#along the way maybe she yells at him for never leaving their hometown

[musicalchaos07]

Jancy + Sweet Home Alabama AU

#are you seeing the vision??? #Nancy living in nyc superstar journalist engaged to a Patrick Dempsey type (we'll call him Chad) #having to go home to Hawkins to beg her aloof but (unknown to her) successful artist husband Jonathan to finally sign the divorce papers #they're giving enemies to lovers #along the way maybe she yells at him for never leaving their hometown #he yells at her for pretending to be someone else #but the TENSION is palpable #obviously there's a runaway bride situation #thankfully there's no southern romanticism bc it's Indiana #ARE YOU SEEING THE VISION???? #admittedly it's a little niche in that it's an au specifically for ME who grew up watching this movie on tbs on the weekends #jancy #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #st au ideas

[cherrycoloredfaith]

BEAUTIFUL artwork for Kiss Off by my beautiful friend Ashley!!! she's so talented and beautiful thank you SO MUCH for being a part of this @ash-yuh

Kiss Off

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 5

Chapter 4

He left the bar first and set off down the road alone, getting to his car in a matter of minutes. He didn’t know where he was going, just that he needed to breathe again. Driving aimlessly for nearly twenty minutes he realized he was leaving the city, going to the only other place he knew: Munson Construction. The storm clouds in his head that had vanished at the bar returned on the drive. The roads were dark, but the air was clearer out here, and Steve couldn’t get enough of it. The wind wrecked his hair, whipping it around as he took deep breaths. Steve wondered if he should just book it to Hawkins and give up on all this. Wondered if he was ever really meant to leave his hometown. Wondered if he really messed up and should have just married that girl from high school. 

Parking in that same red dirt parking lot, he didn’t ask himself what he was doing because there was no point. He was going to wait it out, stay out of Robin’s hair and give her no reason to worry. Getting out of his car, he headed towards the front to lean on the hood and look out into the surrounding woods that reminded him of home. Except you could see right through them to the street lights beyond the thin cluster of trees. If he was in Hawkins, he could have looked out on a number of lakes within a few miles. Perfectly hidden and perfectly alone. Even out here, he could still hear distant cars from the busy highways, pulling him out of his reveries.

Steve wished he had a pack of cigarettes. Smoking never really tempted Steve until moments like these, where he was alone, searching for some sense of peace.  Pausing, he remembered the key to the clubhouse sitting in his pocket.

Maybe Eddie had some in his locker or office somewhere? Would it hurt to take just one?

Steve tossed his keys in the air, caught them, and thought once again, fuck it, they gave him a key anyway, right?

A single light illuminated the steps going up to the door, the screen door slamming against Steve’s back as he bent to unlock the deadbolt. Once inside, he felt along the wall for a light switch and failed. 

In the dark, his outstretched arms led his way around to the lockers, trying to use what little light came from outside the doorway. The red hard hat was the second locker from the right if his memory served him correctly, so once his hands made contact with the wall of open shelves, he started to rummage. He felt a small, soft cardboard box in the back of the highest shelf, thought, yes, and fumbled to open it in the dark. Just one. 

Steve heard a creak of the floor and his head snapped up, trying to adjust his eyes to the dark hallway beyond that led to Eddie’s office. Nothing but pitch black.

Suddenly, a yell rang out–no, more like a battle cry. The lights came on in a flash, giving Steve just enough time to register the baseball bat swinging for his head. He cowered down, covering his face with his arms as he shut his eyes tight, preparing for the blow. 

When none came, Steve peaked out of one eye at the scene before him. There stood Eddie, in Garfield pajama pants, bat still raised high, and hair coming out of its bindings–a look of utter confusion cast upon his face. 

“Whoa, dude, what the fuck?” Steve exclaimed once he’d found his voice. Is this guy going to kill me?

“Me, what the fuck? No, you, what the fuck?!” Eddie retorted, not moving to lower the bat. He looked from Steve’s face to his hands where he still clung to the pack of smokes. “Did you come all the way out here for those? I could have told you where to get your own. Jesus fucking Christ.”

“No, Eddie, God, I was just–” Steve realized he didn’t have a good explanation for this situation other than the truth. “Look, my roommate needed me out of the apartment for a bit, I was just driving around, looking for somewhere to go and I ended up here.” He shrugged. “And I wanted something to do. What are you doing here?” Steve was pointedly not looking at Eddie’s silly pajama pants. The last thing he needed was to be punched by his boss for laughing at his sleepwear.

“Shit, well, no fucking point now,” Eddie sighed and rested the bat on his shoulder. “I live here, asshole.” 

Steve didn’t know what to say to that, so he picked the first question that popped into his head. “Oh. So… do you normally go to sleep at 10:30 on Friday nights?”

Shutting his eyes, Eddie finally dropped the bat to his side, and Steve could breathe again. When he opened them again, he glared at Steve. “For your information, I was watching a goddamn movie.”

It finally clicked. “Why didn’t you say you lived here before? I thought that was your office,” said Steve, looking towards the dark hallway.

“Because not everyone knows. It was supposed to be a temporary thing, I just didn’t want to stay with Wayne anymore, and it was convenient. I pay him rent, but it’s nothing like what the city would cost me.” He looked defensive. 

Steve just nodded, unsure of what to make of it all. Before he knew it, Eddie had walked back into his office–bedroom– and then returned with one shoe on his foot, the other in his hand, his bat nowhere to be seen. He hopped down the hallway trying to pull the other sneaker on.

“Alright,” said Eddie when he succeeded. “Come on, then.”

Steve didn’t move as he passed by, wafting a soft, sweet scent from his clothes. “Huh?”

“You need to waste some time, let’s waste it.” He was leading Steve through a door he hadn’t noticed before leading out of the kitchen. He grabbed a tin lunchbox as they headed outside. Steve followed as if on autopilot onto a surprisingly cozy, covered back porch, fit with a table, chairs, and even a couch and coffee table that made up for the missing furniture inside. It looked homey. 

Eddie set the box down to plug in some string lights that provided enough illumination for them to see one another. They sat on opposite sides of the couch; once Steve saw Eddie prop up his feet, he did, too, hoping to give any semblance of a relaxed state–when, really, his heart was hammering in his chest. 

