the continent when the Long Winter came, a hero of that period- the Last Hero- went out to search the children of the forest. He went out with a sword and a dog.

-At this point I have to urge you all to read into Lucifer means Lightbringer's theories, where he blends different myths from different lands to form a cohesive story before the Age of Heroes-

The man who went with a sword and a dog is Jon- or at least a reincarnation of him- or maybe a long dead greenseer's vision of him that turned into legend- he is also Azor Ahai according to some.

This is my tinfoil.

Azor Ahai attempted to craft a sword that would help him win against the darkness (darkness=ice=winter, you get it)

The first time he tempered in water, and it broke. Water might be a sea serpent, and AA himself might be the Grey King who killed it, thus tempering his sword into "water", he also fought against the Stormgod (snowstorms?), and maybe the Long Night as well as the Last Hero. His blade shattered and his wolf died, while ice spiders and other creatures descended on him.

Old Nan's story got interrupted before we learned of his fate. So that's essentially 2 times where gurm had blue-balled us.

Take into account that myths change, they are rephrased, darkness turns into winter, meteorites into swords. Maybe the Grey King wasn't actually a king and that's another separate myth that joined the AA one together with the mermaid, maybe AA and the GK never existed and they were a passed down interpretation of some dreamer's future vision of the real AA. Maybe I don't know what I'm talking about.

Whatever the case. If my theory is true then there were/are 3 different reincarnations of AA, all of them tried to fight an ancient evil, and they all attempted to create swords in different ways to combat the evil. Two had to fail, one will succeed... Hopefully. So next time, someone has to kill a lion (maybe a Lannister, who knows) and a woman they love dearly (Rhaegar killing Lyanna? it doesn't necessarily make R+L=J true. Rhaegar can be wrong about one more thing too, as a treat.). I have notes on that too, but that's for later.

Tyrion comes. Smack cam, seconds before disaster, gone wrong, gone violent, might die.

Also not Theon roasting others about their names. Boy oh boy.

Blegh. Tyrion talked too much, and Robb was too angry for his own good- also the guy that's reading the book placed some well timed voice cracks as Robb talked- priceless. 100/10 content.

Also... hmmm where does Tyrion's black eye come from? Literally everyone in his family has green eyes and his parents were cousins. It's not purple- purple eyes in disguise are described as shades of blue- his is black implying a dark brown.

Shaggydog growls at Rickon. Which I do believe that it's a leftover of the "Tyrion did actually try to kill Bran" plot thread. Ghost didn't have any problems with him and Jon loves Bran as much as the rest of them. Maybe it's Rickon's youth.

Whatever the case, Winter Town is a very interesting idea, both becasue it's unusual and perhaps because of it's possible history. The Starks had an incentive to keep their peasants protected during the winters... I wonder why.

Bran dreams. I believe the crow is pushing him away from the idea of the horse, which gives him some modicum of freedom. There is also the idea of not remembering the Broken Tower out of fear.

Also in his dreams he sees gargoyles with red eyes. Idk what that means. Red eyes have always been spooky, and Bloodraven has 1 red eye not two sooooo.... Idk maybe it's future Jon through Ghost's eyes, or Bloodraven when he still had two eyes, or maybe a former greenseer- Jojen? Idk.

Finally, Bran suddenly blurts out for no reason that the children of the forest will take care of his uncle.

#testing rereads asoiaf #asoiaf chapter by chapter analysis #asoiaf reread #bran iv #azor ahai #the last hero #grey king #asoiaf #bran

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ao3feed-bakusquad · 4 years ago

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Class 1-Gay

Class 1-Gay by GayliansExist

Denki has created the gc “Class 1-Gay” Denki has added 10+ people to Class 1-Gay Kirishima: Dude...You actually did it XD Denki: I said I would. Now for the names- Denki has changed their name to “Dunce Face” Dunce Face has changed Kirishima's name to “Shitty Hair” Dunce Face has changed Mina's name to “Pinky” Dunce Face has changed Sero's name to “Tape Bitch” Dunce Face had changed Jiro's name to “Updated Airpods” Pinky: I love that our names are nickname's our leader gave us Aka Deki makes a gc for the Class 1-Gay's and chaos happens

Words: 1050, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of Class 1-Gay= shit going down

