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radiokiran · 1 year

Text

The Price of Love

How he wished he could turn back the clock, make the world spin against its motion, and take it to the point just before he had challenged her. Mayank was outside the intensive care unit of IGMC Shimla, praying fervently and choking on guilt.

Parul lay inside unconscious, with all her senses numb with medication.

He recalled his first meeting with this headstrong schoolgirl who would leap at any challenge thrown her way. Mayank had set his eyes upon her five years ago at the Shimla University Campus where he had come to submit his own form for admission in B.Tech. Parul was there too, standing in the queue with her friend Tanya- two young aspirants for the undergraduate Law course.

Parul felt a gravitational pull towards the sprawling campus and then Mayank overheard her say to her bestie, “What a bore standing in the queue! Let’s pass it on to someone here and go hunting for some tall hunks.”

“What nonsense Parul! Be serious. We have to catch our bus back to Mandi at 2 o’clock.”

“Oh, come on! It's only 10 o’clock. You hold my form here. I’ll venture alone. See you at the University Main Gate after I’m done”, said Parul as she darted off.

Just one sight of this reckless Himachali lass clad in a printed pink salwar kameez with rosy apple cheeks, clear fair skin, two long braids, and almond eyes made Mayank’s heart skip a beat.

With his form submitted, he traced his route back to the sleepy town of Ludhiana where this handsome Punjabi lad, with well-chiselled features and a tall muscular frame, hailed from.

The admission forms found their way to the right place and a month later the successful aspirants, having secured a seat, were back on the campus to attend the new session. Mayank was placed in Room 26 of the Neer Boys’ Hostel and within a week he was tagged as Parul’s lamb, for everywhere she went, he was sure to follow.

Cheeky but harmless ragging was still on the campus. At midnight, came a knock at his door.

He staggered to the door with drooping eyelids that opened wide in a flash as he saw Parul at the door with an impish smile as she breathlessly hissed, “Good night fifty”, giggled, and made a dash from there, hastily exiting the boys’ hostel. Mayank needed someone to pinch him to tell him it was not a dream!

The next morning, the hotel mess was abuzz with the midnight episode. The daredevil newbie had knocked not just at his door but almost at everyone else’s too all to win a bet of five thousand bucks!

That sure skyrocketed her to fame and popularity and almost everyone got talking to her casually. So did Mayank as luck would have had it when she was chatting with his friend at the cafeteria.

Two months later they were again sitting in the cafeteria, but more closely drawn than before.

“Parul. I want to say something.”

“Yes, go on.”

“It’s something to do with our relationship. Yes, I mean just that. I don’t believe in friendship. I am not your friend. I never was and will never be. From the day I first saw you, I felt an irresistible attraction. I can’t define it but I was sure I wanted you as mine,” he blurted out with all the guts he could muster and then felt a trifle sheepish.

Parul’s rosy apple cheeks turned crimson, she felt all flushed with fever and tore herself away. From then on, she started avoiding Mayank leaving him feeling so miserable and restless. He approached her after four days of despondency.

“Why have you turned your back on me, Parul? What’s wrong with you?”

“Mayank, leave me alone. You said whatever you had to. Now let me tell you, I am here with a focus on my studies. So let me be,” Parul blurted and rushed towards her hostel.

The more she pulled herself away from him, the more he hankered for her. His heart teemed with love and pure love for her. He would hang around her hostel for hours together just to catch her glimpse while she appeared unmoved by it.

One day Tanya approached him rather purposefully.

“Hello Mayank, how are you?”

“I am fine Tanya,” Mayank sulked.

“Mayank, I really do feel so bad to see you like this. If you are so serious then make Parul understand your love.”

“But how?”

“Make her jealous. Ignore her and go for another girl. If Parul does feel any love for you at all, she won’t be able to take it.”

This sounded good but it left him feeling even more confused.

“But how can I toy some other girl? What would she think about me? And I don’t think anyone will be ready to be part of this crazy game plan, Tanya.”

Tanya smiled, “Mayank, I’ll do anything to help you. Parul is my bestie and I know her better than anyone else. She deserves to have a strong and bold guy like you.”

“Are you serious? How can I thank you?”

“I kinda feel envious of Parul, now. Anyway, let’s begin our game,” she smiled and left.

The next day onwards Tanya and Mayank were always found together.

“Parul, did you notice that everyone is talking about Mayank and Tanya,” one of Parul’s friends ribbed.

“Why are you telling me?” Parul roared.

“Sorry, actually we all had thought that Mayank loved you. Tanya is so lucky. Everyone knows that a boy’s heart changes with the weather.”

Parul’s face fell.

The next day, Parul spotted Mayank and Tanya sharing a table in the cafe.

“Hey Parul come here,” Tanya screamed.

“Why should I come, you backstabber,” snapped Parul as she slapped Tanya on her cheek.

“How dare you!” Mayank reacted.

“Mayank, how dare YOU! It’s me whom you love. Everyone in the college knows this,” she cried.

Mayank was on cloud nine. “Tanya, if true love comes with a price, the price would be all worthwhile if I was spending it on Parul,” he said ecstatically.

“This was one big act, my dear,” Tanya smiled at Parul who stood confused.

After a year, Parul asked Mayank to quit the hostel so that she could stay with him.

“Are you nuts? Just think what’ll happen if this news reaches our homes?”

“I have thought it over; they will learn about our relationship sooner or later. So why not start living together now?”

Soon they had moved in together in a cosy room near the hostel and their intense love and live-in relationship was the talk of the town. This setup was short-lived as Parul’s elder sister came to know about it and came all the way to pull her away to her native place and make Parul sever all contact with him.

Mayank sunk into despondency. His heart ached for her and everyone on the campus was concerned about him. Their second-year final exams were approaching and one day Tanya came to him with a letter. It recognized Parul’s handwriting. Grabbing it, he darted towards a secluded place and his head spun as he read.

“Dear Mayank

I know you must have been badly jolted by the way we were torn apart. Things are bad for me here. I have become the butt of everyone’s taunts. My mother too did not understand and slapped me. But I care for no one except you.

My father wants me to sit for the second-year exams. I’ll let him have his way. But I want you to put an application at the registrar’s office to book our marriage on the same date. I plan to quietly sneak out of the examination hall 15-20 minutes after the paper starts. I will meet you outside the registrar’s office. It’s a matter of life and death for me and the last chance for us to unite, or else my parents will marry me off to somebody else. See you there!

Yours lovingly

Parul”

Mayank thought hard. He knew his family was just as adamant as Parul’s. Had they known, he too would have been dragged to Punjab by now. too. He saw his world, his future in Parul. He said to himself, “Love is the true price of love,” and found himself tracing his way to the registrar’s office.

The date came and there he stood with Raj and Tanya, waiting for his ladylove to show up.

“Hello sweetheart”, she cooed from a distance and rushed to hug him. “I can’t believe this; so we are getting married. Hurry up.”

Mayank was over the moon and his confidence was teeming. Within half an hour they came out of the registrar’s office, a newlywed couple.

This news sure got home to both their families and the daggers were drawn.

Mayank’s father boomed, “You don’t exist for us from today.”

“I’ll believe I had no girl named Parul,” Parul’s mother whimpered, finding it difficult to control her tears.

Mayank and Parul were left with no choice but to go on with their lives in unison. It was a struggle, to carry on with their studies and do part-time jobs to make ends meet. Love held them together and after a bumpy ride of four long years, Mayank got a regular job in the Military Engineering Service; he was posted at Dagshai. Things started to look up for them and they tried again to reconcile with their parents but more curses came their way.

Standing outside the ICU, Mayank recalled how he had planned a grand 5th-anniversary party for Parul.

“Parul, I’ll send Bhanu Bhai by car to Solan to get all the things needed for the party.” Bhanu was a Nepalese whom he had recently employed.

“I will also go”, Parul said.

“Why? There is no need for you to go. You manage the preparations at home,” Mayank said calmly.

“Mayank, you always act arrogant and don’t allow me to be independent.”

“If you had known driving, I would have sent you alone,” Mayank tried to reason. But this enraged her further.

“Are you challenging me, Mayank? Just wait and see, I’ll learn to drive from Bhanu within the next six days.”

“It takes about 6 months to learn to drive properly, and you dream of it in six days,” Mayank laughed.

Parul kept to her resolve and her progress surprised everyone. She had understood the whole mechanism of driving in four days. Bhanu informed Mayank, “Sir, Bhabhi is a wonderful learner. She has picked up very fast.”

Finally, the D-day came and Mayank reluctantly allowed Parul to accompany Bhanu, adding a word of caution. “The way from Dagshai to Solan is very tricky so don’t you think of driving, okay?” He turned to the driver and spoke firmly, “Bhanu, don’t give the steering wheel in your Bhabhi’s hands.”

“Of course, not, Sir”, reassured Bhanu and set off with Parul. It had been only two hours since they had left, and Mayank began to feel restless. He came out of his office and heard some commotion in Dagshai. A voice came from the distance, “A Maruti Zen car has fallen in the gorge.”

“What colour was it,” Mayank shouted.

“Grey, Sir, A lady was driving it”, the man replied and moved away.

Mayank’s heart sank, and he made a quick dart at the accident site with his colleagues. Rescue operations were going on. The Maruti Zen had nose-dived in a gorge 150 meters down. Survival seemed dismal and all Mayank could do was pray.

He learned that on the opposite hill, an Army Unit was on exercise and the moment they had seen the car fall, they rushed to help. The Army was trained for such exigencies; for a civilian, this would have been impossible. After a six-hour rescue operation, Parul was pulled out all soaked in blood, and rushed to Indira Gandhi Medical College (IGMC) Shimla. Mayank told the army personnel to continue the search operation for Bhanu. He was informed that Parul had been found stuck between the branches of a tree 50 meters above the base while the car had gone spiralling down and hit rock bottom.

Mayank had gathered his wits and called up Parul’s father.

“How dare you dial my number? Parul is dead for us.”

“Sir, please don’t disconnect the phone. I just wanted to tell you that with your blessings Parul is truly on the brink of death”, Mayank cried bitterly.

After a moment's silence, Parul’s father asked,” What’s wrong with Parul? She was so happy with you or so she said. We want to see her!”

Mayank told them about what had happened.

He then called his own father and lamented, “Papa, Parul is dying. How right you were! I will never prosper with Parul. I’ll also kill myself rather than live without her.”

“Mayank, what has happened to Parul? Where is she?” He discerned his father’s concern for Parul for the first time ever.

Parul had been in the ICU for the last 45 hours. It was heart-wrenching for both the parents when they reached there. They prayed feverishly, blessing her countlessly, regretting bitterly the curses they had heaped on her in the past. One of Mayank’s friends came on the scene and took him aside to break the news. Bhanu’s dead body had been brought up after ten hours.

Parul asked about Bhanu as soon as she gained consciousness. “I’ll never be able to forgive myself if something goes wrong with him. It was I who had coerced him into letting me drive the car. I saw a cow in front and tried to avoid it…” Parul began to cry.

“Bhanu is fine Parul. He had some minor injuries and after treatment, he went back to Nepal. And see who has come to see you!”

Parul broke into tears seeing her parents after five long years and received blessings from Mayank’s parents. After a week, she was declared out of danger and doctors recommended one year’s bed rest as she had multiple fractures which would take time to heal.

Mayank thought he would wait to unfold the truth about Bhanu to Parul till the time she could be strong enough to handle that devastating news. He was broken from the inside and begged like a child for forgiveness for Parul and himself from Bhanu’s family. He assured them of all possible monetary help for them till he was alive.

Ever since he first set his eyes on Parul, he had often mused about the price one has to pay for true love. He stood in anguish and remorse and realized, grief was the price love had paid for being in the same world as death.

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lorenfangor · 3 years

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I heard that #40 was super homophobic :/ so I skipped it. But now your fic is making me want to give it a try. How problematic is it? Are the characters worth it?

Okay.

Let’s talk about #40.

The plot of The Other (a Marco POV) is that Marco sees an Andalite on a video tape sent in to some Unsolved Mysteries-esque TV show, and he assumes it’s Ax and hauls ass to save him from being captured. Ax, being Ax, has videotaped the show, and they pull it up and Tobias uses his hawk eyes to figure out that it’s not Ax, it’s another Andalite - one without a tailblade. Ax is appalled at the presence of this vecol (an Andalite word for a disabled person) and we find out that he and others of his species have deep ingrained prejudices against at least some kinds of disabled people.

Despite this, Marco and Ax go looking for the Andalite in question because he’s been spotted by national TV, and they meet a second one, named Gafinilan-Estrif-Valad. The vecol is Mertil-Iscar-Elmand, a former fighter pilot with a reputation and Gafinilan’s coded-gay life partner. The two of them have been on Earth since book 1; they crashed their fighters on the planet and have been trapped there thanks to the GalaxyTree going down. Gafinilan has adopted a human cover, a physics professor, and they’ve been living in secret ever since.

Thanks to that tape, Mertil has been captured by Visser Three, and he’s not morph-capable so he can’t escape. Gafinilan wants to trade the leader of the “Andalite Bandits” to the Yeerks to get his boyfriend back; he can’t fight to free Mertil because he’s terminally ill with a genetic disorder that will eventually kill him, and (it’s implied that) the Yeerks aren’t interested in disabled hosts, even disabled Andalite ones. Despite Ax’s ableism, the Animorphs agree to work with Gafinilan and free Mertil, and they’re successful. Marco ends the book talking about how there are all kinds of prejudices you’ll have to face and boxes that people will put you in, and you can’t necessarily escape them even if they’re reductive and inaccurate, but you can still live your life with pride.

So now that I’ve explained the plot, I’m gonna come out the gate saying that I love this book. I love it wholeheartedly, I love Marco’s narration, I love Ax having to deal with Andalite society’s ableism, I love these characters, and as a disabled lesbian I don’t find these disabled gays to be inherently Bad Rep.

that’s of course just my opinion and it doesn’t overshadow other issues that people might have? but at the same time, I don’t like the seemingly-common narrative that this book is all bad all the time, and I want to offer up a different read.To that end, I’m going to go point by point through some of the criticisms and common complaints that I’ve seen across the fandom over the years.

“Mertil and Gafinilan were put on a bus after one appearance because they were gay!”

this is one I’m going to have to disagree with hardcore. I talked about this yesterday, but in Animorphs there are a lot of characters or ideas that only get introduced once or twice and then get written off or dropped - in order off the top of my head, #11 (the Amazon trip), #16 (Fenestre and his cannibalism), #17 (the oatmeal), #18 (the hint of Yeerks doing genetic experiments in the hospital basement), #24/#39/#42 (the Helmacrons’ ability to detect morphing tech), #25 (the Venber), #28 (experiments with limiting brain function through drugs), #34 (the Hork-Bajir homeworld being retaken, the Ixcila procedure), #36 (the Nartec), #41 (Jake’s Bad Future Dream), and #44 (the Aboriginal people Cassie meets in Australia) all feature things that either seem to exist just for the sake of having a particular trope explored Animorphs-style or to feature an idea for One Single Book.