When Eddie opened the lunchbox in his lap, Steve immediately got a whiff of what was inside, and he prayed a silent thank you to whatever fates led him here. Eddie looked over at Steve with a grin. “You seemed like you’d need something stronger than those.”

That was the second time Steve forgot about the cigarettes clutched in his palm; he decided to set them down and nod as a sign of his gratitude. 

Then, Eddie started to roll his own joint as if he’d done this a million times. Steve even saw that he had proper rolling papers. He watched him with fascination while Eddie focused on his task. No words were spoken between them, but something about the silence felt comfortable. No, not comfortable, but… anticipating.  Steve stared in awe at how relaxed he was, delicately licking the edge of the paper to hold it closed. Eddie’s hair was almost completely out of the low bun it was in and long strands dangled down, creating a curtain around his eyes. Steve had the urge to brush it aside.

“How’s the sunburn?” Eddie asked. 

“The what?” Steve blinked out of his trance. His heart was pounding. 

“Dude, you’ve got to snap out of it. Did I scare you that bad?” Eddie leaned in, searching Steve’s eyes for something.

“No, no, I’m fine, I swear. Thank you.” What was he thanking him for? Steve was screaming at himself on the inside, begging him to regain his cool. “I’m so sorry–for barging in like this. I can go, you don’t have to let me stay.”

“I know, Steve. It’s cool. To be honest it gets… a little lonely living out here, not being in the city. Your presence is welcomed, for now.” He shot Steve another smile and began to light the end of the joint. Steve starts to wonder if Eddie has already done this once tonight based on his low, honeyed voice, the slightest glaze over his eyes. 

“Where’s Wayne’s?” wondered Steve.

“Closest suburb to the east of here. Not ten minutes down the road when there’s no traffic. I just needed some space to learn how to take care of myself, but still save some money.” He took a drag. “And to smoke without worrying about Mrs. Wheeler next door calling the cops,” he added, chuckling devilishly low as if it was something that actually happened. 

Steve took the pass, inhaling deeply, trying to hide his little coughs. “What movie?” he asked as he stretched his arm back out for Eddie to take the joint from his hands.

Eddie looked over and laughed. “Can you speak more than two words at a time?”

Steve rolled his eyes and snatched his hand back, moving it out of Eddie’s grasp to take another hit. “Fine, fine! I mean, what movie were you watching before I broke into your house?”

“Technically you didn’t break in, you have a key.”

Steve flushed. “That’s another thing to get back to. Are you avoiding the question?”

“Never. I was watching Back to the Future 2,” he said matter-of-factly, chin held high as he took back the joint, fingers brushing Steve’s, sending a shiver up his arm. “Arguably, the superior of the two films. With triple the Michael Fox. ” Eddie looked up at the lights dreamily. 

“Dude, what? You’re lying to me. The original is so much–wait, what?” he asked, caught off guard by Eddie’s last words.

He laughed, “Kidding, Harrington! So far, the original one reigns supreme.” He winked, but his gaze didn’t linger. “That was actually going to be my first time seeing it until…” he gestured to the two of them sitting on the couch. 

The confusion Steve was experiencing at Eddie’s implications caused him to flush again. “Oh,” was all he said in response. Maybe he should ask him if he’s into guys. “So why give out keys to literally your home? Does everyone have them?” Steve screamed at himself in his head. 

“Usually I don’t have to worry about anyone I work with thinking anything valuable is inside. Tonight I was sorely mistaken. And no, not everyone has one, but anyone needs to be able to get in, so…” Eddie shrugged. “It’s worked out for me so far. I keep my room locked too during the day, so don’t get any ideas.” He smiled.

Steve decided not to ask why he received one after his first day, and instead decided to change the subject. “My roommate wouldn’t really have kicked me out herself, but I knew she’d want the place since she was the only one getting lucky tonight.” Oh, God. Why did he have to bring that up?

“Ahhhh, are we in love with said ‘roommate’? Here on a feel-sorry-for-yourself evening escapade?” Eddie tilted his head to the side, peering at Steve through lidded eyes. 

“No. Seriously, it’s not like that. She’s my best friend. We went to this place downtown… near Pennsylvania Avenue,” Steve was cautious with his words, but he couldn’t help it. He had to know. “I forgot the name. Do you know any bars over there?”

Eddie met Steve’s eyes, but his were unreadable. “Yeah, I know of one. Did they play a lot of dream pop?”

“Yes!” Steve exclaimed, trying not to sound too overly excited that Eddie picked up on a similar detail as him. And appeared to have visited the same bar as him. This probably meant he was cool, but he still couldn’t tell anything about him. He should just ask. “Yes, that one. Red door?”

Eddie nodded, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Tell me more about her. Your roommate.”

Steve got lost in talking about his best friend for a moment. He was familiar with giving the usual exposition of how they met working at an ice cream parlor but had gone to school together for years. They were inseparable ever since, up until she graduated and decided to go to college, which Steve hadn’t got in. He was so grateful she was close by, but he always felt that he couldn’t follow. When Robin’s scholarship finally let her live off campus, Steve was elated to come join her somewhere new. 

“So, she’s the whole reason why you're here?” Eddie asked. 

“Kind of. She’s who really got me out of my hometown,” replied Steve, shrugging.

“Hmm, sounds like you might be in love with her…” Eddie repeated. “Why else would you want to move just to work such a shit job with such a shit boss?” He gestured to himself, topped with a sickly sweet smile. 

“Seriously, dude, that ship has sailed. Or never even made it in the water. Or doesn’t even exist. I don’t–I don’t see her like that,” Steve answered, not sure if Eddie could pick up on what he meant. The weed was starting to cause his thoughts to swim around in his head. “This was the only job I got called back for.”

“Oh,” said Eddie. The joint had sat forgotten between his fingers as they spoke. Now, Eddie lit it once more, taking a drag. Instead of turning his head to blow the smoke away from Steve like he had before, he leaned in, locked eyes with him; he blinked slowly as he directed his exhale at Steve’s face in a powerful gust. Steve groaned, made a face and put up his hands, pretending to be bothered by it while his stomach did somersaults; he had to fight to not stare at his lips. “Guess Wayne was desperate, huh?” Eddie kidded.

“Hah, yeah, I guess so,” Steve nervously laughed to shake himself out of the trance Eddie put him in. He knew Eddie was reasonably joking, but it wasn’t far from what Steve suspected was the truth. But speaking the words out into the world of his failures didn’t hurt as much with the weed in his system. It didn’t feel so much his own fault as it was the nature of the outside world. Life outside a small town. Simple truths you learn as you age. Finding a job is hard, being gay is dangerous, etc. 