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi

Characters: All of class1gay, Class1b, Dadzawa and mommamic, Dadmight and mammainko, MammaMitsuki, Some of class1c

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou, Kaminari Denki/Shinsou Hitoshi, Ashido Mina/Sero Hanta, Ashido Mina & Bakugou Katsuki & Kaminari Denki & Kirishima Eijirou & Sero Hanta, Hagakure Tooru/Ojiro Mashirao, jiro/momo, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Midoriya Inko/Yagi Toshinori | All Might, deku and todoroki and uraraka and tsu and iida, Dekusquad and Bakusquad, Asui Tsuyu/Uraraka Ochako, Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto, Kendou Itsuka/Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu, Amajiki Tamaki/Hadou Nejire/Toogata Mirio, Shouji Mezou/Tokoyami Fumikage, may add others later - Relationship, Aoyama Yuuga/Iida Tenya

Additional Tags: Mineta is a dick, He be dead now so eyyyy, Shinsou replaces him YAS, Everyone is gay ig, class 1-gay, Class 1-Bi, Testu and Kiri have a cute bromance, gay Bakugou, Gay and trans Kirishima, Pansexual Shinsou, Genderfluid Denki, Bisexual Todo, bi Deku, Lesbian Jiro and momo, Pan uraraka and bi tsu, Asexual Iida, Iida is also biromantic ig, Genderfluid she/her and he/him aoyama. Also grey-ace and bi, Denki is she/her they/them and he/him, Shinsou is trans ftm, So is Kiri, denki is bi, But he also only likes one nb (shinsou XD), Shinsou goes by either they/them or he/him, He's kinda genderfluid ig idk it depends, Tsu is trans mtf, So is Jiro, The rest are also gonna come out later I'm too lazy to make all these tags about them, Depressed and insecure kirishima denki bakugou todoroki and pretty much everyone at times, Denki is an insomniac, So is kirishima deku and shinsou (duh), Bakugou Katsuki Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Bakugou has nightmares often so he doesn't get much sleep either, Bakugou is trying to be better i swear, Stop hating on my explodey boi, I wove him, Denki and kiri are best sunshine bois, So are Kouda and Deku tbh, Tsu and momo and uraraka are angels are love them, Holy fuck so many tags send help, Okau im done for now :P, BTW THIS IS A GC IF YOU COULDN'T TELL :P

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27373954

#AO3 Feed #FanFiction #AO3 Kiribaku #♥#Kiribaku #Shinkami #Seromina #💥#💎#⚡#⚣#R:G #A:Gaylians #Dadzawa #Dad Might #Bakusquad #Mental Illness

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i-write-and-therefore-i-am · 4 years ago

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One Monstrous Miracle (Part Five)

Okay. So. This one got away from me. It got unexpectedly dark, and I’m not sure how I feel about that but I’m going to post it and move on with the story. I am not a happy author about this chapter, for many reasons. Nevertheless, I love each and everyone of you and I hope you find it within you to enjoy this <3 (Pst! If you’d rather read on Ao3, here ya go!)

Previous-Next-First

Pairing: Aziraphale/Human!Reader

Summary: Michael takes some initiative. So does Sandalphon. Uriel is basically the emotional support nerd ig. Aziraphale has a nightmare. Reader does NOT have a good time.

Warnings: Okay listen closely. I have written a non-graphic description of a kidnapping, and subsequently a heavily-implied violence segment. I might be overstating or understating (please tell me if I am understating!), but I just want to keep you lovelies safe.

ALSO: This is NOT a warning, but while you’re here I might as well tell you that I have used they/them pronouns for Michael, and it/its pronouns for Sandalphon (from the script).

Word Count: 2730

(@gif, shits going down)

Michael was not stupid. They were not dimwitted, or blinded by heavenly goodness, or any of the things that they could very easily accuse their fellow celestial beings of…being. They had been paying the Angel Aziraphale very close attention these past millennia, and they had seen exactly what they had expected; the Angel had gone native. Worse than that, he had gone native and he was fraternizing with the enemy. THE enemy. El Numero Uno. The Demon Crowley.