This is a series that’s episodic and has a very limited overall story arc because of how children’s literature in the 90s was structured - these books are closer to The Saddle Club, Sweet Valley High, Animal Ark, or The Baby-Sitters’ Club than they are to Harry Potter or A Series of Unfortunate Events. Mertil and Gafinilan don’t get to be in more than one book because they’re not established in the main cast or the supporting cast, I don’t think that it’s solely got anything to do with their being gay.

“Gafinilan has AIDS, this is a book about AIDS, and that’s homophobic!”

Okay, this is… hard. First, yes, Gafinilan does have a terminal illness. Yes, Gafinilan is gay. No, Soola’s Disease is not AIDS.

I have two responses to this, and I’ll attack them in order of their occurrence in my thought. First, there’s coded AIDS diseases all over genre fiction, especially genre fiction from that era, because the AIDS epidemic made a massive impact on public life and fundamentally changed both how the public perceived illness and queerness and how queer people themselves experienced it. I was too young to live through it, but my dad’s college roommate was out, and my dad himself has a lot of friends who he just ceases to talk about if the conversation gets past 1986 or so - this was devastating and it got examined in art for more reasons than “gay people all have AIDS”, and I dislike the implication that the only reason it could ever appear was as a tired stereotype or a message that Being Queer Means Death. Gafinilan is kind, fond of flowers, and fond of children - he’s multifaceted, and he’s got a terminal illness. Those kinds of people really exist, and they aren’t Bad Rep.

Second off, Soola’s Disease? Really isn’t AIDS. It’s a congenital genetic illness that develops over time, cannot be transmitted, and does not carry a serious stigma the way AIDS did. Gafinilan also has access to a cure - he could become a nothlit and no longer be afflicted by it, even if it’s considered somewhat dishonorable to go nothlit to escape that way. That’s not AIDS, and in fact at no point in my read and rereads did I assume that his having a terminal illness was supposed to be a commentary on homosexuality until I found out that other people were assuming it.

“Mertil losing his tail means he’s lost his masculinity, and that’s bad because he’s gay! That’s homophobic!”

so this is another one I’ve gotta hardcore disagree with, because while Mertil is one of two Very Obviously Queer Characters, he’s not the only character who loses something fundamental about himself, or even loses access to sexual and/or romantic capability in ways he was familiar with.

Tobias and Arbron both get ripped out of their ordinary normal lives by going nothlit in bad situations, and while they both wind up finding fulfillment and freedom despite that, it’s still traumatic, even more for Arbron I’d say than for Tobias. And on a psychological level, none of the main cast is left unmarked or free of trauma or free of deep change thanks to the bad things that have happened to them - they’re no less fundamentally altered than Mertil, even if it’s mental rather than physical. And yes, tail loss is equated with castration or emasculation, but that doesn’t automatically mean Mertil suffering it is tied to his homosexuality and therefore the takeaway we’re intended to have is “Being gay is tragic and makes you less of a man”. This is a series where bad shit happens to everyone, and enduring losses that take away things central to one’s self-conception or identity or body is just part of the story.

Also, frankly? Plenty of IRL disabled people have to grapple with a loss of sexual function, and again, they’re not Bad Rep just because they’re messy.

“Andalite society is confusingly written in this book, and the disability aspects are clearly just a coverup for the gay stuff!”

Andalite society is canonically sexist, a bit exceptionalist and prejudiced in their own favor, and pretty contradictory and often challenged internally on its own norms. In essence, it’s a pretty ordinary society, and they’re really realistic as sci-fi races go. It makes sense from that perspective that Andalites would tolerate scarring or a lost stalk eye or a lost skull eye, but not tolerate serious injuries that significantly impact your perceived quality of life. Ableism is like that - it’s not one-size-fits-all. I look at Ax’s reactions and I see a lot of my own family and friends’ behaviors - this vibes with my understanding of prejudice, you know?

“Mertil and Gafinilan have a tragic ending, which means the story is saying that being gay dooms you to tragedy!”

Mertil and Gafinilan have the best possible ending that they could ask for? They are victims of the war, they are suffering because of the war, they get the same cocktail of trauma and damage that every other soldier gets. But unlike Jake and Tobias and Marco, unlike Elfangor, unlike Aximili? Their ending comes in peace, in their own home. Gafinilan isn’t dying alone, he’s got the love of his life with him. Mertil isn’t going to be as isolated anymore, he’s got Marco for a friend. Animorphs is a tragedy, it’s not a happy story, it’s not something that guarantees a beautiful sunshine-and-roses ending for everyone, and I love tragedy, and so I will fight for this story. Yes, it hurts. Yes, it deserved better. But it’s not less meaningful just because it’s sad. Nobody is entitled to anything in this book, and it’s just as true for these two as it is for anyone else.

“It’s not cool that the only canonically gay characters in this series don’t get to be happy and trauma-free and unblemished Good Rep!”

This is one I can kind of understand, and I’ll give some ground to it, because it is sucky. The only thing I’ll say is that I stand by my argument that nothing that happens to Mertil and Gafinilan is unusual compared to what happens to the rest of the cast, and that their ending is way happier than Rachel and Tobias’s, or Jake and Cassie’s. But it’s a legitimate point of frustration, and the one argument I’ll say I agree has validity.

(Though, I also want to point out that I think there are plenty of equally queercoded characters in the story who aren’t Mertil and Gafinilan - Tobias, Rachel, Cassie, and Marco all get at least one or two moments that signal to me that they’re potentially LGBT+, not to mention Mr. Tidwell and Illim in #29 and their long-term domestic partnership. There’s no reason to assume that the only queer people here are those two aliens when Marco’s descriptions of Jake exist.)

“Marco uses slurs and reduces Gafinilan’s whole identity to his illness!”

Technically, yes, this is true, except putting it that way strips the whole passage of its context. Marco is discussing the boxes society puts you into, the ones you don’t have a choice about facing or escaping. He’s talking about negative stereotypes and reductive generalizations, he’s referring to them as bad things that you get inflicted upon you by an outside world or by friends who don’t know the whole story or the real you. The slurs he uses are real slurs that get thrown at people still, and they’re not okay, and the point is that they’re not okay but assholes are going to call you by them anyway. He ends by saying “you just have to learn to live with it”, and since this is coming from a fifteen-year-old Latino kid who we know is picked on by bullies for all sorts of reasons and who faces racism and homophobia? He knows what he’s talking about. He’s bitter about what’s been said and done, he’s not stating it like it’s a good thing.

Yes, absolutely, this speech is a product of its time, but it’s a product of its time that speaks of defiance and says “We aren’t what we’re said to be,” and in the year this was published? That’s a good message.

tl;dr The Other is good, actually, and Mertil and Gafinilan are incredible characters who deserve all the love they could possibly get.

#animorphs #animorphs meta #mertil/gafinilan #mertil #gafinilan #mertil-iscar-elmand #gafinilan-estrif-valad

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trash-gobby · 3 years

Note

Hiiiii, could I request some Nelson wright x female reader (or gn reader) in which they meet at like a house party and reader is on a totally different career path (like something creative) and nelson is justo head over heels immediately?

A Night To Remember

Pairings: Nelson Wright X AFAB!Reader

Characters: Nelson Wright, Reader, David Labraccio, Rachel Mannus, Randy Steckle, Joe Hurley, Readers Best Friend, Reader's BFF's Boyfriend, Original Characters

A/N: Sorry this took so long (I feel like I'm apologizing a lot for my long periods between posting). I got a serious case of writer's block, so I had to take breaks and keep coming back over time to look at this haha. Got it done though! Hopefully you enjoy, and thanks again for sending in this request Anon! Also as a side-note, I am the king of not proofreading because I get anxiety reading back my own writing for some reason. Don't ask me it's totally stupid, but if there are any errors please let me know.

Reader Pronouns = She/They

RATING: PG

⚠️Warning!: None.

Word Count: 4.9K

Multi-POV

You almost considered not going to the party. It wouldn’t have been the first time you skipped an event like this. You were much to interested in building your portfolio of work then socializing, especially when the new year was imminent and your graduation not long after. The long nights of mulling over your work, setting up dates for shoots, and writing papers revolving around your piece’s significance to the photographic world.

However, your friend had begged that you attend this little get-together, stating you had barely been out of the house for most of the semester, not even for any holiday celebrations. They promised it would just be a small group of final year students from the university your attending and some of their boyfriend’s fellow doctoral students from the nearby medical science college. After declining multiple times until they begged you to come because it wouldn’t be fun without you, something you sincerely thought was untrue, you accepted.

Now you were getting of the dinky old bus, and preparing to walk the two blocks to your friends apartment. You shuddered as a shiver ran up your spine from the cold December chill. Wrapping your jacket tighter around your body, you picked up the pace, avoiding the slush which had coagulated in the potholes and dips in the sidewalk. Chicago winter was killer, sometimes you couldn’t believe you’d survived it in the shitty apartment you had. The air conditioner barely worked and the heater had crapped out, and your landlord was to lazy to come and actually fix it.

Your musing eventually lead you to the brightly lit red-brick brick house which your friend rented out, with its shabby window frames and partially broken eavestrough. They probably couldn’t afford to get their shit fixed either, you chuckled to yourself under your breath as you made your way up the stone steps to knock on the front door.

Before you could even wrap your knuckles on the wood, the door swung open and a man with short brown hair in a black coat stumbled onto the front step nearly knocking you over. He noticed you last minute and was able to pivot out of the way.

“Heh, sorry I didn’t see you there.”

“It’s alright, you just surprised me that’s all.”

“Your Y/N right?” The man said giving you a sheepish grin, which was both very charming and attractive. He clearly quite practiced at giving these looks, as his clean-cut and handsome nature gave to you.

“I’m Joe, Joe Hurley,” he extended his hand to you, “Y/F’s boyfriend mentioned you were a close friend of theirs, both in the photography course.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” You responded, taking his hand in yours and shaking.

“Who’s letting in the draft?” Y/F appeared at the door sporting a very festive looking sweater. Once they saw you standing in the doorway, they pushed past Joe, embracing you in a hug.

“I am so glad you came! I almost thought you weren’t going to make it,” They said, leading you into the house.

“Glad to know you have so much confidence in me,” You replied, earning a playful punch to the shoulder.

“I’m gonna go pick up the extra wine you asked for, since we both know Ruth and Stanley are gonna drink everyone under the table,” Joe closed the door behind him as he left, shutting out the frost and the lightly falling snow that had just begun.

“They haven’t arrived yet, but the med students are here. They showed up pretty early. Guess that’s what you expect from people who get in deeper shit then we do for being late. It’s a pretty prestigious place.” Y/F leads you into the kitchen where you can see a pretty large whole chicken baking in the oven, and an assortment of pots and pans cooking on the stove. The counters are littered with a variety of spices and veggies in various stages of being chopped up. It’s a complete mess, but you know your friends always been prone to these episodes of controlled chaos, that’s how they created their best art. That meant the food was most likely going to be divine.

“Smells good in here.”

“Thanks, I try. We’ll just have to see if it smells as good as it tastes.”

Y/F starts in on cutting some broccoli into smaller more manageable chunks with a comically large knife.

"You should head into the living room, get to know the rest of the gang here tonight," Before you could protest that you'd prefer to help out in the kitchen then mingle with a bunch of strangers, Y/F pushes a large bottle of red wine into your hands.

"Can you also bring this into the living room for the others, thank you!" once again you couldn't even get a word in edgewise. Not unusual for Y/F, who was always the more forceful of the two of you.

As you exit the kitchen, bottle in hand, you call out "By the way that sweater is ridiculous, it's not even December yet."

Taking slow steps down the narrow hallway was your way of prolonging the inevitable awkward introductions you’d have to make to a room full of strangers. You stopped in front of a framed picture sitting slightly tilted on its hinge. The photo itself made you smile, an old picture of you, Y/F, their boyfriend, and two of your high school friends. You’d all decided to go backpacking through Europe as one last adventure before heading to university, college or trades school. The memories of that trip washed over you, reminding you of the ease you used to feel around complete strangers, something you had lost with the years of relentless work keeping you away from company. Now the very idea of leaving your dorm room or the familiar confines of the photo lab made you severely anxious. You had to but that behind you, because you had decided to come and there was no going back now.

Straightening the picture frame on it’s nail, you headed to the open double doors to the living-room, pouring its orange light and jovial conversation from inside, and prepared to be an open social member of the party, for however long that lasted.

As you took your first steps into the doorway, you set your eyes upon the scene before you. Two couches sitting opposite each other in the small but cozy room, a squad wooden coffee table which was one of Y/F’s scores from when you and them would go dumpster diving, a lit fireplace, antique bookcase lining one side of the walls, an occupied worse-for-ware easy chair, and a vintage lamp which Y/F had brought back from Budapest with them.

Even more intriguing than the familiar living-room setting was the unfamiliar group of people occupying it. Four strangers, all chatting over nearly empty glasses of wine about what you assumed from what you could hear, were the recent exams they had to taken. The first of the four to notice your appearance was the only other woman present. She had her hair tied back into a ponytail, keeping the brown curls away so you could see her face when she offered you a polite smile. As soon as the woman looked up the others also noticed you standing there quietly, you figured saying something might make it a little less awkward then standing around staring.

“Hey, I’m Y/N, Y/F’s friend, I brought some more wine,” you supplied, taking a few steps into the room and placing the bottle on the coffee table.

“Nice to meet you I’m Rachel, Randy would you move over and make room so she can sit down?” The man name Randy, moved from his seat in the center of the couch, over to one side to make room for you introducing himself as he did.

“Randy Steckle,” He held out his hand, and you shook it whilst placing yourself at a polite distance from him on the couch. Out of all the people here, he was the most smartly dressed in a tweed vest, matching trousers, and dress shirt. He made you feel very underdressed by comparison.

The man on the couch beside Rachel also took this time to introduce himself as David, who was thankfully dressed as casually as you were, making you feel like you were at least not the only one who decided a pair of work jeans and a t-shirt. If you’d known that this had been a more formal or well-dressed occasion you might have invested in something more fancy to wear, not that you owned anything fancy as a broke student. All your money had already gone to either rent, food, or back into university to cover tuition.

“Your Y/F’s friend from school right?” David added as he offered to pour the wine for everyone. An empty glass had already been supplied for you on the table, a mismatched one, but to be fair none of Y/F’s cutlery ever matched. It all came second-hand from thrift stores and antique junk stores.

“Yeah we’re in the same major, Photographic Arts & Media,” you supplied.

“Oh, that’s super cool. What’s work like in that field?”

“Lucrative depending on what kind of work you get into. You guys are all medical students right?”

“Yep, all working towards becoming surgeons,” David took a healthy sip from his glass.

“That must be pretty intense, can’t imagine rooting around in someone’s body, blood freaks me out,” you chuckled, earning a few chuckles from the others.