A quiet silence fell over them as they finished those last puffs of the joint. It was comfortable, but Steve couldn’t help but feel the absence of the words between them. It was nearing midnight according to Eddie’s digital watch on his wrist. Was it really just hours before Steve overheard Eddie complaining about him? Saying he was going to “ruin everything”? 

Steve jostled at the memory, the same concerns from before settling in. He had to ask. 

“Eddie… What happened last summer?” Steve urged. 

Their eyes met again. When did they get so close? Steve could see the expanses of Eddie’s brown eyes. They suddenly darkened, and it was as if Steve was being pulled forward ever so slightly. 

Then, Eddie pulled his legs back, leaned forward, and propped his elbows on his knees, putting distance between them as if nothing had happened. He looked out to the darkness of the woods ahead.

“Nothing that actually concerns you. I’m sorry you heard me yell,” he revealed, defeated and ashamed. “This guy on my crew last year, he caused a lot of problems. Didn’t treat Max well either.”

Steve’s stomach flipped again; so Eddie was referring to him with that outburst. Steve wasn’t sure what this last guy had to do with him. He hadn’t caused any problems like that, right? He barely remembered what he did that day.  Steve paused, taking in the information; he had that same feeling again, that there was more to be said about his guy, but before he could pry further, Eddie interrupted. 

“Anyways, you might want to be heading back before it gets too late. You good to drive? I don’t have anywhere for you to crash,” asked Eddie. 

Taken aback, Steve nodded, feeling dismissed. They stood to walk inside; Steve paused to assess how high he was only to find he was hardly buzzed. He was surprised, certain that he felt so much more a second ago.

Steve couldn’t tell what Eddie was thinking as his face was blank when they walked along a dirt path in the trailer to the front door. Eddie held it open for him as Steve tried to think of something to say.

“Thanks! For hanging out I mean, and the smoke.” Steve hoped he was successful at attempting to sound casual. In return, Eddie gave a familiar grin, nodding once and shutting the door behind him without another word.

Steve stood there for a moment, wondering why bringing up this guy set Eddie off so badly. He wished he could have stayed for longer, but it was getting late. Sighing, Steve brushed off his nerves and walked towards his car to head home. 

As Steve drove that evening, despite abruptly being sent home, he couldn't help but to be hopeful. Steve could drop the whole last summer issue if Eddie could. He imagined himself enjoying himself at work, making Eddie laugh, making him proud. Becoming his friend. Really learning how to do the work. He smiled to himself as he walked up to his apartment. He didn’t even feel so lonely when giggling drifted up from under Robin’s door. Steve went to bed in his new room finally feeling a little at peace. He fell asleep to the image of Eddie’s smile behind his eyes. 

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #fanfic #art #kiss off fic #hehehehehhehehehehehe #steddie au

[aissa-snapped]

The heathen and the christian part three

Word count : 2.7k words

Pairings: Ivar x OC

Summary: When Frigyth disobeyes Ivar's rules, consequences follow along, making her wish she had listened to him in the first place. 

Warnings: smut, rape, non-con

Requested by @youbloodymadgenius and others

Frigyth returned to Ivar`s chambers, sobbing uncontrollably, only thinking of what would follow next. She could only pray and hope that whatever Ivar decided to do to her, she could take it. Considering the state he was in at the current moment, - drunk from all that mead-, it meant he was not aware of his own actions. She has had enough negative experiences with drunken men in her hometown, instances in which she was almost raped.

Taking careful steps towards her tiny bed sat in the corner of the room, she took a seat, rocking back and forth in a stressful manner. It felt like centuries until she finally heard the door crack open, and a very wasted Ivar entering the room, with two other slaves helping him stand on his feet, preventing him from falling.

Standing up abruptly, she watched with careful eyes the way he was brought in by the servants, and eventually placed as softly as they could on the bed. Frigyth hoped he was knocked out, and maybe tomorrow he will have forgotten the whole situation, but it seemed this was not the case, for he waved a dismissive hand at the two fearful girls, in a ` leave now` motion.

Once the door was shut closed, there remained the two, in a deadly silence in which only his heavy breaths and her shaky ones were audible. Ivar, who had been recently sitting with his back on the bed, was now standing upright, staring at the girl shamelessly. With a low chuckle and a head shake, he rubbed his chin.

'' What you did there...'' He trailed off, creating a suspenseful moment. '' I warned you. Many times. I took your side in front of the other SERVANTS AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME?! YOU MADE A FOOL OUT OF ME IN FRONT OF THE OTHERS.'' Yelling with all his might, it felt as if he was sobering up quickly.

'' I- I don`t understand what I`ve done wrong. I was taken by surprise and you scared me.'' The poor girl explained herself, gesturing with shaky hands.

'' The other men who have slaves... They do whatever they want to them. If they so wish, they can fill them up right there in front of the others. ME?! I was just being nice and I suppose that was my mistake. I am tired now... But from tomorrow onwards... Oh you have no idea what I have prepared for you. '' He warned lowly, projecting fear upon the maiden.

'' TAKE THESE OFF NOW.'' He motioned to his leg braces, and in a heartbeat, Frigyth was crouching and untying the heavy pieces, placing them next to her master`s bed. Once he positioned himself nice and comfy in the bed, he fell asleep in a breath, whilst the red headed girl was struggling to stop her mind from overthinking and going over all possible scenarios of what would happen the next day.

The passing weeks have been as close to a real hell as possible. Ivar was no longer the somewhat sweet and protective boy he was the first days they`ve met, but rather became a horrific master. Frigyth had been tasked with helping around the kitchens, and the garden, so that much decency was still left inside him since he did not make her whore herself to random men -unlike Berwyn, who, as a punishment was kept as a sex slave for her master and his friends-.

Ivar did not in fact try anything with her anymore, keeping his distance from her. They would meet first thing in the morning and last night at night, when she would prepare a bath for him and remove his braces, though she never saw him naked because she was ordered to leave, which she was grateful for.

The distance the king has put between her and his slave seemed to have unlocked a new opportunity for his other brother to befriend the shy christian. Hvitserk has been taking slow steps towards approaching and eventually converse with her, without the girl backing away in shyness. Besides the language barrier, though Hvitserk did know a little of her language, they were inexplicably becoming closer and closer.