Because Michael was none of the things mentioned above, they had quite a bit of room to be some other things, like cunning, vigilant, and good at waiting for just the right moment. They didn’t bring the aforementioned knowledge to Gabriel’s attention straight away for the sake of…strategy. It had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that the Archangel-Fucking-Gabriel wasn’t the only gosh darned Archangel around (and that’s with a capital ‘A’, thank you very much), and so there really was no pressing need for Michael to give the information in the first place, now that they thought about it. They could investigate on their own, build up a solid case, and then work from there. Maybe get some respect around the elitist promotion trap that was their Heavenly home. If only.

Michael enlisted Uriel, knowing that she would be invaluable when looking for documents or anything paper related. She had the memory for things exactly like that. Michael brought Sandalphon precisely because they knew that Aziraphale was still terrified of it after what happened at Sodom and Gomorrah. Together, they monitored Aziraphale’s every move—although the angel had somehow devised a way to keep the group from ever being able to overhear any of his traitorous conversations with the hated Crowley, they weren’t deterred in the slightest bit. They could follow the pair, take pictures, perhaps the odd selfie when the mood hit. Michael was building their case against Aziraphale, and it was only a matter of time.

Armageddon threw everything into quite a pretty mess, now didn’t it? Aziraphale was openly discussing his meetings with his “wily adversary”, reporting on the current status and whereabouts of the Antichrist (Warlock. What a revolting name). Things were starting to get fun for the first time in about a hundred years, and Michael simply didn’t have the time for their surveillance missions anymore. Not to mention that Gabriel was demanding that they all stay together as often as possible, which was a nightmare in and of itself. Michael was rather looking forward to the end of the world, not for the gargantuan blood bath that would ensue, as most of their angelic associates where no doubt panting for, but for the endless peace that comes after a job well done.

One day, when the Antichrist (still Warlock, despite Michael’s very best efforts) was 10, nearly 11, Michael noticed something very strange about the familiar bookshop that they and the rest of the group had been watching for the last couple of centuries. There was a woman, well-dressed (Michael assumed. Angels, proper Angels, that is, Aziraphale not included, have no real sense of human fashion), practically cantering down the pavement, apparently towards Aziraphale’s shop. “No, that can’t be right,” Michael thought to themselves. Although, thinking back, that woman did look strikingly familiar. So familiar, in fact, that—

“Uriel! Take a look at this.” Michael had rolled her rolly chair away from her workstation and towards the cubicle to the right of hers. Uriel popped her head around the weird, cloth divider separating their “offices” with a curious expression.

“Yes, Michael? What is it?” The other angel asked from her rolly chair. Michael gestured that she should roll her rolly chair into Michael’s cubicle.

“I’ve found something strange in the Eden files, take a look at it.” The Eden files was their special code name for anything pertaining to Aziraphale that was not, strictly, on the books. This strange something happened to be a livestream of the street where Aziraphale lived. The woman was getting closer to the shop, although not quite close enough to tell if that was, indeed, where she was going. Michael pointed the woman out to Uriel.

“Now. She looks awfully familiar to me.” Michael’s gaze drifted from their finger to Uriel sitting beside them. Uriel had her thinking face on, which could mean one of a million different things and by this point in their long, coworker relationship, Michael had learned to just let her think. Uriel frowned slightly, moved closer to the screen, tapped a single key on the keyboard in front of them on Michael’s desk, and rewound the feed. She paused it. Zoomed in. Michael wondered why it was so difficult for the Management to install some touchscreens on the ground floor, at least for the Archangels and Possibly a few of the Principalities. They’d seen inside of Gabriel’s office (Yes! A whole, bloody corner office with glass windows instead of walls so that he can survey the worker bees in their nest and not one but TWO whole touchscreens!), after all. Uriel snapped her fingers in front of Michael’s face.

“Michael? Were you listening?” Michael, as you know, had not been listening. At all.

“Of course, Uriel. What was that last bit, again?” Uriel sighed and pointed at the woman zeroed in on.

“She visits the shop almost every day. She might be important.” Michael leaned forward in their rolly chair, squinting at the grainy image despite the fact that every angel had perfect 100/100 eyesight. They hummed.

“Yes. I quite agree. Sandalphon?” They called out the name of the coworker whose cubicle stood on the left side of theirs. They heard the familiar sound of the rolly chair growing nearer until Sandalphon sat beside the two other angels. Michael pointed to the woman on the screen.

“Let’s keep an eye on her.” They all watched as Uriel unpaused and the woman entered the shop.