“I’d definitely say it’s an acquired practice,” Randy added before starting to go in more detail about the surgical specialization in more detail, with both David and Rachel adding to his little speech here and there with some little anecdotes here and there.

Sitting back and listening you could feel the passion they had for their practice despite its morbidity. A lot of the medical jargon did go over your head, and as Randy got into more detail about the exams and scheduled classes they had, the more the whole group fell into what seemed like their typical ingroup banter. It was nice to sit back and watch in pleasant silence as a group of clearly close friends chatting, laughing, and telling each other inside jokes. It reminded you of all the times you’d missed out on with Y/F and your other friends. All the nights where they'd invited you to clubs and on bar crawls that you'd traded out for long nights pouring over art history texts and working in the photo lab under its harsh red light.

However, one person in this group had been completely silent, to the point where you hadn't really registered his gaze. He was leaning far back in the easy chair, dress shirt with it's top two buttons undone, one of his feet in expensive shoes crossed over his knee.

You caught his eyes and held his gaze for a moment. Bright blue eyes, filled with a slight spark to them, whether it was curiousity or something else you weren't sure. His hair short and dirty blonde in colour, clearly he'd gotten it done professionally. He gave you a slight smile and you looked away blushing, you'd been staring for to long.

He picked up his wine glass and brought it to his lips, taking a sip before starting to say something. He was interrupted by Y/F shouting from the kitchen.

"I need an extra set of hands in here to help with this bird!"

You automatically stood preparing to get yourself out of this awkward situation, before Rachel reached out and stopped you.

"You just got here, I’ll go,” she said, coaxing you back into sitting.

“You sure? You just got your glass refilled.”

“I’ll take it with me, don’t worry about it, just relax,” Rachel, got to her feet, taking her wine with her and exited the room calling to Y/F that she was coming to help.

“I think that’s my cue for a bathroom break,” You scooched out of the way, half standing up in order to make space for Randy to get past you.

“Jeez, this is the fourth time you’ve gotten up, you have the bladder the size of a peanut,” David added as he poured himself another glass of red.

Then it was just you, David and the blonde man. There was a long pause where everyone sat in awkward silence, David drinking his wine, you making yourself familiar with thread patterns of the living-room rug. Navy green was such an ugly colour for a carpet.

“So, whats art school like?” David asked, breaking the silence.

You look up and once again you can feel the very intense gaze of the silent blonde man in the easy chair. Deciding against making anymore intense eye contact, you instead settle for looking at the peeling plaster slightly up and to the right of where David is sitting.

"It's stressful, not nearly as stressful as having to perform all your exams on cadavers kind of stressful, but it keeps me busy."

"You mentioned majoring in photo correct?"

"Photographic Arts & Media is the official title, but yes. We mostly have a mixture of hands on photo assignments, art history and a focus on working with new media," You could feel yourself starting to relax as the conversation remained focused on something you could understand and talk about, and David's polite attention was making you feel welcome on some level.

"Hands on, like what kind of projects?" It was the first words you'd heard from the man sitting in the easy chair, and you were taken aback by the smooth and pleasant sound of his voice.

"W-well, I, we," you take a moment to clear your throat and your head before continuing. "We usually have a couple assignments which revolve around various things, what they are is usually quite open when it comes to guidelines. Usually we'll pitch an idea for a project to our professor and if we're given the greenlight, we have to construct a narrative through our images and their subjects."

"Sounds a lot more open ended then anything we do," The man said leaning forward, hands on his knees giving you his full attention.

"I mean it's not surgery, but it can be pretty intense. Especially when it comes to the critiquing period, we all sit outside the photo lab and have to present our either currently in works projects or finalized projects and then we get torn a new asshole by both our profs and the class."

“Doesn’t sound that different from the reaming we get during the rounds we have to do in the surgical ward. Except you have an audience of your whole class and not just those in the same practice. I know that Y/F does things that involve a merging of collage and paint with photo. What do you do? What’s your artistic thing?”

“My artistic thing?” You laughed at his phrasing, and received in return a small smile.

“Eloquently put,” The man chuckled from behind his glass. He had nearly emptied it in the last minute you’d been having your little conversation. David just gave him a look, before shrugging and fishing around in one of the pockets in his sweater, fishing out a box of cigarettes, and a lighter.

“My 'thing' I guess, if you could call it that, is capturing real life stories of working class people. I like using old cameras, running on old film, sometimes even 16mm," You were about to continue when David flicked the lighter, sending up a small spark that died out quickly, reminding you of Todd (Y/F's boyfriend's) rigid rules about smoking in the house.

"I'm sorry you can't smoke in here, Todd's a real stickler about it. He says the smell really gets into the carpet," David examined the cigarette before thinking better of it and placing it back in the pack.

"You can smoke it outside on the front step," You added.

"I might have to do that. I've been dying to get a smoke in all day. Been to busy working. I don't want to interrupt you explanation though."

"It's no problem really, you can go smoke and I'll catch you up on everything when you come back."

"Okay, I'll be back in ten," David smiled sheepishly, looking slightly guilty about needing to take a smoke break from the conversation. He got up and waved to the man sitting in the chair before quickly walking out of the room.

It became very clear to you now that it was just you and this man who had yet to really introduce himself. For a moment there was just silence with a hint of some kind of tension in the room. You couldn't tell what this energy was, just that it made your palms sweat and you skin heat up.

The light of the fireplace gave off a warm glow that overpowered the lamp, bathing you both in a soft orange hue. It made the sharp edges of everything soft, including the man's intense stare, the quirk of his pink bow-shaped lips, the comforting sky blue of his eyes, what it would be like to brush your hands against the cleanly shaved skin on his cheeks.

God don't think about his lips! You don't even know this guy. He's attractive, sure, but you don't know who he is, what he is, or even his name. You can't possibly be thinking these thoughts right now about some strang-

"I'm Nelson by the way," the man, now with a name you could attach to his person.

"I feel rude not introducing myself properly earlier, there was just a lot of stuff going on. Although with that lot," he gestures to the doorway where everyone had exited at some point that night "it's hard to get a word in edgewise."

"It's alright, it's not like I really introduced myself to you either, I'm Y/N," you extend your hand to Nelson across the coffee table and he leans forward to take it. His hands are much softer than you expected them to be, your fingers brush over a scar on the back of one of his knuckles, the only blemish on his skin.

“Y/N, I like the sound of that name, feels like the name of someone who works in something cool like photography.”

“I mean, if you say so. I always thought it was kinda just a generic name, or at least not very artsy. Nelson sounds pretty sciencey though,” you added.

“More like the name of annoying snobby rich kid with to much time on his hands,” he chuckled before picking up his glass from the table, still leaning forward into the conversation the two of you were having.

“I wouldn’t be that cruel,” you said in response.

“I would. Have never really been a huge fan of the name Nelson, but it’s what I’m saddled with, so I make do. The work you mentioned doing, in photography. It sounds really interesting. I’ve never really heard anything like it before.”

You felt suddenly very self-conscious. The way he'd expressed such interest was not something you were used to. Constantly being surrounded in your academic life by other artists working on equally complex and sometimes even more nuanced ideas then you, made the fact that Nelson was so taken by your ideas quite charming.

"I mean it's nothing that special by comparison to what Y/F does visually with eye-capturing colours, but it feels real and visceral to get what's real on camera. I want people to really see the struggle and triumphs of everyday people. I don't want to sugar coat what happens or over-dramatize it. Everyone should see the reality of what the world is like for most working class people."

______________________________________________________________

The animated nature of them as they explained in a clearly passionate manner their inspiration for working in the photography program warmed something deep within Nelson. It reminded him of how he felt when he first entered the surgical field of study. He wished he'd still kept that passion alive like Y/N. It felt like over the years of study, he found the competition more important than the actual thrill of the learning.

The way her face lit up, and the glint in their eyes, made his heart flutter in a way that he hadn't felt since he met Rachel in the first year of their studies. He'd been taken by her passion too.

"Where is everybody?" Nelson and Y/N were startled from their conversation by Joe standing in the living-room doorway.

"I saw David smoking outside, but everyone else?"

"Rachel is helping Y/F in the kitchen, and Randy is taking an obnoxious amount of time in the washroom," Nelson didn't intend for his voice to come out as rankled as it sounded, but he really wanted to have this moment with Y/N to himself. Something about them made him feel oddly intrigued by and greedy for their attention.

"Has he been bragging about his GPA again?" Joe asked with a playful smirk on his face that made Nelson want to smack him upside the head. "He does that a lot. No seriously, I'm not kidding. A loooo-"

"She gets the point, and the answer is no," Nelson sniped back, now being purposefully rather short, but keep at least some edge of playfulness in his demeanor to cover his aggravation.

"And you'd probably also have a higher GPA if your spent more time studying and actually attending lectures than spending quality time with Susan from engineering, or was it Catherine from accounting? I can't seem to remember."

Joe mocked as if Nelson had shot him through the chest with that jab before saying; "Ouch, you really went in on that one."

Nelson was momentarily distracted along with Joe by the soft pleasant laughter from Y/N, who looked bemusedly at both of them.

"Aren't you two supposed to be friends or something?"

"Jury's out on that one," The voice of Randy called out from the hall before appearing next to Joe.

"Just so you know, we were having a really nice conversation about Y/N's future career in photography before you interrupted."

"Photography, cool. Like what kind of photography? Tasteful nude modelling?" It was said playfully, but had an edge of Joe's usual perverse humor and attitude behind it.

"Are naked women all you think about?" Randy asked, with a mixture of purturbedness and exasperation.

"Naked people, I don't discriminate."

"Jesus christ."

Before Joe could answer with a quip or witty retort the sound of Y/F yelling from the kitchen cut through the somewhat awkward and embarrassing conversation. It made Nelson feel slightly self-conscious in a way that he hadn't in a long time. His pride, ego, and ambition usually made sure he kept his cool, but not with Y/N. For some reason this person, who he'd just met, had snagged on something deep and insecure within in him.

"Dinner will be ready soon! Y/N! Please come to the kitchen, I just need a hand with table settings. Also Stanley and Ruth can't make it unfortunately,"

"So much for the wine, guess we'll have to drink it all ourselves," Joe shrugged as he said this, Y/N quickly getting up and excusing herself from the room. Nelson felt almost like getting up and following her, but remained seated. It would be creepy to just follow them around like some kind of lost puppy asking questions and needling them about her life.

"So, she's cute," Joe said leaning back into the hallway to watch her leave before fixing Nelson with a cheeky grin and wiggling his eyebrows.

"Joe," Nelson said levelly.

"Yeah."

"Please stop talking."

______________________________________________________________

The smell was mouthwatering. Y/F had really outdone themselves with the spread they'd made. Everyone had greedily gobbled down the chunky and perfectly seasoned potatoes, glistening juice chicken, the assortments of green beans, brussel sprouts and all manner of vegetables which there were clearly to much of, along with Y/F's legendary stuffing. No one was exactly sure what the full recipe was for it, just that it tasted like heaven in the form of nutty, ginger, fluffy goodness.

The conversation was just as good. Everyone laughing and carrying on. You'd fallen into the conversation quite comfortably and thought at this point that maybe going out tonight was not the worst decision you could have made after all. The good food and even better company definitely helped. Several times throughout the dinner you caught the eyes of Nelson on you, and he'd shoot you a smile that made you'd return, feeling a warmth grow in your chest.

After what seemed like endless hours of eating, talking and drinking, the plates were empty and everyone was quite full.

Y/F rose from her seat and began clearing the table methodically.

"I can help you with those," You said taking the plates from Y/F's hands and continuing around the table clearing the dishes.

"Thank you! I might also need a hand in the kitchen from you and someone else, I hate asking but.."

"I'll help," Nelson raised his hand, getting up from his seat smoothly as not to seem like he was rushing to help.

Y/F ushered him into the kitchen to start on washing the pots and pans while you worked on clearing the table, and they prepared desert.

Once you'd precariously balanced all the dishes on your arms, you slowly made your way to the kitchen entryway. A part of you was strangely excited to have this new person to yourself. Nelson had only really gotten to speak to you alone briefly, but those few minutes were still circling around in your mind, replaying all evening.

As you entered the kitchen Y/F rushed to help you unload the some of the dishes from your arms while thanking you and Nelson profusely for helping with the undertaking.

Set up in the kitchen, you set to helping with the drying and placing of plates back into their designated drawers. Both of you fell into a gentle rhythm of cleaning for a couple minutes, silently working side by side. This close to him, you could smell the slight scent of whatever shampoo he used and a very faint undertone of antiseptic. He must have been working rounds before coming here. It made you wonder why he would want to help with dishes while probably having already have to be on his feet for hours during work.

"You look a little tired, you sure you don't want me to just do the rest on my own?" You suggested lightly.

"No, no it's fine. I don't mind doing dishes, it gives me something mundane to focus on for a while." Nelson handed you a plate at an awkward angle as he said this, causing you to accidentally place your hand over his while taking hold of the dish.

"Sorry, Sorry, my bad," just the touch of his hand sent a spark of something exciting through you. It was such as unexpected jolt of raw attraction that you tried to not drop the dish in your hands, making you smooth recovery look as natural as possible.

"You alright there?" he chuckled in response to your fumbling, something smug about the look on his face.

"Just fine, fine."

"We never did get to finish our conversation from earlier."

"The one where I was nerding out about my personal photographic art style or whatever? I was honestly just rambling." Nelson turns to look at you fully for a moment, his eye contact intense, capturing you off-guard and lighting a small fire inside you.

"I thought what you were talking about sounded really interesting, and something I would love to see when you have your own showing in a gallery one day," you look down to break the intense eye contact, hoping that your blushing would be less obvious.

"Hah, it's definitely a dream of mine to have a showing in a gallery, but I'm a long way from that."

"Not too long I'm guessing."

"That's very kind to say. The only thing close to a gallery that I'll be doing is a section in a gallery-style presentation we're putting on at the university to showcase our thesis projects once they've been completed." Together you had nearly made it to the bottom of the pile of dishes together.

"If your really interested it will be hosted in April. I'd love to see you there," Nelson looked over to you again, having passed the last dish, removing the dish gloves and leaning against the counter.

"I'd love to see that, you should give me more of the details over coffee sometime, where we can talk in a less chaotic setting." Now you absolutely knew for sure he was flirting. Though it hadn't been exactly subtle before, with his intense interested and eye contact.

So why not?

"I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

The smile on his face was priceless, something between a smirk and a bashful smile. There had been a lot of little looks exchanged by the two of you throughout the night, and you hoped there would be even more to share in the future. Over coffee or maybe lunch.

As Y/F called you both back into the dining room, all you could think was how you were so glad you'd decided to come to dinner that night. It had been one of the best choices you could have made, and you had a feeling you wouldn't regret it.