So much so that when Hvitserk was having one of his usual affairs with some servant, he came to the conclusion that he wished it was Frigyth instead. But he had to remain focused and remember that if he does one wrong move, he would lose all the progress he had made so far.

Though Ivar was not as watchful over his property as he was the first time he brought her here, that did not mean that Hvitserk`s advances went unnoticed by him. And if there was one thing the whole world knew about Ivar, especially his brothers, was that he NEVER shared.

Afraid Frigyth might end up liking Hvitserk more than him - not that she liked him now after he acted so cruel- he decided it was time to take action. So that very night when he was retiring to his chambers, with her behind him, once they were behind closed doors, he waited for her to do he routinely crouch down to free his legs from the braces, and similar to a hawk catching its prey between its sharp talons, he swiftly gripped her neck with one hand, taking her by surprise. She gasped for air, placing both her hands above his, in hopes she could get him to let go, but she stood no chance against his physical strength.

'' So. I see you have been getting close to my brother hmm?'' Eyes wide open, he was studying every inch of her face, as if ready to yell at her in case she would lie.

'' We are not cl-close. He is just n-nice to me.'' She whispered, being left breathless when he squeezed her throat and restricted the air flow.

'' Mhm. I see. How about this. You will ignore him and if I see you talking to him, I will hang you BOTH.'' He spat, eventually releasing her from his grip, and pushing her forcefully backwards, so that she ended up on her butt , supporting her weight on the palms.

Quickly standing up, she nodded at him obediently and went to bed as well.

The following days proved to be even more difficult. Ivar was watching over Frigyth every second, and whenever Hvitserk came by to chat with her, she tensed up, looking subtly at Ivar through her lashes making sure he was not marching over to them.

As for the older brother, he was confused as to what was going on. He coulnd`t get the Christian girl to talk, and even more, she would ignore him and turn her back towards him when he approached her. All this made him feel confused, sad and angry. He wanted answers.

So when in a seldom occasion he found the girl walking with a basket towards the stables, he jogged up to her and stopped her dead in her tracks.

'' Why aren`t you speaking to me anymore?'' He asked sadly, furrowing his eyebrows.

Sighing, she dropped her empty basket on the ground and crossed her arms. Looking around alarmingly, ensuring that the king was not around, she turned to look at Hvitserk for the first time in days.

'' Well... It`s... Ugh. I am scared to say it.'' She admitted nervously, fidgeting with her collar.

The young Viking placed his hands on her shoulders and rubbed them. The small gesture calmed her a tiny bit, but nonetheless she was unsure if she should tell him.

'' Say it. It is all right, I promise.''

'' I-... It`s I-Ivar.''

Hvitserk dropped his hands in a second, staring at her with a look of anger and she couldn`t tell if it was towards her or his brother, but she hoped for the latter.

'' Ivar told me to stop talking t-to you otherwise he will k-kill us.'' She sobbed softly, not able to contain her sadness at the restrictions she was obliged to obey.

It was as if a literal demon took possession of him and channeled its hell-like fury through the Viking as he turned red, squeezing his fists as hard as he could, but he stopped immediately once he saw how terrified the girl looked.

Gaping at him, she started shaking her head. '' I shouldn't have told you. Now we`ll both burn at the stake.'' And with that, she started weeping as if her fate has already been determined by the gods and there was no escape.

'' No no. Calm down please. PLEASE LISTEN.'' Gripping her forearms strongly, he stopped her from shaking and walking like a mad person, and assured her that he was not going to tell Ivar a thing.

'' How about this... We can`t talk when Ivar is around, but he can`t do anything to us if he doesn`t see us.'' And so Hvisterk, as desperate as he was, proposed to her that they should meet up after dark behind the sables, where it was guaranteed they were to be left alone and more importantly, hidden from Ivar`s possessive eyes.

Although it was risky, sneaking behind Ivar`s back, Frigyth had had about enough of her life as a slave as it was, and if she was going to spend her life here, she might have as well enjoyed it.

The little rendezvous turned into others and soon, they were meeting up almost every night. The first time it was really scary. Frigyth had to wait for Ivar to fall asleep so that she could escape the chambers, and it was not wasy. He was a light sleeper, so any slight movement awoke him. But she eventually made it and got used to this new routine.

'' You were so beautiful today. In that dress.'' Hvitserk complimented her, giving her a look of lust, which low-key made Frigyth feel a bit uneasy, but it was a normal occurrence to see him staring at her with those 'manly' looks.

'' Hvitserk, I wear the same dress everyday.'' She giggled softly, blushing at his compliment.

'' Of course but today ... It had something special about it. You.. Smelled different.'' He got close to her face, sniffling her hair and groaning afterwads. This action made the girl put some distance in between them, but Hvitserk clearly was not getting the message and with his hand, he started rubbing her back, tracing over places he`d been waiting weeks now to touch.

Trapping her with his strong muscular arms, he was now hovering over her, pushing her backwards into the soft grass, so that she was now laying on her back, powerless.

'' Hvitserk, what are you-'' He started kissing her neck, biting softly from place to place. Squirming and attempting to move his head away, her scrawny arms were no match for the warrior.

He was now trailing kisses down to her chest, which was only covered by the thin linen dress all slaves were wearing.

'' St- STOP'' But he was not listening. He kept going lower, and lower, in spite of the girl flailing her arms and legs hoping they would hit him and make him stop.

Hvitserk started simultaneously rubbing his clothed crotch against her still covered womanhood, grunting in pleasure.

Frigyth was mortified. As much as she wanted to make him stop, she was slowly realizing what was about to happen to her, and she froze on the spot. It felt as if she was laying on that grass lifeless, experiencing an out of body moment.

The Viking was now pulling her dress up, and with that left energy she had, she used the palm of her hand to move his head away from her, this resulting in angering him even more and with one strong hand, he gripped both her wrists pinning them down above her head.

Resuming his previous actions with only one free hand, he rode up her dress, now her private parts fully exposed to his hungry eyes. Frigyth had never felt more vulnerable or scared in her life.

Jerking when she felt contact with her sensitive skin, Hvitserk was rubbing her entrance up and down, licking his lips in excitement .

'' I have been waiting for this for so long. And finally...'' He trailed off happily.