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They did not have to wait long for the woman to make another move. Only a few hours later, she was hurrying out of the doors, clutching onto her purse and…crying?

“He doesn’t hold on to them long, does he?” Sandalphon remarked, rubbing its forefinger across its teeth diamonds. Uriel giggled but sobered when Michael glared at her. This was not the time for making jokes. That woman was certainly a human woman, there was no doubt about that. Why was she spending so much time around Aziraphale? Why had she run sobbing from his shop? Was this like that holiday Aziraphale took with Alexander the Great? Michael very dearly hoped not—Aziraphale had positively ruined that poor boy.

“Keep your focus on that woman. We need to learn more about her.”

The kept the feed trained on her as she made her way home. She didn’t live too far from Aziraphale’s shop. But just far enough that walking was just slightly out of her way. Uriel, the more softhearted of the bunch of angels huddled around the screen, wondered whether they should miracle her a taxicab, but she was quickly shut down.

“What, and give ourselves away? Gabriel would have our halos!” Michael exclaimed, shifting in their chair. Once the woman was in the door, Michael cut the feed, gaining the attention of the others. They cleared their throat.

“Ahem. So. Not only has Aziraphale been seen consistently in the presence of known Demon Crowley, but he also appears to have developed some sort of relationship with a…mortal woman. Once again, Aziraphale proves that he does not have the strength required to walk among them. Instead, he cavorts with them, befriends them—”

“Runs a bookshop,” Sandalphon growled helpfully. Michael nodded appreciatively.

“—and runs a bookshop. Clearly, he is no longer fit for his position.”

“That’s all well and good, Michael, but he can’t be removed from said position. Only the Almighty can deal with that level of personnel change.” Uriel reminded them calmly. Michael sighed deeply.

“I know that. We all know that. The only problem is something must be done about it. Aziraphale can no longer be allowed to continue this way. It’s heinous.” All the angels nodded their head in mutual agreement. They all tried to think of something they could do, but nothing seemed to jump out at anyone. It stayed like this for a few long moments before suddenly, Sandalphon gasped loudly, startling the other two.

“I know!” it said. “The girl. She’s important to him, right?” Uriel scoffed.

“She did just run from his shop in tears, Sandalphon, did you miss that part?” It was unfazed by Uriel’s goading.

“Exactly. It’s Aziraphale! He’s so soft, he’ll go groveling for her forgiveness within a fortnight. And when he does…”

“They’ll make up with each other. Where are you going with this?” Michael interjected impatiently, not in the mood for idle chatter. Sandalphon grinned, its teeth glinting in the Holy light.

“We kidnap her. Get us in Gabriel’s good books, get some information, and, of course, to scare powe ickle bitty Aziwaphawe. Perfect plan.”

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It was not, as it happens, the Perfect Plan. However, credit is due where credit is due, and that credit goes to Sandalphon for thinking of a Nearly-Perfect Plan. It would have been the Perfect Plan had Aziraphale and that blasted woman not been so stubborn and stayed apart for so long. The days until the Antichrist’s birthday were slowly running out, and the time during which the angels could execute said plan was drawing thin. Thankfully, the two made up just in the nick of time, so it had worked out in the end.

The trio had made the trip to Crowley’s flat, knowing that they would find Aziraphale there. Aziraphale had been flustered, but his story about checking about in the demon’s abode appeared to check out. Michael refused to take their eyes off of him the entire time. After they miracled away, they appeared in an alleyway not far from the woman’s home, and on her usual route. Michael had decided, because Michael was a little bit of an ass at times, to make the mystery just a smudge more difficult by abducting the woman outside of the home BUT simultaneously leaving a single, white wing feather on the floor of her locked flat. It really was quite devious for such a pure-hearted creature. Hmm.

The kidnapping went swimmingly. Uriel snuck up behind the woman, Sandalphon had thrown the bag over her head, and once everything was settled (or as settled as can be with a kicking and struggling woman in tow), Michael miracle them into a top-secret location. I’m afraid that I, as the author, am not at liberty to disclose the location of the following events, because of course I’d have to kill you afterwards, and I’d rather not do that.

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Angels do not have dreams. Angels cause dreams in other people, they take away dreams from other people, and they may, upon occasion, serve as conduits for messages from the Almighty, which often appear to other people as dreams. But Angels themselves do not dream. Except for Aziraphale, evidently, whose subconscious had decided to do away with the natural order of things to just…you know…spice it up a little. Aziraphale frowned deeply in his sleep and rolled over, sniffling.