#nelson wright #nelson wright x reader #flatliners 1990 #flatliners #david labraccio #rachel mannus #randy steckle #joe hurley #kiefer sutherland #kevin bacon #trash gobby requests #trash-gobby requests

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puthyflapps · 2 years

Note

Girl you can write and write WELL why tf aren't you giving us the shoni fics we deserve 😭 I kid i kid but LIKE.. just give us a little smutty one shot that fills in the blanks from their moment in the woods after Toni said i love you. Or finish Shelby's thought when she kissed her against the tree, lets just pretend Toni never stopped her.

Me and my 8th grade writing skills purrrr 😌💅🏼🫶🏻

I’ve had several ideas swimming around in my head but none were v smutty but I could slide it in there 😉🥁

N e waysss, the following are my vague ideas:

🏀 I brought this up in the tags of a post a couple days ago:

Shelby giving Toni the silent treatment after she doesn’t pick her to be on her team when the girls decide to split into teams and compete against one another again. Toni starring wide eyed at the blonde as she goes on this long winded rant about how she hadn’t expected to be picked first – noting that she was aware that her girlfriend would obviously choose Martha, her sister, ahead of the blonde. That was perfectly fine, ya know, because Shelby was convinced that she at least had the second or third slot locked up. But evidently that wasn’t the case as she was forced to watch Toni skip over her time and time again in favor of picking other girls. Long story short, the way Sarah mutters these hilarious one liners in the background lead me to think about Shelby bickering with Toni and what Leah’s reaction would be if Shelby were to stare right into Toni’s eyes and state with so much conviction and frustration lining her voice, “you picked Leah over me.”

🏀 Now this one is definitely on the sad side but:

Shoni as secret high school sweethearts that have been planning to run away so they can be together. Dave catches wind of the plan and shows up at Toni’s workplace after closing on the night they plan to catch a greyhound out of Fort Travis. He corners her and begins to ask if she's really thought this all through, like, has she really stopped for a moment and thought about how she plans to support herself and Shelby. He explains further, noting that he's well aware of the fact that his daughter seeks to see the good in everybody and in every situation; that she believes wholeheartedly in this idea of a true love that can overcome anything but he's certain that Toni knows better than that. Toni is not unfamiliar with the harsh realities of life and the ugliness that bubbles below the surface of most people. So, he begs her to spare Shelby before its too late and things have gotten far too serious. He pleads with her to understand that she'll be alone once Toni inevitably splits on her when things get a little too real -- just like her own parents have done many times before.

In summation, I think the most depressing, heartbreaking visual ever is one of Shelby waiting for hours at a bus stop all alone, wondering where Toni is and what's going on. Even more heart wrenching is the moment where it finally sinks in that she's not coming and Shelby is forced to call Dave to come get her and he spends the rest of the night explaining to her that this was all just God's will -- that he was teaching her a lesson. Bouncing off of that, imagine if the bus stop stuff was all in the past but the present sees Shelby showing up at Toni's doorstep because she's trying to flee her husband or sumn and she doesn't know where else to go. Basically, we learn that all the internalized homophobia she had been so dead set on scraping out of herself comes crashing down on her when Toni abandons her. In the years following this heartbreak we learn she's been punishing herself for going against everything she had been taught by her church and her father. She's given into the full comphet life and its utterly miserable. Toni is gonna be just absolutely swallowed up by guilt but that's angst for ya.

🏀 Okay so this one is also giving us secret high school sweethearts but I believe its not sad so yay. I have these two ideas floating around and the first scene or whatever takes place on the night of Valentine's Day:

Once its dark outside Toni sneaks in to see Shelby via her bedroom window. She fumbled her way through the window before clumsily finding her way into the other girl’s arms. They kissed one another in excitement, basking in the warmth of their love for one another before finally breaking away so that they could exchange gifts. Cards were first; Shelby’s cheeks tinged pink as she slid hers over to Toni and the basketball player knew immediately that her girlfriend no doubt spent many hours deliberating over which card to get. She’s sure that the blonde studied each one, pouring over each and every line, making sure to select the perfect one. When Toni finally opened it, she was not at all surprised to see what she’d come to learn was the most beautiful handwriting in the world. It'd all made Toni a little nervous to hand over the slightly crumpled card she'd been concealing in her book bag all day. Toni did her best to flatten the edges out some before hastily shoving the envelope into the other girl’s hands. Shelby didn’t seem to mind the minor imperfections. If anything, it only seemed to make her love it even more. A reflection of how she’d always looked past Toni’s rough exterior because she knew what mattered most lied on the inside.

When they moved onto the gifts that was when the realization that Shelby wanted to lose her virginity to Toni settled in. There’d been a battle raging inside her for some time now. The part of her that was nothing more than a young girl in love versus the constrictive expectations placed on her by the church and her father. But there, in that moment, all the doubts and the raging voices in her mind faded away. Holding, in her hands, that necklace with the beautiful bee pendant, she knew that Toni was the one she’d share her first time with and so she’d told her just as much. Right in the middle of Toni’s nervous rambling; right in the middle of her long winded explanation about how she had thought that Shelby could wear it as this silent acknowledgment of the love the two of them shared.

Okie that description got a tad bit away from me but that whole thing ties into the other scene that I’m not going to go into detail about to save myself some energy. But, basically Toni gets hurt during a basketball game and Shelby just throws all caution to the wind. She takes off to meet the injured girl on the court and that’s when their relationship comes to light. Right then, in front of the whole school. Drama 🫶🏻

🏀 alright so these are very brief ideas that have no other thots surrounding them:

- Toni showing up on Shelby’s doorstep one night because she got kicked out of her latest foster home and she’s got nowhere else to go

- Shelby holding a tissue or cloth to Toni’s nose that’s currently pouring blood because, you guessed it, she was fighting

- Toni being a part of a rock/punk band and her and Shelby always bicker. Shelby says that she doesn’t like her music and she’s always teasing Toni about how they don’t have any songs that aren’t full of anger. The first song Toni ever writes and preforms that’s stripped down and soft is for Shelby and you guessed it again, the song is Matilda by Harry Styles 💀

Ummmm I think that’s all I got rn

#I had to use emojis as bullets because tumblr wasn’t formatting the way I wanted #I meant to finish writing this last night but I was off a Benadryl so i passed out #gotta get me some anti drowsy medicine 🥴#this was low-key kinda long #i didn't mean to delve into some weird details here but oh well #the wilds #shoni #toni x shelby #shoni fic

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daenqyu · 4 years

Text

heather | kaminari denki

— gif isn’t mine !! credits go to @misakachan

pairing: kaminari x fem!reader | platonic!kirishima x fem!reader

genre: LOTS of angst, some comfort(?)

summary: kaminari had been oblivious to your feelings for years now, and at first it was okay, you didn’t mind hiding them. until you noticed the way he looked at her and suddenly, it wasn’t okay anymore.

warnings: swearing

word count: 5.6k

a/n: this is my first time writing and posting for a bnha character so i really hope you guys like it <3 i usually don’t write angst, but i couldn’t stop thinking about this and decided to write it down and i’m very happy with how it turned out.

« i still remember third of december

me in your sweater, you said it looked better

on me, than it did you, only if you knew

how much i liked you »

YOUR whole body trembled thanks to the coldness surrounding you, the snow decorating the floor and trees being a clear sign that winter had already begun in japan. you hugged your arms in a poor attempt to provide yourself some kind of heath, only to be met with the feeling of your cold hands. out of all the days you could’ve forgotten your jacket, it had to be on one of the coldest days of december. profanities fell from your lips as you tried your best to endure the pain until the bus came, but you were sure you would pass out by then. or maybe you were exaggerating.

the bus stop wasn’t that far away from your house, maybe if you ran you could get your jacket and get back on time to catch the bus. you checked your phone to see the time, a groan leaving your lips as you realized that was going to be practically impossible. if you left now, by the time you came back the bus would be long gone. dammit, why do i have to forget everything?

“well well, look who we have here.” your ears perked up as soon as you heard the male’s voice, a small smile making its way to your lips.

kaminari made his way over to you, both hands on his pockets as he returned the smile, making the butterflies in your stomach go crazy. the smile didn't falter until he took note of your current state. his eyes widened with concern and his hands worked fast to take his jacket off.

“denki, what are you doing?” confusion was evident on your face, but that didn’t stop the blonde from wrapping you up in the warm material.

you blushed from the sudden proximity, his face just inches away as he finished zipping up the piece of clothing. it didn’t take long before his cologne filled your nostrils and you basked in the comfort it gave you; it smelled like home. kaminari’s smile returned to his face when he saw your body visibly relax at the newfound heath, even though goosebumps began to form on his skin by the sudden change of temperature. he could handle being cold for a few hours.

“there, now you won’t die of hypothermia.”

“but what about you?”

he shrugged, tilting his head to the side before answering, “it’s fine, it looks better on you anyways.”

you knew he probably meant it in a friendly way, but you couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat at the compliment. suddenly you felt all warm inside, and it wasn’t because of the jacket. but rather the effect your best friend had on you.

right.

the smile slowly disappeared from your face, replaced with a hurt expression instead.

that’s all we are.

realization dawned upon you quickly and you scolded yourself for almost believing something so irrational and overall stupid. but as he nudged your arm with his elbow and started talking to you about a new video game that had come out that exact same day, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he did so, you allowed yourself to hold on to that fantasy a little longer. after all, dreaming didn’t hurt anyone right?

and so, you spent the whole ride to school envisioning an universe in which kaminari returned your feelings for him. an universe in which he loved you just as much as you loved him and you didn’t have to worry about anything, because at least you had him. an universe in which you didn’t have to overthink every little thing he did, wondering whether or not he actually meant it or if he was being his usual flirty self. an universe in which you were able to call him yours.

when school ended and you found yourself at the bus station once again, with kaminari next to you, you began to take off the jacket, having it worn all day and deciding it was time to give it back. but kaminari’s hands stopped you, hovering on top of yours, before you could finish unzipping it. you looked at him questioningly, trying your best to ignore the erratic beating of your heart and the electricity you felt right where your hands were touching.

“you can keep it.” his words confused you even more.

“what? no. it’s your jacket, you’ll get cold and besides it’s-”

“oh please don’t act like you don’t love wearing my clothes.” his tone was teasing, yet knowingly eyes scanned your face and you looked away, a hint of blush across your cheeks.

“whatever, but don’t expect to get it back.” kaminari laughed, his hands leaving your own and you had to hold back from taking it and interlacing your fingers together.

as you parted ways, walking in opposite directions to head back to your houses after a long day at school, you hugged yourself for the second time that day. this time, actually being able to feel warm. both inside and out.

—

« but I watch your eyes

as she walks by

what a sight for sore eyes

brighter than the blue sky

she’s got you mesmerized

while I die »

YOU and kaminari told each other everything, well at least most things. so it didn’t surprise you when he started rambling about yet another girl. don’t get me wrong, you loved him to death, but you had to admit that the boy could be quite unlucky with the ladies, much to own your luck that is. but this time was different and you both knew it. you noticed it in the way he smiled whenever he talked about her, how he was able to light up from just hearing her name, and most importantly, the way he looked at her. and you immediately knew. because it was the same way you looked at him.

she was your classmate and friend, and you could totally understand why kaminari was so smitten with her. she was funny, smart, caring, beautiful; in other words everything you weren’t. and while it’s true you knew it was bad to be envious of people, specially your friends, you simply couldn’t not wish to be her. i mean come on, not only did she have an awesome quirk you had no chance of competing against, she also had the boy you loved wrapped around her finger and she wasn’t even aware of it.

“and then when he was about to- denki, are you even listening?” he wasn’t, but you didn’t want to admit that.

“hm? oh sorry! what were you saying?” his pretty amber eyes looked at you for only a split second, before going back to admire the dark purpled haired girl.

jirou stood a few feet away from you guys, talking and laughing with sero and mina. you could feel your heart slowly breaking as you saw kaminari’s lips curl into a small smile when she briefly looked at him, waving at him in the process. and of course you didn’t miss the way she blushed.

“ah it’s nothing important anyways.”

“hey y/n, do you think i should ask jirou out?”

oh.

you were pretty certain you stopped breathing once your brain registered his words. how could he be so oblivious?! you had been friends since fucking middle school and you were supposed to believe that he never once noticed how hopelessly in love you were with him? did you not show it enough? were you that bad at displaying your love for people? or was he just ridiculously dumb? you desperately hoped it was the latter, because deep down a part of you still believed that there was a possibility for you two. that an us could be possible if you just showed him how serious you were about him.

but the rational part of you was screaming at you to stop being so damn stupid, to finally open your eyes and realize kaminari didn’t and would never reciprocate your feelings. that you were hoping for the impossible to happen, that you were preparing yourself for absolute heartbreak if you thought for a second he would choose you over her. and while you wanted nothing more than to yell at him for being so dense, for not seeing that you were right there, you simply couldn’t. so you went with the safer option.

“y-yeah, you should. i’m sure she’ll say yes.” you were able to muster a smile, and despite the lump in your throat, you feel happiness surge through you as he turns around and gives you a big smile.

“you think so? but what if she says no?”

“any girl would be lucky to have you, denki. you’re sweet, cool, and funny. what more could a girl ask for?” you were only half joking, but of course he didn’t notice.

“well if you say it like that it just sounds like you have a crush on me.” he winked at you and you swore you were about to pass out. not only because of the wink, but because of his sudden implication. (which was a fact)

“you wish,” you snort to make it seem more real, and it seems to work because kaminari’s now pouting at you. “now go get em’ tiger.”

“please don’t say that again.”

“wow okay, cold.”

he stood up, taking a deep breath before walking over to jirou, starting off with a joke as he leaned down on her desk and, as much as she tried to stifle it, a loud laugh escaped her. apparently kaminari’s charm didn’t only work on you. but oh how you wished it did because that way you would be the one getting asked out right now, not her. quite frankly, you would give anything to have him look at you the way he was looking at her right now, as if she was some mystical creature. or better yet, as if he was under some kind of love spell that made him unable to look at anyone else like that.

from the other corner of the classroom, a certain red haired guy looked at you with pity in his eyes, but also concern. he made his way to you, sitting down in kaminari’s previous spot. you sent him a, clearly fake, smile when you noticed it was none other than kirishima, one of your best friends. but he saw right through that.

“hey,” his voice was soft and low, he didn’t exactly want the whole class to know about what was going on. “are you okay?”

you gulped, but still nodded. “of course, why wouldn’t i be?” another fake smile.

“don’t give me that bullshit y/n. you don’t need to lie to me.” that was all you needed to hear before dropping the act, your smile quickly being replaced with a frown and kirishima’s heart hurt for you.

“this sucks,” you say under your breath, looking away towards their direction only to see kaminari playing with one of jirou’s earphone jacks, which obviously made the pain in your chest worsen. “i just want him to look at me the same way he looks at her,” tears began to sting at the corners of your eyes. “is that too much to ask for?” you asked no one in particular as you looked up to kirishima.

“it’s not, but you’ll be okay,” without thinking it twice, he hugged you and you didn’t fight back, instead welcoming the warmth his chest provided you and resting your head against one of his shoulders. “you know he doesn’t know y/n, if he did i’m sure things would be different.”