Frigyth, with tears in her eyes, was looking at the stars, trying to distract herself from what was about to happen, though it was pretty difficult to ignore the sensation of something soft and wet touching her most intimate part of the body. Glancing down fearfully, she observed how the Viking was with his head between her thighs, toying with her using his tongue.

The feeling was inexplicable. Her body reacted to his actions, as if enjoying it, but her mind reminded her rationally that this was not a pleasurable experience.

'' Pl-please stop.'' She implored with a cracked voice, but Hvitserk had stopped paying attention to what she was saying a long time ago, for now he was taking out his penis, Jerking it quickly. Once it was well erected, he did not hesitate to enter her womanhood with a force that made her scream in pain.

It felt like nothing she had ever experienced. And for the next few minutes, he kept plunging into her over and over, ignoring her desperate cries of pain.

Frigyth returned to her chambers swiftly, stumbling upon anything, since her legs wouldn`t stop shaking. Everything hurt. Her body, her mind and her soul. She was slowly starting to comprehend what had happened, and the more she was remembering, the worse she was feeling.

Fearfully, she entered the room, stumbling upon the table, making a loud sound that had the tyrant king alert in seconds.

'' WHO`S THERE?!''

Jerking from his bed with his dagger at ready, he scanned the room for the intruder, only to find his little slave in the middle of the room, with red tear stained eyes, shaky legs, and her dress slightly coated in drops of blood.

His eyes went immediately from a bloody cruel warrior to a worried and protective stance.

'' What happened to you?'' He asked quickly, scanning her whole disheveled attire and already plotting someone's murder.

Frigyth tried speaking, but it felt as if her vocal cords were unable to reproduce the sounds. Her body was not cooperative and held her back from spilling his name.

Ivar was running out of patience, and now was starting to add the pieces together. Blood stains on the lower part of the dress, shaky body, and now that he was inspecting the girl closely he could see freshly formed bruises all over her neck, it all added up.

As the realization hit him, he knew it was about a WHO not a WHAT.

'' Who.did.this.to.you?'' He asked in a dangerously low voice, cracking her knuckles and neck, as if he was ready to attack the harasser right in the dead of the night.

Frigyth`s mind was twisted and warped. She didn`t know how Ivar would react had she told him it was Hvitserk. After all, he did forbid her from talking to him, and she disobeyed and this was her punishment from God, she was sure.

Ivar could tell the girl was too traumatized to speak at all, so for the sake of her, he dropped his dagger from his hand, and sighing, he motioned for the girl to come closer to him. She obliged, but fearfully so, the previous experience still fresh in her mind. Ivar made space for her, and wordlessly invited her to sleep next to him in bed.

Tucking herself under the heavy duvet, a sudden feeling of warmth engulfed her previously frozen and terrorized body, allowing her to relax a little. With her back towards Ivar, she moved the farthest she could go without falling on the floor, and curled her body, bringing her knees to her chest, eventually falling asleep like that.

Ivar however, was laying wide awake on his back, occasionally glancing at the girl and catching himself off guard by smiling at her when he heard her soft breaths, knowing she felt safe enough to fall asleep next to him. Not resisting the temptation, he moved his body closer to hers, just enough so that he could drop a protective arm around he torso, and rub her stomach softly.

He was going to find out eventually who touched her and when he did, he was ready to torture the man to death.

#ivar lothbrok #ivar the boneless #vikings #ivar #ivar the boneless x oc #ivar the boneless x reader #tw noncon #smut #fluff #comfort

[spicywhenspeaking]

Star-Crossed Connection: Chapter One

masterpost

Nick Folio x Original Female Character

this is a complete work of fiction, some characters while based on real people are totally made up. :)

Seraphina Holloway is Hollywood’s new it girl. But, when an embarrassing viral video of her ex / costar publicly dumping her goes viral, she thinks she needs a quick fix to help maintain her image. When she’s set to appear at her new movies premier she scrambles to find a date to bring that will help take the white hot spotlight away from her public dumping and show that she’s still desirable to all. Enter Nick Folio, drummer of the metalcore band that’s taking over the scene, Bad Omens. He’s a sweet down to earth guy with a heart of gold and when a smokin hot movie star asks him to be her fake boyfriend for a week he agrees to help. But will the line between fake feelings and reals ones start to blur when Seraphina lets her true self show.

word count: 3.3k

Taglist: @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @to-be-written @bngurngheart @jessicafg03 @knivesforapro @thatchickwiththecamera @somewhere-diamond @sorrowsofsilence @malerieee @dsireland86 @collapsedglasshouses

FLASH Seraphina! Seraphina!!  Right here!” FLASH

FLASH Seraphine! Hey! Let’s see a smile over here!”  FLASH

FLASH Seraphina! How are you feeling after the breakup?!”  FLASH

“Have you seen Conner's latest tweets? What do you have to say about him calling you a spoiled brat? and a controlling alcoholic?” 

FLASH FLASH 

The nonstop lights flashing in my face and the condescending questions have me feeling irate. I’m just trying to get to my fucking car. “No! I actually didn’t see his tweets! I could care less what he has to say and you can fucking quote me on that!” I yell back at the paparazzi as I climb into my car and slam the door as they continue clicking pictures over and over again. 

Ugh, I’m never getting away from this embarrassment. The stupid video was a drunken fight with Conner, my on-again-off-again boyfriend of the last year and a half. That fight ended up with us wanting to never speak to each other again.

Unfortunately, he’s my co-star in the movie we just made and we have loads of scheduled press to do along with a week-long film festival in snowy Colorado. I need to figure something out quickly, no way am I showing up to that alone. Conner Frank is a lot of things, talented, gorgeous, charming, but he’s also a petty douche. He’s been subtweeting like a dejected teenage boy since the video leaked. I look like such a primadonna, crying outside of a party sloppy drunk, and yelling at Conner about flirting with some other girl.

I looked like a wild woman, my makeup was smeared and my outfit was barely hanging on my body, he looked like an innocent bystander being berated by a drunkard. But I'm not exaggerating when I say he and this girl were hanging all over each other.

We had gone to the party together and this girl was in his fucking lap, if I had been sober? Maybe I would have handled it better. Instead, there's video evidence of me yanking her off of him and dragging him outside to hurl insults at him and cry about how he doesn’t love me anymore. And just my luck about forty people were video taping it on their phones. It was all over the news the next day, DailyMail, E!, TMZ, my hometown news station even talked about it. Ugh, and now the fucking paparazzi won't leave me alone.