He was in a corridor. There were no lights, only a faint glow that seemed to come from nowhere at all. There was one door, ahead of him, but the rest of the corridor was bare, empty grey concrete. He began to move towards the door, but the corridor seemed to get longer the closer he got, until he was nearly running, trying to make some progress down the hall but never moving one inch.

The scene changed, the corridor erupting into grey and black smoke that smelt faintly of saltwater taffy. The scene reconstructed itself as a square room lit with an old-fashioned lightbulb swinging slowly back and forth from the ceiling. There was a figure shivering on a metal chair in the center of the room, hands tied behind their back and a sack over their head. Aziraphale heard whimpering from the figure and made to rush over to help them but he found that his feet were rooted to the ground, as though someone had glued them straight to the floor. Aziraphale looked up from his shoes and gasped.

Surrounding the figure were Michael, Uriel, and Sandalphon. Michael stood directly in front of the figure, bending over slightly. Sandalphon stood directly behind the figure, fingers grasping at the sack. Uriel stood apart from them both, in the corner opposite to Aziraphale. Michael made a motion at Sandalphon and it yanked the sack off of the person’s head to reveal—

Y/N. Eyes red from crying, hair a mess, makeup smudged and beyond repair. Aziraphale felt his heart stop beating. What the hell was going on? Was this some kind of joke? A voice, nagging at the edge of his consciousness told him that no, it was not a joke. Aziraphale struggled against whatever was holding his feet down with renewed vigor. He stopped when he heard your voice, hoarse and trembling. It broke him to hear you like that.

“W-who are you? What do you w-want from me?” You coughed, and Aziraphale felt a miracle dance along the tip of his fingers. He would make you well again, he would heal whatever has happened to you. You continued. “I have m-money if that’s it! It’s n-not m-m-much but—”

“Silly girl, we don’t want your money.” Came Sandalphon’s voice.

“Mmm, that’s right.” Michael responded. They leaned in closer to you, and you sank deeper into the chair to escape them. “What we want is information.”

“Wh-What? What information? I don’t- “

“What do you know of the Angel Aziraphale?” Azriaphale’s blood went cold. He had been so close to telling you himself! After all of the Armageddon mess was straightened out, he had promised himself, he would march right up to you and tell you the truth. But not now! Not when he couldn’t be there to explain, when you were hurting, being hurt, tied up like some criminal. A noise horribly like a snarl erupted from Aziraphale’s throat, startling him. Was he truly invisible in this room? After a couple of seconds of pure terror, Aziraphale’s pulse began to slow and he realized that this was most likely a vision dream, a message from someone showing him something that was either already happening, or about to happen. He prayed to anyone who would listen that it was neither of those two options.

“I swear I don’t know!” The sound of your terrified voice brought him back. Sandalphon laughed its ugly laugh and Michael chuckled.

“Should we really be doing this, Michael?” Uriel inquired softly from her spot in the corner. Aziraphale was sure he was just projecting his terror onto her, but he thought he could almost see a hint of concern in her deep black eyes. Michael just shook their head.

“It’s not as though she’ll have very long to remember it, will she?” At this, your body seized in horror, eyes open wide in shock. Fresh tears were streaming down your cheeks. Aziraphale wanted to burn this room to the ground.

“Are…are you going to kill me?” you whispered through your crying. Aziraphale held his breath to listen for the answer:

“Oh, dear me, of course not. Do you know how much paperwork that would be? Oh no. Definitely not killing you. As long as you give us the information we need.” Came Michael’s reply.

Aziraphale felt that old rage bubble up inside him, and his sword hand itched, as though the missing sword were a missing limb instead. He took a deep breath and clenched his hands into fists. He would not debase himself in such an appalling manner. He had grown since those days, and he would not be brought to his knees by a dream.

“I told you, I don’t know anything!” you pleaded desperately. The room was beginning to fade away, smoke swirling at the edges, illuminated by the swinging bulb. Aziraphale cried out, reaching out for you only to be met with empty air.

“Oh, we’ll see about that, now, won’t we?”

The last thing Aziraphale heard before waking was the sound of Michael’s laughter.

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