“i know, but it’s fine. i just want him to be happy.”

even if it’s not with me.

but you don’t say that, preferring to just stay on kirishima’s arms a little longer while trying to ignore the two love birds giggling behind you, your heart breaking more and more each time you heard kaminari’s sweet words. because they weren’t for you, they were for her.

—

« why would you ever kiss me?

i’m not even half as pretty

you gave her your sweater

it’s just polyester

but you like her better

wish i were heather »

HIDING your emotions was something you mastered pretty well by now. you spent years keeping your feelings for kaminari to yourself and you didn’t mind at all; you had come to terms with the fact that this crush was probably one sided a long time ago. so, why did you suddenly felt the need to tell him? it never bothered you, but now, after having to see him every day making heart eyes at her and hear him talk about how cool she was, you thought maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. you just wanted him to have the option; he deserved to know right? or maybe you were just hoping that he would choose you over her. just like you would choose him over anyone in a heartbeat.

but to be honest, you didn’t know what you would do with yourself if he didn’t. if he chose her over you while knowing you loved him too. what if she meant more to him than you did? what if he thought you were outright weird and things became awkward? what if your friendship wasn’t as special as you thought it was? you shook your head, hands coming up to your temples to try and get rid of some of the tension. no, that couldn’t be. you knew he loved you...at least as a friend.

it had been 2 months already since kaminari and jirou started talking. they weren’t oficial yet, but you accidentally overheard her conversation with yaoyorozu a few days ago and heard her complaining about how she wished he finally made a move on her. that somehow relieved you because at least they hadn’t gotten physical yet, but at the same time you wondered if you were being a bad friend by thinking that. maybe you were, but you couldn’t help it. i mean you liked the boy for fucks sake, it was understandable that you weren’t exactly hoping for them to pounce on each other.

“where’s denki?” kirishima asked as he caught up with you in the hallway, both of you making your way to the new dorms.

“don’t know, he left before i could even ask him.” you tried your best to sound neutral, but you knew you didn’t do a good job when you heard kirishima sighing. however, much to your liking, he stayed quiet and didn’t say anything about it, changing the topic to today’s events.

you were grateful to have him; he was the only one who knew about your crush on kaminari and the only one who was able to take your mind off things even for just a little while. soon enough you found yourself laughing by his side as he talked about bakugou’s weird antics and how hot-headed he could be at times, which you had experienced firsthand.

“he was all like ‘hey shitty hair, if you’re not gonna do a good work then fuck off!’ like man calm down, i didn’t even do anything.” you giggled at his accurate impersonation of the angry blonde. shaking your head as you looked up, noticing you were already at the dorms building.

you squinted your eyes when you saw two people standing right in front of the main entrance, but couldn’t make out their faces thanks to the long distance. yet the closer you got, the better you could see them. and once your eyes focused on the couple completely, everything stopped.

it was them.

they were kissing.

right in front of you.

his arms were wrapped around her waist, holding her close to him as if he never wanted to let her go, and her own were wrapped around his neck, caressing his soft blonde hair which you loved to ruffle whenever he laid down on your lap.

they looked so beautiful, straight out of a cheesy romcom movie. the sun was beginning to set and its rays reflected on their skin perfectly, making them look golden. and in that precise moment you realized just how beautiful jirou was and how much she complimented kaminari in every sense of the word. could it be that they were made for each other?

before you knew it, a single tear rolled down your cheek, and you weakly smiled at kirishima when he opened his mouth to try and comfort you, yet no words seemed to come out. because he knew that no matter what he said, the damage was already done. the couple hadn’t even noticed you two, too immersed in their own little world as they giggled and made their way inside, all while holding each other’s hands.

“they make a good couple, don’t they?” you fixed your eyes on your shoes, holding back the sobs that desperately wanted to escape you.

“y/n…” kirishima’s tone was sad, mostly because he didn’t know what to do, but also because he understood perfectly the pain you were going through. he had been experiencing it for a while now.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, kiri.” you sent him another smile, but right when you started walking towards the entrance he managed to see the tears falling down your cheeks as you bit down on your lower lip.

and somehow, that kiss proved to you that you could never beat her, that she had won over kaminari’s heart. something you could never do.

—

« watch as she stands with her holding your hand

put your arm 'round her shoulder,

now I'm getting colder

but how could I hate her?

she’s such an angel

but then again, kinda wish she were dead »

PEOPLE often say one’s happiness shouldn’t relay on others and you had always been a firm believer of that, knowing that people were unpredictable and that they could change at any moment given. so it was only reasonable that you made yourself happy, without needing to depend on other people, yet that didn’t really add up with your current situation. it made you look like a hypocrite.

ever since jirou and kaminari started dating, you had been spending less and less time together. the only time you could have him all to yourself was when you occasionally paired up during training and even then you didn’t really talk much. you were happy everything had worked out for them, and you loved to see kaminari happy, but it hurt you. it hurt so much, to the point that sometimes it was hard to get out of bed.

you missed your best friend. and you knew it was selfish, but did it even matter at this point? did he he notice how you talked less and less? how you barely smiled anymore? of course he didn’t. he was too busy looking at her anyways, too busy going on dates and learning how to play the guitar just for her. his girlfriend.

and as much as you wanted to hate them both, you didn’t have it in you. why would you? because they were happy and in love? you weren’t that desperate. but sometimes, as you watched her throw her head back while she laughed at something kaminari said, you wished he had never met her. you wished you never came to UA in the first place, that way they wouldn’t have met and you would probably still have your best friend by your side. no. even if he hadn’t met her, you knew he would never go for a girl like you.

these past few months had been hell for you, you barely left your room unless it was for school, your eating habits couldn’t have gotten any worse, and you weren’t getting any sleep, too busy crying your eyes out as you wondered what the hell you did wrong. and you knew what you were doing wasn’t healthy, but a part of you wished that something really bad happened to you just so kaminari would pay attention to you again. but he didn’t.

today was one of those days, you didn’t feel like getting up your bed just to watch a dumb movie with your classmates, and possible have to witness jirou and kaminari being all lovey dovey right in front of you. the thought alone was enough to make you roll your eyes, scoffing at how much the pair loved PDA.

“come on y/n! it’ll be so fun.” kirishima was currently trying to convince you to go watch a movie with the rest of class 1-A in the common room, but as expected you denied his invitation. “even bakugou is going!”

“then you’ll be more than fine without me.”

“i’ll miss you tho.” he gave you puppy eyes and you groaned, placing your pillow over your face.

“since when are you so cheesy?”

“stop trying to change the subject,” a frustrated sigh left his lips, and you lowered your pillow to look at him. he was sitting down on the floor with his legs crossed, a frown evident on his face. “i know you don’t wanna talk about it, but you can’t keep on like this y/n.” you flinched slightly at his serious tone.

“i know,” this time it was you who sighed, weighing your options in your head. you knew kirishima was right and he was trying his best to make you feel better, so the least you could do was make him some company. “okay fine,” his head turned in your direction, looking at you hopefully. “i’ll go, but it better be a good movie.”

“yes! you won’t regret it, i promise. and if at some point you wanna leave, then we’ll leave, but you have to at least try.” your heart swelled at his consideration; he was too sweet to you and you didn’t deserve it at all.

“you don’t have to do that, kiri.”

“but i want to. i know it’s not easy, so i’m proud of you for doing this.” his words made a lump appear in your throat. maybe you were being overly sensitive, but hearing him say that meant a lot.

it wasn’t long before the clock striked 9PM and everyone started making their way to the common room, chatting happily as they sat down and got everything ready for the night. you watched as people started to take a seat, whether it was on the couches or on the floor, and you started to get a bit anxious when you noticed kaminari walking down the stairs, but jirou was nowhere to be seen. thankfully.

as much as you tried to not let him have an effect on you, your heart still skipped a beat whenever you saw him. it was truly inevitable, but what you hated the most was knowing you had no effect on him whatsoever.

before you could look away and hide from his view, kaminari spotted you. he sent you a big smile, waving his hand before walking over to where you stood. ok, calm down act normal. it’s just denki. you tried to calm yourself down, but your breath hitched in your throat when you suddenly felt his arms engulf you in a tight hug, your arms slowly coming up to his neck to return the gesture. you would be lying if you said you hadn’t miss this feeling. the feeling of being home again.

but it ended way too fast for your liking.

“hey you! we haven’t hung out in a while, i miss you.”

because you’re too busy with your girlfriend, asshole.

“yeah sorry about that, i’ve been kinda busy i guess.” your tone was off and he noticed, but he brushed it off. maybe she’s tired.

“then what are you doing tomorrow? we can go to the mall or wherever you want to.” your head quickly shot up, looking at him with nothing but hope in your eyes.

“really?”

“of course! we need to have some bestie time.” the wink he sent you was playful, but your lips still curved into a smile from hearing him saying he wanted to spend time with you.

“then maybe we can go to this new-”

“hey babe i saved you a seat,” out of the blue, jirou appeared right next to kaminari, slipping her hand into his. and your heart clenched when you noticed he held it back tightly. “oh, hi y/n!” she sent you a warm, genuine smile, and you felt so bad for wanting her to feel your pain.

“hi jirou.”

“i was just telling y/n about how we should hang out.” you frowned at him, is he inviting her?

“oh? where did you plan on going?”

“i told her she should pick.”

“well that sounds even more fun, any ideas?”

“actually i just remembered i got some homework to finish.” it was a lie, but you didn’t have it in you to third wheel on what was supposed to be a date with your best friend.

“what?” kaminari asked you, not understanding you sudden change in attitude.

“yeah, maybe next time tho.” he wanted to ask what was wrong, but as he opened his mouth to do so, you saw kirishima walking towards the common room with bakugou and took that as your cue to leave the awkward encounter.

“well that was weird.” he mumbled to himself and jirou looked at him questioningly, wondering what he meant.

“hm? what was that babe?” the blonde shook his head, convincing himself he was probably overthinking things. he placed his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder before walking over to one of the couches. to be more precise, the couch in front of yours.

you sat beside kirishima, your leg bouncing up and down anxiously as you waited for iida to finally play the goddamn movie so you had something else to pay attention to instead of them. kirishima quickly noticed the unusual movement and was about to ask you what was wrong, but once he saw where your gaze was locked on, it didn’t take him long to put two and two together.

he knew better than to ask you in front of everyone if you were okay, so he just gave your knee a light squeeze, which you highly appreciated and let him know so by smiling at him. after a few minutes that felt like eternity, iida played the movie and told everyone to not make any unnecessary noises and be considerate of your classmates which made you scoff slightly.

twenty minutes into the movie and everything was going great so far. you had actually managed to get immersed in the plot and found yourself leaning your head against kirishima’s shoulder to get a better view, but also because the effect of not having a stable sleeping schedule was dawning on you. however, just when you thought you were about to fall asleep on your friend’s comfortable shoulder, you heard some giggles. you opened your eyes slowly, frowning when you saw kaminari leaving small kisses on jirou’s neck. your heart felt like it was being stabbed for the hundredth time and you tried to ignore them and just focus on the tv screen. you really tried to remain calm, to keep up your act just as you had done all this months, but you lost it when you heard those three damn words leave his lips.

“i love you.”

it was low, barely even audible, but you heard it. you heard it loud and clear. and just like that, with your heart losing every last bit of hope it had, you stood up from your seat abruptly, making everyone look at you, before making your way upstairs without saying another word. all of your classmates looked between them, not only confused, but also concerned.

“oi shitty hair,” bakugou spoke from his place next to kirishima, who looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “go check up on her.” he muttered and kirishima only nodded before walking upstairs to follow you.

bakugou’s words worried kaminari even more, was there something going on with you that he didn’t know about? was that why you were acting so weird earlier? no way, you told him everything. you were best friends after all...right? and with that question on his mind, he couldn’t focus on the movie or his girlfriend anymore.

you walked towards your room silently, even though you wanted nothing more than to scream and fight someone. you wanted, no, needed to let all of your pent up frustration out. you had been patient enough, putting his happiness before your own for years now, and while you knew it wasn’t his fault at all, you wanted to be mad at him about something. you wanted him to understand that this wasn’t fair, that you could be good for him if he gave you the chance, that you wouldn’t be a waste of his time, but the only thing that was coming out of you were tears.

angry tears stained your face as they furiously ran down your cheeks, reminding you of all the sleepless nights you spent alone, crying your heart out to no one but yourself. you stood in front of your room, hand reaching out to the door’s knob to open it and spend yet another night wondering why the hell you weren’t enough. but a hand stopped you.

kirishima’s grip on your forearm was gentle, but firm enough to let you know he wasn’t going anywhere, and somehow, his touch made you want to cry even more. you tried to push him away, telling him that you were perfectly fine, yet your bloodshot eyes told a whole different story. and as much as you kicked and screamed, kirishima knew the last thing you needed was to be alone.

“let go!” seeing that holding your arms had no effect on you whatsoever, he tried a different approach. his strong arms hugged you to his chest, and, as much as you wanted to deny it, you found comfort in them. “i said let me go, kirishima.”

“no. y/n listen to me. you need to stop bottling all your feelings up, nothing good will come out of that,” you finally started to relax, breathing heavily as you listened to his words. “it doesn’t matter if you talk, cry, or scream, but you need to voice out how you feel. if it’s not to him, then tell me. i’m always ready to listen.” his voice was so gentle, so soft, yet it held so much emotion and honesty.

more tears fell down your cheeks as you gripped kirishima’s shirt tightly against your fingers, your face hiding comfortably on his chest.

“i can’t take this anymore kiri,” you started talking and kirishima was quick to hug you a little tighter, one of his hands rubbing small circles on the small of your back. “i miss him so much, i miss my best friend. and i want him to be happy, i really do, but why must his happiness cause me so much pain?” a sob racked through your whole body after hearing yourself say those words, the ones you never thought you’d voice out to someone. “at first it was fine and i didn’t mind that much, but now? we barely even talk anymore, and when we do it’s always small talk. and we used to talk for hours about everything and anything, we would never get bored when we were together. now it’s like i don’t even exist to him except for when he seems to have some time to spare. did our friendship meant shit to him? because fuck i wasted years of my life loving someone who can’t even notice how much i’ve been struggling.”

by this point your tears had stained kirishima’s shirt almost completely, but he couldn’t give less of a fuck about that. all that mattered was you and only you. the only thought on his mind was how he was gonna make you feel better. so he held you in his arms a little longer, hoping that somehow his actions could express everything he felt. his free hand came up to caress your hair while he shushed you softly, rocking you two back and forth.

that’s how the night ended.

you, with your heart broken in a million pieces, longing for the person who made you feel this way. because you knew you would always love him, maybe even more than you loved yourself. you knew that no matter how much you tried to hate him, you could never even get close to feeling anything but pure adoration for the boy. and if having him in your life implied having to handle all this heartache and hurt, then maybe you could endure it. because for him it was all worth it.

and a certain redhead with all his feelings caught in his throat. he wanted nothing more than to scream at you for not noticing he understood completely how you felt, way more than you imagined, yet he knew that you would always only have eyes for him. but perhaps that was okay. if the only way to be close to you was comforting you because you loved a guy who was too dense to see what he had in front of him, then so be it. in the end it was all worth it for you.