I managed to get out of the parking lot without much hassle. The paparazzi have always been relentless, but I guess they have some regard for their own lives. They moved out of the way pretty fast before they met the underside of my vintage Bronco. My dad practically rebuilt the whole car, It’s all I have left of him since he died five years ago. He was a firefighter and died in a house fire after saving a family of five. I miss him a lot, I’m thankful that I have the memories of fixing up this car together.

 Pulling onto the road I roll down my windows and turn up the radio. “Coming up next we have a band that’s taking over the rock charts with their new single, here’s Bad Omens with Just Pretend,” the radio DJ says as the song begins to play. I’ve never heard of Bad Omens before but I like this station so I’ll check it out. 

I'm not afraid of the war you've come to wage against my sins

I'm not okay, but I can try my best to just pretend

So will you wait me out

Or will you drown me out?

So will you wait me out

Or will you drown me out? 

(I might have to let you go)

“Oh shit, this is pretty good,” I mumble to myself as the song plays on and I turn the volume up louder. 

I can wait for you at the bottom

I can stay away if you want me to

I could wait for years if I gotta

Heaven knows I ain't getting over you

We'll try again

When we're not so different

We will make amends

'Til then I'll just pretend

I listen to the rest of the song and make a mental note to listen to more of their music when I get home. I’m on my way to meet my manager, Alyssa, and my assistant, Jules, for lunch to discuss what next steps I want to take with my career and how to get out of this stupid embarrassing viral expose of my life. 

When I arrive at the cafe where I agreed to meet Alyssa and Jules there is a bit of a commotion but thankfully the manager at the restaurant doesn’t allow the paparazzi inside. Once settled into a corner booth I sigh exasperated. “I am so done with this fiasco, I need an image revamp immediately,” I say to the two others at the table. “Well we can get you booked on Kelly’s show to talk about the movie, she’s great for positive press. Her clips on TikTok do really well.” Alyssa suggests. “Oh yeah, and you could do that karaoke game! People will hear your singing voice and forget all about this shit with Connor.” Jules adds. “I like the talk show idea but not the singing, let’s not forget how horribly received my single did a few years ago. Sometimes actors should just stick to acting. Myself included.” 

“What I need is a new guy, I need to make it seem like I could care less about Connors’s stupid comments and cheating. If I could find a hot, mysterious guy I could make myself look like the hot superstar I’m supposed to be.” 

God, If my dad could hear how fucking full of myself I sound he would throw me in the car and take me right back to grandmas ranch to get rid of this attitude. But I don’t know how else to survive in this world. It’s toxic to a core so I’ve just adapted to be toxic along with it. 

“What kind of guy?” they ask in unison. “What about Jacod Elordi, hes so dreamy,” Jules asks. “I think he’s dating that nepo baby whose mom went to jail.” Alyssa says as she scrolls through her Instagram feed, “What about this TikTok guy? Noah Beck? He’s a cutie.” she flips her phone to show me some photos but I’m unimpressed. “No, I don’t want some cookie-cutter Instagram hunk, I want someone cool and hot. Like….Like….like that guy over there.” 

I point off to the far side of the cafe where a group of guys is sitting at a table, I’m singling out the one with the baseball cap and red cut off shirt. “In between the two long-haired guys across from the one with the neck tattoo. That’s the guy.” I say, admiring his side profile. “Wait a guy like him? Or that guy? Just some random guy?” Jules questions and I don’t answer, I just scooch out of my seat and head over towards the boy’s table.

A few people notice me as I walk over and I offer a small smile. I reach the table where the four boys are seated and clear my throat to announce myself. They look up confused and I begin introducing myself, “Hi, I’m sorry this is kind of weird but I’m-” 

“Holy shit!! You’re Seraphina Holloway!" one of the long-haired guys says. "Haunted Drive-In is one of my favorite indie horror movies, you were so awesome in that! oh!, I’m Nicholas by the way, sorry for interrupting. This is Jolly,” He points across from him, “and Noah” who is sitting to his left, “and this is also Nick, but we call him Folio.” who is the last of them sitting on his right side. They all give a head nod of acknowledgment and Folio offers a little “hey.” 

“Hey! Nice to meet y’all. Wow, I can’t believe you saw that movie! It was one of my firsts but definitely a personal favorite. Goes to show that it’s not the budget that makes the movie, It’s all about writing and having a good director.” I start to ramble and remember the reason I came over. “So this is kind of random but I was wondering,” I turn to the guy he introduced as Folio, “if I could get you’re number?” 

He does a double-take between me and the rest of the guys almost like he’s making sure I’m talking to him. “Me?” he gestures to himself and raises his eyebrows. “Yes, you.” I giggle. “What? Are you not interested?” 

He eyes me up and down and shakes his head, “oh no, I’m definitely interested, Just surprised is all. Um but yes, my number, can I see your phone?” Nodding I hand him my unlocked phone and let him put in his contact information. “Listen are you busy tonight? Maybe we could go out for drinks?” I am never this forward and honestly, it feels kind of cool, but is it empowering or desperation? Shut up inner monologue. It can be both..right? 

“We actually have a show tonight, why don’t you come and we could do something after?” 

“A show? Oh, are yall a band?” I ask and the guy with the neck tattoo looks almost offended that I didn’t know. Like omg sorry but pretty much everyone in L.A. is in a band or some public access soap opera, sue me for not knowing them all. But Folio is the one who responds, “Yeah, Bad Omens, have you heard of us?”

Wow, if that isn’t cosmic intervention at work before my very eyes, “I just heard you guys on the radio! You guys are awesome, you’re playing tonight? Where?”

“Text me your info and I’ll send you some passes for the show”

“Okay, perf. Looking forward to it! Wow, so awesome meeting you guys. I will text you and see you guys tonight” I say with my pageant smile and while turning back towards my table almost completely run into a waitress.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, are you okay?” I say throwing out my hands to keep them from crashing onto the floor, “Yes, I’m okay, it’s fine- oh my god! You’re Seraphina Holloway! Oh my god! Did they really cast you as Ferye in the live-action ACOTAR series, omg that’s my favorite book series, can we get a picture please?” 