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quokkacore · 3 years

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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fandombitxh-derogatory · 2 years

Text

Analogical Week 2022

Virgil and Logan meet and talk and, perhaps, fall in love.

Chapter summary: Virgil and Logan meet, and Virgil gives Logan his number in a moment of confidence. Then he has a slight mental breakdown at home with his roommates, Remus and Janus.

Chapter 1:

on ao3: HERE

or read here!

Virgil met Logan when the other had come in during one of his many shifts at the animal shelter. Logan was questioning what the volunteer work that the animal shelter offered to people who were interested looked like and how to become involved, so Virgil was quick to inform Logan of their policies and other necessary information. He wasn't quite sure what it was about the serious man that drew him in, but, at the end of their interaction, Virgil gave Logan his number in a rare moment of confidence. When Logan smiled at the piece of paper and promised to text, Virgil could have sworn that his heart stopped in his chest. The feeling was different from panic, yet was painfully familiar in a sense.

Honestly, what was he even thinking? The guy had come in once and Virgil gave him his number? What if he was a creep or something that was just manipulative enough to make Virgil feel safe without setting off his anxiety?

Virgil forced himself to take some deep breaths and focus on feeding all of the animals in the shelter as his shift was coming to a close. He kept his mind and hands occupied as the next shift of workers were clocking in and preparing for their oncoming shifts before he clocked out and started his walk to the bus stop. The sun was just starting to set at 5 pm, with winter well on its way. He pulled his jacket tighter against himself as he waited for his bus to take him to the bus stop near his house.

The bus pulled up, and Virgil found a seat by himself near the back. He pulled out his headphones and phone in order to block out whatever ungodly sounds the other people on the bus were sure to make once they stopped at a more populated bus stop before he could get off, just like always. However, when he pulled out his phone, there was a text waiting for him.

From: Unknown Number

Hello, Virgil. It’s Logan from earlier today. I wanted to contact you before I possibly lost the paper with your number on it. I look forward to when you reach out in return.

Virgil’s breath caught slightly at the message. Clearly, this guy texted just like he talked (in an oddly formal fashion), but it was weirdly endearing to have a grammatically correct text waiting on his phone for him to respond to. Virgil quickly pulled up his music and started playing it as loud as he could without anyone being able to hear it through his headphones before starting to type out a reply.

To: Logan (Cute & Serious)

Hi, it’s good to know that you weren’t uncomfortable with me giving you my number. How are you?

There, a decent reply that wasn’t too impersonal, but not overly friendly either. Although it did feel weird for Virgil to use proper grammar while texting, he figured that, since Logan used it, he should too. As the bus stopped at a more populated bus stop, Virgil put his phone away to ignore for the rest of his trip. Just another habit he picked up that helped him feel more in control of his anxiety.

After a while, Virgil started to recognize the area he could see outside of his window, which meant that it would be his stop next. He got up and, as gently as he could, shoved his way through the crowd of people on the bus. Once the bus stopped, he got off as quickly as he could in order to start his walk back to the apartment he shared with his two friends, Janus and Remus.

Virgil checked his phone as he walked, skipping a song that he didn't want to listen to, and saw another text waiting for him.

From: Logan (Cute & Serious)

I am doing quite well, although I will be working more hours soon which will be stressful. And you?

Virgil let out a small smile, and quickly typed back as he pulled his keys out of his pocket to unlock the apartment.

To: Logan (Cute & Serious)

Just got home, so I have some time before my roommates come back and bother me about whatever they'll be talking about today. What do you do for work?

From: Logan (Cute & Serious)

I work as an astrophysicist, and we'll be receiving a large amount of new data soon, which will have to be processed.

To: Logan (Cute & Serious)

Cool! I'd ask you more questions, but I doubt I'd understand your answers 😅

From: Logan (Cute & Serious)

I'd be more than happy to explain things you are curious about.

Virgil couldn't stop staring at the text he had received while getting changed in his bedroom. He felt warmth spread across his chest and face before he face planted on his bed, squealing into the pillow like a teenager with their first crush. He felt kind of pathetic, but no one was there to wotness it except God so who cared? God could tune into some other person's life of they didn't want to see Virgil make a fool out of himself over a guy he just met.

Virgil heard the apartment door unlock and the distinct voices of his roommates, so he took a deep breath before texting Logan back.

To: Logan (Cute & Serious)

That'd be great. I gotta go right now, though, but I'll text soon. Bye

Virgil put his phone down before walking out to the living room. Janus was watching Remus with disgust as the other was taking his shoes off, showing off his socks with a mayo bottle pattern on them and several small holes in the toes and heels. As Virgil walked out, Janus's attention turned to him and raised his eyebrows.

"What happened?" Janus asked, making Remus look up at Virgil as well.

Virgil shifted his weight between his feet and shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets before saying, "I met a guy."

Remus perked up and loudly asked, "Really? Where?"

"Work. I gave him my number and we've been texting since I got off work."

Janus's expression shifted ever so slightly from scrutiny to surprise, "Oh my… you never do that. Not since."

"I know, but… I, uh, really like him."

"That's so cute!" Remus exclaimed, getting up off the ground and excitedly grabbing Virgil's shoulders. "Are you gonna go for it?"

Virgil huffed, looking to the side, "I don't know. I kinda just want to get to know him as friends first."

Remus hummed, releasing Virgil and shrugging, "Fair enough." He, then, grabbed his things and rushed towards his and Janus's shared room. The only reason that Virgil got his own room was because Remus and Janus had something going on together. Virgil wasn't quite sure what it was, considering both of them claimed they weren't dating, but there was definitely something there.

Virgil turned to Janus, who asked, "What's he like?"

"He's…" Virgil hesitated for a moment, shifting again, before answering, "He's an astrophysicist. He's very serious, and he seems… reliable and… genuine."

Janus looks Virgil up and down, "You really do like him."

"Yeah, I haven't felt like this since… him." Virgil took a deep breath. "It's terrifying."

Janus smiled slightly, patting Virgil's shoulder as he walked past to his bedroom. Virgil slouched farther, before grabbing a bottle of water and heading back to his bedroom. He looked at his phone, a text from Logan waiting.

Alright, I look forward to talking to you more.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #analogical #virgil sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #meet cute #alternate universe - humans #fluff #roommates/housemates #mentioned toxic ex-boyfriend #analogical week 2022

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seijorhi · 4 years

Note

hello, i love your writing and was hoping if u could write a yandere kuroo x reader where he corners her in a corner and kenma is there and is getting off from it 😳 thank u !

Asdfghjkl this was supposed to be posted on Sunday I’m sorry, bby!! I hope it’s worth the wait! 💕 also, loved this request so thanks for sending it in 😊

Kuroo Tetsuro x Female Reader, Kenma Kozume x Female Reader

TW dub con, coercion (kinda?), stalking, humiliation

Helping Hand

There’s a certain peace you find in the looming stacks of the library after the sun sets. It’s quieter then, less people milling about. You don’t have to fight for space or books, and considering you have midterms soon and essays coming out of your ears, that makes it the perfect study environment.

It’s only a little after eight, the library’s still open for another two and a half hours, but on the fourth floor it’s almost a ghost town - just how you like it. There’s a professor tucked away in the back corner, piles of books built up around him, an older librarian with her trolley, slowly re-shelving books, and two other guys around your age sitting huddled at a table a few down from yours - the textbooks and highlights spread across their desk having been long since abandoned in favour of literally anything else.

Honestly, you’d wonder why they’d bother coming to the library at all if it wasn’t an almost daily occurrence. Most days you were there, so were they - usually together, although it wasn’t uncommon to see just one of them camped out between the stacks as you made your way to your desk. The duo, one tall and lean with a shock of messy dark hair that always looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, and the other smaller, more reserved, with bleached hair and dark roots in serious need of a touch up, seemed to prefer this time to study too - not that they ever seemed to actually do all that much studying.

Usually the blonde ends up absorbed in his switch while the other casually thumbs through whichever book is closest.

So long as they were quiet and didn’t disturb you, who were you to judge?

You don’t really remember when they’d started to appear, only that they’d quickly become a fixture in your refuge - distantly familiar presences like strangers travelling on the same bus to work each day. They smile (well, the dark haired one does) and nod whenever you happen to look up from your notes and catch their eye, and while you’ve only spoken a handful of words to the both of them, they always seemed nice.

Nicer than the clearly overworked professor muttering away in the corner at any rate, which makes them the logical choice to approach when you find your bladder uncomfortably full halfway through your self imposed study session. Realistically, you know at this time of the night nobody else is likely to make their way up to the fourth floor, much less have any interest in your shitty, old laptop or the five whole dollars in your wallet - yet you find you making your way over to the twosome’s table anyway, a faint blush dusting across your cheeks.

“… don’t want to,” you overhear the blonde mutter, his attention wholly focused upon the game in his hands. “Things are fine, why change that?”

His friend sighs, “Because you can deny it all you want, but I know you better than that. I know I’m not the only one who wants more. You can’t just sit back and…” he trails off suddenly, hazel eyes flickering over to you in surprise.

Confused by his friend’s sudden silence, the blonde lowers his game and glances up - only to still at the sight of you.

You swallow down your nerves, plastering what you hope is a friendly enough smile across your face, “Hi, uh… sorry to interrupt you guys, but would you mind watching my stuff for a few minutes while I go to the bathroom? I won’t be long or anything, I just don’t like leaving my stuff out in the open,” you say with a sheepish laugh, well aware that you’re rambling like an idiot.

It’s the dark haired one who answers, a wide grin breaking across his face as he nods, “Yeah, no worries. We’d be glad to.”

You smile back, ignoring the faint fluttering in your stomach (he does look kind of cute grinning like that), thanking him again before rushing away in the direction of the bathroom.

It doesn’t take long for your thoughts to drift away from the duo back to the essay you’re mid-way through drafting. You have a sinking feeling that the argument you’re trying to use in the fourth paragraph is essentially a just rehash of the point you made in the first. By the time you unlock the stall door and make your way over to the sink to wash your hands, you’re starting to debate the merits of scrapping the whole thing and starting fresh with new ideas.

You still technically have time, it’s not due until the end of the month, but you just kind of want it done so you don’t have to think about it anymore. Then again, that’s kind of your feelings towards the semester as a whole.

Who are you kidding? University’s kicking your ass this year.

The ancient hand dryer’s almost deafening as it clicks on - it masks the sound door swinging open and the footsteps that echo out from the tile floors.

It’s only when your eyes flicker up to mirror that you see that you’re no longer alone-

Standing right behind you is the guy from before; the tall, dark haired one.

- and jerk in surprise, stumbling backwards with a choked yelp.

It doesn’t hit you right away - no, that’s relief that has you drawing a hand over your chest and letting out a shaking laugh. “You scared the hell out of me!” you say, bracing yourself over the sink to try and calm your breathing.

No, it doesn’t hit you quickly. Realisation is slow - creeping through your veins like ice as your eyes flicker back up the mirror.

He hasn’t moved.

He’s smiling, grinning really, but there’s something… something off about it. It doesn’t quite meet his eyes… Why isn’t he saying anything?

W-why isn’t he moving away?

Your heart, still hammering from his shock of his sudden appearance, squeezes uncomfortably and your eyes slowly widen.

“Wh-”

A rough, calloused palm slaps across your mouth, smothering whatever words you’d been about to speak. “Ah, ah. Gotta keep it down, sweetheart.”

He winks at you in the mirror, taking a tiny step towards you and you squeak, breathing in sharp, shallow pants through your nose as a warm, muscled chest presses against your back. “You’re a nervous little thing, aren’tcha?” he chuckles. “Relax a little - promise I don’t bite.”

With one hand wrapped around your lips the other creeping across your waist, his words don’t exactly bring you a lot of comfort.

It makes no difference either way - you’re paralysed, shaking and trembling, but utterly unable to move as he noses at the column of your throat, his warm breath tickling your skin.

You could scream, but there’s no guarantee anybody would hear you. You could try and fight him off, but he’s taller than you, and you’re willing to bet stronger as well.

Will he hurt you if you try and resist?

Is he gonna hurt you anyway?

You’ve heard the stories before about men who follow women into empty bathrooms and the awful things they do, but you never...

Those things don’t happen in places like this. The library is supposed to be safe, he- he’s been-

Your stomach drops.

Weeks.

He’s been visiting the library with his friend, sitting across from you for weeks.

His eyes bore into your reflection in the mirror like he can hear every terrified thought that passes through your head, and with excruciating slowness you’re forced to watch as his lips brush a kiss against your cheek, lingering and sweet - a mockery of tenderness.

A scared little whimper is all you can manage, and even that is swallowed up by the sound of the bathroom door squeaking open once more.

Your heart skips a beat, eyes widening.

A faint burst of hope flickers to life.

You might not be a fighter, but this might be the only chance you have. You shriek again, the sound woefully muffled, and writhe against your captor’s tightening grip as slow footsteps round the corner.

Please, you think as tears stream silently down your face. Please help me.

What little hope you have is quickly - brutally - extinguished as your would be saviour steps into view.

Your legs shake and you’re almost positive that if it wasn’t for the strong arms wrapped around you, you would have crumpled to the floor.

It’s his friend, the blonde, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, watching the scene before him - you struggling against an iron grip, gagged and terrified - like it’s nothing out of the ordinary.

Your captor chuckles, relaxing his grip as his hand drifts upwards to palm at your breast and you want to die. “Glad you finally decided to grace us with your presence.”

“Shut up, Kuroo,” the blonde groans as he makes his way over, but he barely glances at his friend before his catlike eyes come to rest on you.

Your cheeks are burning, a potent mix of shame, nausea and dread churning in your stomach as you’re crudely felt up, but under the blonde’s attention you freeze.

While his face is a blank mask of apathetic disinterest, those golden irises are piercing in their intensity as they study you.

The glint in his eyes is as unmistakable as it is stark; anticipation - like a house cat watching a golden canary flit restlessly in its cage.

The hiccuping sob comes unbidden, choking at your throat as you wail against the palm at your lips. You’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your entire life, to slap yourself awake and realise that it’s nothing but a stress induced nightmare because this can’t be happening.

Why you?

What could you possibly have done to deserve this?

“Relax,” Kuroo repeats, leaning down over you again, “we’re not gonna hurt you. Just wanna have some fun, that’s all.” You think he’s going to try and kiss you again, but instead his tongue darts out and he licks at the silvery tear tracks, groaning softly.

You shoot the quiet blonde a desperate, pleading look. He hasn’t lifted a finger to stop what’s happening, hasn’t done anything other than stare at you, but even as his lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smile you hold out on the shadow of a prayer that maybe, just maybe-

Kuroo follows your wide, panicked gaze and almost snorts. “You’re barking up the wrong tree there, baby. Kenma’s not gonna help you. He wants this just as badly as I do.” His thumb slides across your cheek, brushing away more tears, “C’mon, on your knees.”