Laughing I agree to the picture, “Thats just a rumor, but I would love to play Ferye, could you imagine? I’ll have to call my agent” I joke as we take the quick selfie and with one last wave to the table that was watching my whole interaction I head back to my table to quickly text Folio back with my contact info.

“Sooo? How did it go?” Allyssa asks and her and Jules both lean in to get the details. “Well.. It looks like we’re going to a concert tonight girl!” I say and turn my phone to show the three backstage all-access tickets he just sent over. 

Later that evening the three of us are outside the venue preparing to show our passes. “Wow, I’m so glad we became friends in middle school, movie premies all over the world, free stuff, and now VIP concert tickets. We did good Jules” Allysa says high-fiving Jules and I roll my eyes. “Wow, so that’s all I’m good for now? Free stuff and access to shows and movies?” I joke and we all laugh.

“No no, of course not. You also offer amazing medical benefits.” That makes me burst out laughing. I’ve known Allyssa and Jules since the sixth grade and when my acting career started talking off the choice between some random Hollywood leech and my best friends helping me out I went with my friends and It’s been such an amazing journey so far. Besides the current shit-storm, I’ve found myself in. But, that’s all on me. 

We make it into the venue and head towards the VIP area a few minutes before the opening band goes on. The music is cool and different from what I typically listen to. 

When Bad Omens finally takes the stage I’m transfixed, the show they put on is electric and so fucking fun. I can’t keep my eyes off Folio, he’s a drummer, so hot. Their music is great, the song on the radio was such a gentle introduction to them, they have some really headbanging stuff and I never thought I could be so turned on by someone banging against a drum kit for an hour.

Folio had texted me earlier to wait for them at the backstage exit so when he was done with the show and showered we could head out to hang out. 

When he and the other guys exited he waved and they walked towards us, “the guys are going to the Dave & Busters down the road if your friends want to join? I thought we could take a ride to a coffee spot by the pier” he asks me and I almost swoon on the spot. “That sounds great.” my friends excitedly agree and we say our goodbyes and head our separate ways. 

I follow along side Folio as we walk further into the parking lot, “so should we call an uber? Or did you drive?” I ask and he laughs under his breath as we stop next to a big black motorcyle. “I road here since it was a show in town. How do you feel about riding on a bike?” he asks and my eyes widen a little. Hmmm the risks are falling off and becoming mangled and possible dying and the pros are riding on a motorcylce with a hot drummer..”Sounds fun!” I tell him and accept the hemet he offers me. “But it will mess up my hair.” I fake pout and he laughs, “I think you’d prefere a bad hair day over your brains spilled out over the side of the road. Plus, it would take a lot more than bad hair to make you look bad.” 

I blush slightly and put on the helmet, “how do I look?” I ask and do a spin. 

“Very nice,” he says looking me up and down, “have you ridden before?” 

“Yeah, my dad had bikes and use to take me on rides. He died a few years back so its been a while but I know the drill.” I tell him and try to push down the emotion the clogs my throat. It’s still hard to talk about him. “Oh, I’m sorry for your loss. Was your dad a harley man?” he asks and I can’t help the big smile that speads across my face. “Yeah he had a 1959 Harley-Davidson Duo Glide FLH, it was his baby. It’s still in the garage at my mom’s, I havent been able to ride it. But, maybe someday.” 

“Thats a sick bike, maybe that someday we can go on a ride together?” he asks and I smile and nod as he throws his leg over the bike to start it up. I climb on behind him and wrap my arms around his waist. A few minuets later he takes off out of the parking lot. We fly past or friends walking towards the D&B and give them a quick wave before Folio takes a sharp left towards the coastline. 

It’s been so long since I’ve been on a bike I forgot how much fun it is, the speed, the wind whipping against your skin, the world buzzing past you in a blur of color and lights. 

The closer we get to the pier the stronger the salt air of the air hits my system, the beach is my favorite part of living in California. I love the warm breeze and the sand and the freezing cold water, It’s my little slice of peace in the world.

We make it to the coffee shop about twenty minuets later and once inside I order and green tea and Folio orders a hot chocolate with extra whipped cream. He finds us a seat on the patio facing the water. The coffee shop has warm twinkly lights all along their patio and small unscented candles at each table. “This is a cute place, you come here often?” I ask taking a sip of my tea. “Yeah, I like riding near the water, the air is nice out here.” 

I’m starting to forget why I originally asked for his number in the first place, I figure I should just rip the bandaid off. The worst he can do is say no and then I awkwardly uber home and never listen to his band again. I could try this the old fashion way, and date and maybe we would eventually get there but this premier is next week and I don’t have time for traditional dating right now. 

 “Look I don’t know how to ask this and not sound awkward but I have a new movie premiering next week at the Colorado Music and Film Festival and I need a fake boyfriend to make me look hot and my ex look like a loser. I don’t know if you saw but this embarrassing video of me went viral and it’s my literal nightmare to show up to this thing next week with no one when he’ll have the newest victorias secret lingerie model draped all over him.” I blurt it all out like a toddler after eating broccoli for the first time. “Um I know that sounds crazy, but I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend? Would you? It’s in colorado! So snowboarding, good food, parties? Um weed? If thats your thing.” 

“Wait what? Do you just regularly ask people you barely know to movie premiers? And ask them to be your fake boyfriend? How do you know I’m not crazy? And how does a girl like you need a fake boyfriend?” he asks with a small giggle. 

“Ugh, I need a fake boyfriends for the exact reason of being myself. I’m a mess, I just need to not look like a total loser infront of my ex and really the world. I’m some sick joke because I acted like a drunk idiot. Have you ever been a meme? It sucks, and I’m not even a meme I can use ironically with my friends." I take a deep breath before continuing. "Listen I know it’s a lot to ask a stranger, but it would just be a week and if you hate me at the end of it we never have to speak again.” 

He’s quiet for several minuets and I don’t say anything else, I’m sure he’s just thinking of a nice way of letting me down. 

“So a week in colorado with you, at a film festival and I just have to pretend to be your boyfriend?” he asks and I just nod as confirmation. 

“You know what? What the hell, sounds like it might be fun. What do I need to do?”

I don't stop the smile and squeal that break out of my mouth and I practically shoot over the table to hug him. “Oh thank you! thank you! You just need to show up and be the cool motorcycle driving metal drumming guy that you are. Oh and send me your measurements and I can have my stylist pull some stuff for you to wear. I will send you the itinerary tomorrow, this is going to be great.”