He doesn’t give you a choice - the hand on your shoulder forces your shaking knees to buckle and you fall down to the bathroom floor.

The tiles are cold against your bare legs, but the shivers that wrack through you have little to do with the temperature. It’s far too late to regret the short skirt you’d thrown on that morning.

Kuroo hums appreciatively, lifting his palm to tap it a few times against your cheek like you’re an adorable little puppy who’s just learned its first trick, “It’s a good look for you, baby, but I think it’d be even better without this-” his fingers tug at the collar of your top and his grin widens, “- in the way.”

Yet he makes no move to take it off for you. One look into his eyes, the glittering amusement darkened with lewd desire and you know that he won’t.

He wants you to do it, to play along in their fun - to be an active participant in your own humiliation.

And really, what other choice do you have?

It’s impossible to ignore the bulge straining against his jeans as your trembling fingers grip the hem of your top and reluctantly yank it upwards. There’s a sharp inhale - Kuroo you think - and a whistle as it comes off, baring your lacy bra and the soft skin underneath to their hungry gazes.

Only for a moment.

Staring resolutely at the floor you’re quick to try and cover what little modesty you have left, bringing your arms up to wrap around your chest-

Except a hand catches at your wrist and tugs it back, and when you glance up you find it’s Kenma’s.

“… Don’t,” he murmurs. “I want to see you.”

You let your arms drop, hands clenching into shaking fists in your lap, fingernails biting into your palm.

The sound of a zipper being pulled undone is almost deafening in the quiet bathroom. Fresh tears sting at your eyes, but you can’t bear to look at either of them as Kuroo reaches inside his pants and frees his cock.

The hand that cups your cheek is surprisingly gentle as he coaxes your face back towards him and the achingly hard member in his grip. “See Kenma, I told you - change ain’t always a bad thing.”

His dark eyes flicker back to you and he grins, “Open up, sweetheart.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kuroo #yandere kuroo x reader #yandere kenma #yandere kenma x reader #yandere #yandere kuroo tetsuro #yandere kuroo tetsuro x reader #female reader #yandere kenma kozume #yandere kenma kozume x reader #kenma x reader #kuroo x reader #tw dub con #tw implied stalking #tw humiliation #kuroo x reader x kenma

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gamergirl929 · 4 years

Text

A Soulmate’s Touch (Tobin Heath x Reader)

Anonymous Request: A Tobin imagine showing the progression of being strangers on the same team to asking her out.

Two souls, parting in a past life again meet when you leave Arsenal to come to the US to join the USWNT, two souls reunite with a simple touch.

The second you step onto the bus, your eyes locked your heart skipping a beat as the Portland Thorn, and your newest teammate on the USWNT, Tobin Heath, sends you a soft smile, her brown orbs just as soft and shining slightly.

Christen’s green orbs dart from Tobin, to you and back, the woman’s lips splitting in a grin as she gives her best friend a nudge.

“She’s cute. Maybe she’s the one...” She whispers and Tobin huffs, bottom lip jutting out in a pout.

“Shut up Chrisssss...” She whines and Christen giggles.

You glance around nervously before taking an empty seat, you’d just recently been leant to the NWSL, coming from overseas where you’d played for Arsenal.

Being so new, you didn’t really know anyone on the USWNT, you were hoping, with camp, that this would change.

Unbeknownst to you, Emily Sonnett has turned to Tobin with a mischievous grin, the forward’s eyes widening as Emily moves to her feet.

Tobin sticks a foot out to block her, having the desired effect though a little more than she wanted considering Sonnett flops to the bus’s floor with a thud.

You look down at the floor the blonde groaning loudly as she grabs her head.

“I was going to introduce myself, but Tobin tried to kill me.” She whines and you grin, glancing at Tobin, the woman’s cheeks blood red.

“I did not!” She squeaks and you smirk, looking down at Sonnett, grabbing her hand and helping her to her feet.

“You did too!” She stomps her foot and you giggle, the forward’s scrunched up face adorable.

“Nice to meet you by the way.” The blonde grins and you beam.

“You too.”

Tobin huffs, flopping down in her seat.

Emily smirks as she moves to her seat.

“I got her to giggle, that’s something.”

“Shut up.”

***

Camp had been a lot more light hearted than you expected, the USWNT players always laughing with their coaches, yes, the skirmishes were serious, but still it was more fun than you thought it would be.

You flopped down on the bench, covered in sweat as you watched your teammates play, each and every one of them masters at their craft, you knew deep down that you could never compete with them.

You can’t help but smile when you spot Ashlyn Harris’s sleeve, the tattoos forming on her arm when her and her wife, Ali Krieger touched at the same time as the story goes, same for the one on Ali’s forearm.

You take a deep breath, your eyes closing.

The stories go that when you touch your soulmate for the first time, a tattoo, related to their person burns into their skin.

Yeah, as a child the thought terrified you, but meeting your soulmate would be a dream come true.

“Y/N, you ready!?” Vlatko calls out and you jump to your feet.

“Always.”

You walk across the pitch, smiling when Tobin glances your way.

“I like this one.” She smiles, her fingertips brushing your forearm and you freeze.

Tobin drops to the ground first, grabbing the back of her neck as she cries out in pain, you following her seconds later, palming your left bicep.

“What’s wrong!?” Mallory yells as her and the rest of the USWNT run towards you, your teeth gritted in pain as you stare at your bare left arm, watching as your skin turns blood red.

Christen bats Tobin’s hands away, watching with wide eyes as a vertical line burns into the back of her neck, the word Love cutting across it to form a cross.

“Oh my god, you’re soulmates.”

Tobin had gotten the better end of the deal, considering her tattoo was so small.

Yours unfortunately was massive.

“It’s alright, it’ll be over soon.” Ashlyn whispers as she drops down beside you, watching as your skin darkens.

Your soul feels as if it’s trying to tear itself out of you to get to Tobin, though seeing as it’s unable to, it burns your skin, a searing pain that you’ll never forget, a reminder that Tobin Powell Heath is your soulmate.

Tobin crawls towards you, taking your hand, brown orbs glassy as she watches the tattoo burn its way onto your skin, multiple roses dotting your upper arm, blooming over thorn covered vines.

Tobin gently cups your cheek, leaning her forehead against yours as the tattoo burns its way to your neck before spreading, the searing pain ceasing as the thorned vines trail off down your back.

Tears stream down your cheeks as you pant heavily, pain thrumming through your body as beads of sweat run down your face.

Your eyes eventually flutter open, locking with Tobin’s watery brown orbs.

“That was definitely worse than mine.” Ashlyn whispers to Ali as you stare into Tobin’s brown orbs.

You open your mouth, ready to speak your eyes darting around your soulmate’s face.

“We’re-

The word barely leaves your mouth before you fall forwards, everyone’s eyes widening as you lose consciousness.

“Well fuck, you killed your soulmate.” Sonnett scoffs, everyone turning to her with a scowl, that is until you abruptly sit up, glancing around before you turn back to Tobin.

“We’re soulmates...?” You whisper and the Portland Thorn grins, resting her forehead against yours.

“Yeah... Yeah we are.”

***

It turned out meeting your soulmate was incredibly awkward.

Awkward because an absolute stranger, who you’d just met the same day was now the woman you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with, of course, you didn’t have to, but the universe had put the two of you together for some reason.

And for god’s sake, your soulmate was THE Tobin Heath.

“This should help.”

You inhale sharply, body sagging as the cool ice from the bag meets your stinging flesh.

Tobin takes a seat beside you on the bench and you smile, the woman taking the bag of ice off her neck and placing it on your bicep.

“S-Sorry it was so big...” She mumbles, cheeks flushing and you smile as you peek at hers, the line with Love written across the back of her neck, turning it into a cross.

“I like it.” You smile, the forward turning to you with a grin.

“Chris showed me a picture... Yours...” Tobin traces the tattoo with her eyes, as much as she can considering it runs from your upper arm, to your neck before disappearing down your back.

You watch as the woman swallows hard, her cheeks darkening further.

“Yours is beautiful.”

Tobin smiles as she holds her hand out, her smile splitting into a massive grin that makes the corner of her eyes crinkle.

“I’m Tobin. Tobin Heath.”

You take her hand, the feel of her palm against yours sending a jolt through your body, one you know Tobin feels.

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

***

The two of you completely agreed that jumping right into a relationship was not what you wanted, you wanted everything that came in between.

You still had to go through camp to SEE if you were even going to make it on the USWNT, but you were hopeful, you’d been giving it your all and you knew the coaches and staff had noticed.

“Are you nervous?”

You jump, turning to Tobin, the woman smiling softly.

“Incredibly.” You whisper, the forward taking a seat beside you on the hotel room’s bed.

Tobin takes a deep breath, your cheeks flushing as she places a hand on your back, right over where your tattoo had formed weeks ago.

You turn to her, eyes wide as you feel an all encompassing warmth spread through you.

She abruptly turns away, cheeks darkening as she jerks her hand away.

“S-S-Sorry...” She stammers and you smile.

“Don’t be, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

The two of you go silent for a second before Tobin sneaks a peek at you from the corner of her eye.

“They never say how awkward it is meeting your soulmate in the stories, do they?” Tobin asks and you giggle, the woman turning towards you, a massive grin nearly splitting her face in half as you laugh.

“No, no they don’t.”

***

You’d done it.

You were officially a part of the USWNT.

You couldn’t believe it at first, but when the others had made a beeline to you, you were absolutely stunned.

Tobin was of course, the happiest of all, the two of you had been growing closer and closer, you’d go so far as to say the two of you had become friends.

The woman beamed as she threw her arms around you and lifted you into the air, spinning you around excitedly when she’d got the news that you made the team.

“You look a little lost there.” You jump, glancing around, quickly realizing you’re on the field, in the middle of practice, and that you’d spaced out.

Unsurprisingly, Tobin had noticed, the woman had a habit of picking up on things you hadn’t ever even spoken to her about.

“How did you know I was spacing out?” You laugh and she snickers.

“A fly landed on you.” You roll your eyes, leaning against her.

A tingling sensation starts in your arm where the tattoo stains your skin, a feeling you know Tobin feels as well, the woman smiling as she rubs the back of her neck.

The two of you walk towards the sidelines, your skin buzzing, your cheeks flushing when you realize Tobin had linked her pinkie with yours, your cheeks flushing as you curl your pinkie around hers.

The buzzing spreads from your tattoo to the rest of your body, as if your souls are shaking with absolute glee at being together.

“Feels so nice.” Tobin mumbles, her cheeks flushed and you grin.

“It does.”

The two of you sit on the bench together, leaning against one another as your bodies hum, the two of you smiling softly, uncaring at the fact that everyone’s eyes are on you.

“What are they doing?” Kelley whispers and Ashlyn grins, turning to her wife.

“It’s a soulmate thing.”

***

The two of you rarely separated after that, touching each other in some way, your souls calling out to one another.

The feeling you got from touching was a pleasure you couldn’t describe.

It wasn’t sexual, no, it was intimate, yes, but it felt like being whole.

It felt like you just finished a jigsaw puzzle that had taken your whole life thus far to complete, the final piece slotting into place.

Tobin hums, leaning heavily against you on the bus.

“Does it make you feel sleepy?” She yawns and you grin, leaning against her, your head resting on top of hers.

“It’s just so relaxing.” You whisper, knowing if your souls could make a sound, they’d be purring, content and happy with one another.

You can feel when Tobin falls asleep, the woman leaning heavier against you and you smile, resting against her.

“Night Toby.” You whisper, your eye lids heavy as you too fall asleep.

***

“Do you uhhh...” Tobin swallows hard, glancing at Christen who nods, giving her a thumbs up as you watch Tobin with an arched brow.

“Yeah?” You chuckle and Tobin sighs.

“Do you want to ummm, share a room?” She mumbles and you grin, a bright smile that meets your eyes as you take Tobin’s hand.

“I’d love to.”

Tobin takes your bags eager, a charming smile on her face as she nods towards the elevator, you’re about to follow after her, but a hand on your wrist makes you still, its owner Christen Press, grinning.

“I hope you’re ready, she snores like a bear.” She whispers in your ear and you giggle, Tobin’s bottom lip jutted out in a pout.

“I do not.”

Kelley scoffs.

“Yeah, she does.”

Emily and Lindsey practically run towards the four of you, both grinning.

“Yeah, Tobin sounds like a chainsaw when she sleeps.”

Lindsey tilts her head back, her throat gurgling and Tobin frowns, her bottom lip jutting further out.

“Y/N, they’re picking on meeeee.” She whines and you snort.

“We’ll just have to see if they’re right.” You wink and her eyes widen, cheeks flushing.

“You’ll definitely do a lot more hearing than seeing because Tobin snores so loud it dulls the rest of your senses.” Alex, who’d joined the group giggles and Tobin pouts.

“Y/NNNNNNNNNNNNN.” She whines and you shake your head, smiling.

“Come on whiny.”

“I am not whiny.”

“Keep telling yourself that Tobes.”

***

“Let’s just order in.” Tobin yawns as she snuggles into you, her nose buried in your hair.

“We have to go do teammate things you know.” You laugh, the woman letting out a growl.

“No.” She mumbles and you snort, shaking your head.

“We have to eat.”

“We’ll be fine.”

Just then Tobin’s stomach lets out a rumble and you roll your eyes, smacking her in the stomach, the woman grunting.

“Fine. Fine. Fine. But I’ll complain the whole time.” She huffs and you roll your eyes, throwing a pillow at her, smacking her right in the face.

“Alright Bob, let’s go.”

“Only if you hold my hand.”

You grin as you move towards her, taking her hand, your bodies again thrumming with pleasure.

“Of course I will.”

***

You knew eventually you and Tobin would have to reveal to the world that you were soulmates, though neither of you were sure how.

Your teammates had been brainstorming, and eventually an idea came to the one and only Emily Sonnett.

“I GOT IT!” Emily screeches at practice one day, running to where you and Tobin are sitting side by side on the bench.

“Put your arm around Tobers.” She commands and you do, your brows furrowed.

Emily runs behind you, excitedly clapping.

“You alright?” Kelley snorts, moving to where she’s standing, a wide smile stretching across her face when she realizes what had excited the defender so much.

Soon the entire team is standing behind you, the two of you chastised for turning around to see what’s going on, while simultaneously leaning against one another, bodies thrumming pleasantly.

“Alright, don’t move.” Alex commands and you snort.

“We haven’t been.” You stick your tongue out, earning a flick to the ear.

“Shhh!” Alex giggles, the women going silent for a minute before they surround the two of you, Kelley passing you her phone.

You grin, glancing at Tobin, the forward nodding.

“I love it.” She grins, blushing when you rub the back of her neck, the two of you blind to the fact that Christen had taken a picture of the two of you staring at one another lovingly, your tattoo on full display as your fingertips brush her tattoo.

Ashlyn looks over Christen’s shoulder with a nod, Ali, and Megan nodding when they see the picture.

“Love it.”

***

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous.

You were about to tell the world that Tobin Powell Heath was your soulmate, someone you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, which in the weeks after your tattoo’s had formed, you knew that to be sure.

She was funny, attentive, sweet, caring, talented, beautiful, stunning... There were an infinite number of adjectives you could apply to the forward.

“What do you think?” Tobin leans towards you on the bench showing you the photos, she’d edited of the two of you together.

The one with only your arm, and the back of Tobin’s neck in it, your tattoos proudly on display.

Lastly, the second picture Christen took in secret, of the two of you staring lovingly at one another, Tobin’s cheeks flushed, her brown orbs wide as your fingertips trace her tattoo.

You smile softly, staring at the photo, unaware the Tobin is staring at you, a massive grin stretching across her face.

“Y/N?”

You jump, clearing your throat.

“Sorry I was just…” You turn to look at her, her grin massive.

Tobin’s eyes flutter shut, the woman purring when your fingertips brush the tattoo on the back of her neck.

“I love it.” You whisper and she smiles softly.

“I do too.”

***

It was a week before the first game when Vlatko gave you the okay to come out as soulmates on Instagram.

Needless to say, the fans exploded, and soon you and Tobin were trending on Twitter, the fans shocked that the Portland Thorn and Arsenal player were soulmates.

Some fans were absolutely ecstatic, complementing the beautiful tattoos that had appeared on your skin, others though, were not so happy.

“Are you sure Y/N just didn’t draw it on her skin?” Ashlyn snorts and you huff, calmed by the feeling of Tobin’s hand in your own, your bodies still buzzing in pleasure.

“That’s a no considering we literally watched it literally form on your skin.” Megan makes a weird hand movement and you snort, your hand slipping behind Tobin’s neck and scraping against her inked skin.

Tobin groans softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. She turns away, clearing her throat.

“S-Sorry.”

The woman turns back to you, brown orbs wide and cheeks flushed when you continue to scratch the back of her neck, the woman literally putty beneath your fingertips.

“For what?” You grin, your tongue trapped between your teeth and she smiles, humming as she leans into your touch.

“I can’t remember.” She closes her eyes, smiling lazily and you snicker.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t falling for the forward, her touch gentle, smile shining as much as her brown orbs.

Tobin Powell Heath was someone it was hard NOT to fall in love with, the way her eyes would soften when she smirked making your heart melt.

“You look like you’re a million miles away...” Tobin grins, her fingertips brushing your tattoo and you inhale sharply, jumping, your cheeks flushed and eyes wide.

You clear your throat.

You’d always had a thing for touching Tobin’s tattoo, but so far, Tobin hadn’t touched your own, and now that she had, you didn’t want her to stop, the feeling stimulating your every nerve ending.

Tobin bites her bottom lip, watching your reaction when her fingertips yet again brush your tattoo.

Your brows furrow, Tobin’s cheeks flushing at the foreign look on your face, a look that sends a shiver down her spine.

You smile lazily, the woman grinning.

You can’t help but pout when Tobin pulls her hand away, your bottom lip jutting out as far as it can, though you immediately suck it back in when Tobin boldly slips a hand behind your neck, dipping her fingers down into your shirt, fingertips brushing your tattoo.

“Better?” She asks and you grin.

“Better.”

***

You hadn’t expected so many fans to be representing the both of you, some wearing Tobin’s jersey while holding a sign with your pictures on them.

You turn to Tobin on the bench, the two of you wearing bright yellow vests, both covered in sweat from your time on the field.

You grin as you slip an arm around her.

“I didn’t expect fans to already be representing.” You whisper in her ear and she laughs, a grin stretching across her face, the one that makes the corner of her eyes crinkle.

“Of course, they are, they’re USWNT fans, they’re always ready, for literally anything.” She laughs and you beam, your fingers brushing against the tattoo on her neck.

“I’ll still have to win SOME of them over.” You lean against her, smiling when you see someone in the stands glaring at you.

“Well, if someone doesn’t like you, they must be crazy because you’re the kindest, sweetest, most beautiful-

Tobin stops midsentence, her cheeks blood red as she stares at the field, not wanting to see your reaction.

“Why’d you stop? I’d like to hear more about how amazing I am.” You giggle, the woman nudging you just as the final whistle blows, the USWNT again the victors.

You move to your feet to shake hands, Tobin moving to hug Christen and the others as the two of you move around field, eventually meeting up, your pinkies linking together.

“Excuse me, Y/N, Tobin? May I get a word?” A reporter asks and you glance at Tobin, the woman nodding.

You swallow hard, clearing you throat, you weren’t the type to do interviews, considering you were the quiet type, but one feel of Tobin’s fingers intertwining with yours and you smile, the familiar buzzing in your body causing you to relax.

“As per usual, you both played a FANTASTIC game, but I have to ask you about the news that surfaced a few weeks ago.” He smiles and the two of you blush, glancing down at your intertwined fingers.

“Yeah, it came as a surprise to the both of us.” You chuckle nervously and the man nods.

“Mind if I asked how it happened?”

“I brushed her arm and practice and...” Tobin motions to your tattoo before rubbing the back of her neck.

“So, does this mean you’re an item?” He teases and your cheeks flush.

“We’re taking it slow; no one ever tells you how awkward it is to meet your soulmate when you’re complete strangers...” You turn to Tobin, beaming. “We're definitely not strangers now though.”

Tobin’s cheeks flush and the reporter grins.

“Well, I’ve taken up enough of your time ladies, congrats to you both.” He nods and you both grin, nodding in return.

The man takes his leave and you both turn to one another.

“Well, that went well.” You snort and Tobin nods.

“I bet we really won the fans over.” She winks, and you give her a nudge.

“Well, I hope they vote for me.” You giggle and she rolls her eyes.

“Let’s join the others.”

***

“Wait, where are we going?” Tobin asks with a chuckle and you grin.

“I saw something when we were on the bus on the way to the stadium.” You giggle.

Tobin shakes her head, adjusting the hat on the top of her head as you drag her down the street, the woman watching you with a grin.

The Portland Thorn had fallen for you and fallen hard, the woman completely and utterly smitten.

Tobin simply let you drag her along, willing to follow you wherever you took her.

“Tobe?” You wave a hand in her face and she clears her throat, cheeks pink.

“Sorry, what did you say?” She giggles and you roll your eyes, nodding towards the building beside you.

Tobin’s brown orbs widen, lighting up as she stares at the neon sign.

“You took me to an arcade?” She whispers, bottom lip jutted out and your brows furrow.

“Are you crying?” You snort and she shakes her head.

“No... Just my...” She swipes at her eyes. “Allergies?”

You snort.

“You sound convin-

Tobin practically sprints into the arcade, your fingers intertwined as she makes a beeline for an open machine.

“Tokens!?” She whines and you giggle, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek.

“I’ll go get you some tokens.”

Tobin stands still, eyes wide as she watches you go, the woman’s hand on the cheek your lips had been on moments ago.

“Ye-Yeah, su-sure.”

***

“YEAH!” Tobin punches the air excitedly and you shake your head, watching as the forward celebrates her win before diving into another level.

You shake your head, watching your soulmate excitedly play the arcade game, her tongue trapped between her teeth.

You lean against the out of order machine next to her, watching intently at the faces she makes while gaming, the grin on her face making your heart swell.

You were absolutely in love with the forward, you never knew someone could take your heart so easily, but considering your souls were literally made for one another, it would be surprising if it WEREN’T easy.

“HELL YEAH!”

You jump at Tobin’s shout, the woman abruptly turning to you, cupping your cheeks and pulling you into a kiss.

Stars explode behind your eyes, a feeling overcoming you that you’d never felt before, your body tingling as your lips meet, your souls kissing again in two new bodies, their promise to meet again in the next life fulfilled and then some.

Your fingers scrape the back of Tobin’s neck and she lets out a raspy groan, it’s then you’re INCREDIBLY happy that the two of you are alone in a back room at the sparse arcade.

The two of you part, eyes shining as they flutter open and lock, your souls snarling in protest over the fact that you aren’t kissing.

Tobin’s lips split into a dazzling grin, her eyes nearly shut because she’s grinning so wide.

“I can’t believe you’re the one I get to spend the rest of my life with...” She whispers, leaning in to press another kiss to your lips, your souls sighing as your lips meet again.

“I’m so lucky.” She sniffles, a tear running down her cheek and you beam, swiping her tears away with the pads of your thumbs before you’re leaning back in, lips meeting in a tender, salty tasting kiss.

“I’m just as lucky to have you Tobin... If not more.”

Tobin shakes her head, playfully brushing her nose against yours.

“I don’t know about thatttttt....” She shrugs and you snicker, throwing your arms around her neck and leaning in pressing another kiss to her lips.

Your souls purr as the two of you kiss, your foreheads resting against one another.

“What do you say we head back to the hotel?” You grin. “I’m sure there’s some shitty TV movie we can cuddle up together and watch.”

Tobin bites her bottom lips, tips of her ears pink.

“Sounds perfect.”

***

Needless to say, when you get back to the hotel, the movie is forgotten, your souls again calling out to one another, longing to kiss again and again.

So that’s where you ended up, the two of you sweetly kissing in bed, giggling against one another’s lips.

The kisses are tame, your lips against hers and nothing more, the two of you rolling around in bed as you kissed, bodies thrumming in pleasure.

You eventually still, laying on top of Tobin, looking down at the Portland Thorn with a grin, eyes sparkling with adoration.

Tobin wraps her arms around you, fingertips on your tattoo as your hand slips behind her neck, your nails scrapping against the back of her neck.

“So, does that mean the arcade was our first date?” Tobin asks and you grin, turning to nuzzle into her neck.

“I mean, you did kiss me.” You whisper, squealing when Tobin rolls you over, now on top of you.

“And you kissed me back.”

You roll over again, the two of you falling off the bed, Tobin taking the brunt of the fall considering she’s beneath you.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry.” You giggle, the woman shaking her head, grimacing.

“You sound real sorry.” She snorts and you giggle, tears in your eyes.

“I mean, I’m hurt too, I had a pretty hard landing, you’re nothing but muscle.” You shamelessly flirt and she rolls her eyes, cheeks pink as she fights off a smile.

You grin, jumping off of her, moving back towards the bed, stretching.

You let out a squeak when Tobin tackles you onto the bed, peppering your cheeks with kisses.

She eventually stills, the two of you panting heavily, your eyes locked.

“I want you to be my girlfriend.” She whispers and you grin, surging in for a kiss.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

***

Emily gasps loudly at practice the next day.

“TOBIN HEATH AND Y/N Y/L/N SPOTTED KISSING WHILE ON AN ARCADE DATE!” She screams, you and Tobin staring at one another with wide eyes, cheeks blood red.

“Jesus Christ, are the paparazzi invisible?” You snort and Tobin shrugs.

“I wonder if they got my high score in the picture, was pretty lit.” She grins and you roll your eyes, snorting as you give her a playful nudge.

“Soooooooooooooooooooo...?”

You both jump, realizing Christen had basically materialized in front of you.

“How did you get over here without making any sound?” You whisper, realizing everyone is staring your way with wide eyes.

“She basically teleported over there.” Kelley whispers in awe, turning to Alex who shrugs.

“I didn’t see her move.” Emily shakes her head, turning to Lindsey. “Did you?!”

“No, she just appeared.”

“BACK TO THE ELEPHANT ON THE FIELD.” Christen yells and everyone freezes, the woman turning to you both with a grin.

“SOOOOOOOOOOO...?!” Christen says again, you and Tobin sharing a glance.

“Sooo?” Tobin asks and Christen growls.

“DO I GET TO GIVE Y/N THE SHOVEL TALK!?” She asks and the two of you share another glance, both blushing.

You swallow hard, taking a step back.

“Don’t try to run.” Megan yells. “She’ll use her inhuman speed to catch you!”

Christen grins maliciously, rubbing her hands together eagerly.

You turn on your heels and run away, Tobin’s eyes widening when Christen takes off after you.

“IT’S FUNNER FOR ME IF YOU RUN!”

Tobin shakes her head when Christen tackles you, her eyes wide.

“The shovel talk doesn’t mean you kill her!”

***

Christen gives you an apologetic smile and you chuckle.

“Sorry, got a little carried away, I’ve never gotten to give the shovel talk before.” Christen grimaces and you shake your head.

“It’s okay...” You smile. “It means a lot to me that you care about her so much, she’s lucky to have a friend like you.” You nudge her and Christen grins.

“She’s my best friend and I just want her to be happy... I just want you to treat her right.”

You nod, the forward smiling when you lean against her.

“I will. I’m made for her after all.” You wink and Christen giggles.

“Sorry for the tackle.”

You grin.

“It’s alright, good form, have you ever thought about being a linebacker?”

Tobin moves towards the bench, eyes narrowed.

“Are we playing nice? Has Chris attacked you again?” She asks and you shake your head.

“No, she hasn’t.”

Tobin nods.

“Good, can’t have my best friend killing my soulmate.” Tobin gives the woman a pointed look and Christen giggles.

“No killing, I like her too much.”

Christen moves off the bench, Tobin immediately taking the empty seat she’d left vacant, the woman kissing your cheek.

“You okay?” She asks and you nod.

“I am.”

You stare into Tobin’s eyes, your heart skipping a beat.

“I’m more than okay.”

You hear a retching noise and glare across the field at Kelley, the woman grinning.

“Stop looking at each other like that.”

“Yeah, this isn’t a Rom Com.” Emily teases and your cheeks flush.

Christen shakes her head.

“Leave the love birds alone you two.”

Christen sends you a wink before dragging the others back onto the field, leaving you and Tobin behind, the two of you blushing.

“That DEFINITELY wasn’t how I expected the shovel talk to go...” Tobin snorts, rubbing the back of her neck and you smile.

“I knew a shovel talk was coming, but not a tackle.”

Tobin’s cheeks flush when you lean against her, her tattoo buzzing, as she slips an arm around you, your own tattoo buzzing as well.

“To be honest, I’d be fine with whatever shovel talk was coming, as long as it meant I was with you.”

Tobin’s eyes widen as she turns to you, the woman smiling bashfully as her eyes lock with yours.

The forward leans in, closing the distance between you in a tender kiss, a kiss that seals the relationship between the two of you.

It’s after that kiss that the relationship between the two of you ramps up, your relationship eventually turning into an engagement, and that engagement turning into a marriage.

You never knew a call up to the USWNT would lead you to your soulmate, let along that soulmate being THE Tobin Heath, but now, lying beside her, the two of you entirely bare after the first night of your honeymoon, you knew that wherever life had taken you, you would’ve ALWAYS ended up with Tobin Heath.

Whether it be you brushing up against her or running into each other on the Portland streets, your souls would continue to meet in this time and next, because Tobin Heath was your soulmate and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #tobin heath x reader #tobin heath imagine

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