As we finish our drinks and head back to the bike I notice movement in my peripheral vision and then a sudden sucussion of bright flashes. 

“Hey Seraphina who's the new guy?” FLASH

“Is this a new guy?” FLASH “whats his name?” FLASH “hey Seraphina give us a smile” FLASH

“Are you going to mess this relationship up like the last one Seraphina?” FLASH “come on give us a smile?” FLASH

“Ugh, I’m sorry. I guess they found out I was here.” I whisper to Folio and he quickly moves to defensively wrap his arm around me and walk us closer to his bike. “No need to apologize, let's just get out of here.” 

He hands me my helmet and we quickly climb onto the bike as the flashes continue going off. Soon I can’t hear their harassing comments as Folio kicks on the engine and speeds down the road. “So I guess that’s the start huh? This is gonna be fun” he laughs and hits the throttle harder sending us blazing down the dark city streets. 

thanks for reading ! :)

Chapter two ->

#nick folio #folio #nick folio x ofc #original female character #folio x ofc #ofc #fake dating #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens #nick folio fanfiction #Nick folio fic #folio fic #bad omens fluff #bad omens smut #nick folio smut #nick folio fluff #eventual smut

[hippielittlemetalhead]

So uh... I know I should be working on my ST stuff... But I found this in an old WIPs file and brushed it off and felt like sharing.

There is definitely like mild horror and like twisted possessive tendencies shit so please don't read if that's not for you? Not sure how to explain better tbh. Please be careful and mindful and if you can think of ways to better caution other readers after reading it let me know?

It was our platoon’s last day stationed at coastal outpost W-805 and our commander had insisted we all spend the last night with our units. Some sort of team building exercise. My squad was beyond excited to camp out on the beach with a bonfire and to watch the sea at night, despite the dangers that lurked in the water. But then again, most of them had grown up inland, only hearing horror stories and reading government issued informative pamphlets.

They had never seen someone fall off the pier without so much as a ripple or bubbles marring the surface. They had never sat silent through the memorial service of a favorite uncle who hadn’t come home from a fishing excursion, still too young to understand why he couldn’t come home, just that the ocean was to blame. They had never watched as a ship whose crew was known for dumping their waste overboard -rather than stowing it till they reached land again- simply blinked out of existence no more than a hundred yards out from shore.

They just didn't understand that there was a reason most of us raised along the coast moved as far inland as we could as soon as we were able.

And there was a reason so many of us always came back.

But my platoon only had the one night left until we were sent back inland on leave. Something in my chest ached as I watched the waves.

“I could understand their fascination, I guess, if I hadn’t grown up in the settlement.”

My partner smirked at me with a roll of his eyes, “Oh yes, like you haven’t been sulking all day about having to leave your hometown, to go on leave, all day.”

“You’re gonna miss this place more than I am, Guerrulo.”

He shrugged and waved his hand at the bonfire, the flames shooting up as the coals glowed with new life. “Maybe, but at least I can admit that I’ve got emotions beyond ‘grumpy’ and ‘sadistically happy at others’ misfortune’.”

“You’re a fotodamuastis, of course you’re all in tune with your feelings.”

The light from the fire danced along the column of his throat, casting his light mocha skin into copper hues and making his almost auburn hair red as the flames he commanded, as he tossed his head back in a laugh. But it worried me, the way he gazed out past our circle of comrades and friends, sitting about the fire or dancing in the outskirts of it’s glow. Eyes drawn to the moonlit foam of the crashing waves once he calmed down.

“You okay, man?”

“Yeah, just uh- just gotta take a leak.”

There are a couple of calls in his direction and some of our friends try to pull him into their formless dance as he walks past. I knew he would take it harder than most of the squad, he loved it when we were stationed at coastal outposts. Or rather, he loved being able to visit the quaint little settlements that always seemed to pop up about said outposts. He was the only one who seemed to understand when I would sneak out of the barracks late at night to walk along the shadowed shores or sit at the edge of the pier, listening to the waves and watching the moon.

I’m torn from my musings by a yell that’s more of a scream. One of our unit’s lower officers is leaning too heavily against her dance partner and pointing frantically in the direction of the water, her bleary gaze not quite able to focus on whatever it is she's seeing. I follow her hand and my breath catches in my throat.

“E?! Esai, no!” I'm up and moving before anyone else gets past the shock. Shedding what layers of clothes those I pass try and grab onto to hold me back. I shiver at the kiss of ocean mist against my skin as I run to the familiar figure making it’s slow way against the surf. The waves seem to be coming higher now, reaching out to him and pushing us apart. But I know that if I let it have him then I would never get him back. So I push against the waves, seafoam clinging to what little clothing I have left and the spray stinging my eyes. I wipe the water from my face as a wave takes him under.

A scream rips through the air and my throat burns as I realize that haunting wail came from me. I dive in after him. The water is a little calmer under the surface, but only just. I see Esai’s body floating eerily still in the churning current and make my way to him. Now that I’m fully submerged in the water I can hear it, a heartbeat, pulsing all around me. It's calming, asking me to stop, wait and think for a moment, let out that pesky bubble of air in my lungs and breathe.

I grab onto his wrist and pull his limp form close to me. My lungs burn and my eyes sting from the salt and my limbs ache from the effort to keep us from being torn apart again by the rough current.

“Now child there is no need for that.”

Something pushes against my side and I gasp out in pain. Saltwater fills my lungs and I sigh in relief from the burning. “Wha-what the hell?!”

“So, they were right,” Something like distant affection and relief washes over me. “It has been so long since one of Our children has come home.”

“You’re children? But there are no nerodamuastis.”

“Yet here you are. I felt that boy was special, now I know he was destined to bring you home to Us. Come my child, come to Us.”

“I can’t leave him.”

“He is a child of Pyr, he belongs to the surface and We shall ensure that he is retur-”

“He belongs to me!” There’s a ripple of what I can only describe as amusement and the water about us grows colder. “He- he belongs to me, and I belong to him.”

Amusement is replaced by indignation. “You are Ours. You would dare deny Us that which belongs to Us?”

“I may not be able to get us back to the surface, but I swear- If you just let him die I swear you’ll only have two corpses to feed your creatures instead of a child to claim. A child to call your own like all the other gods.”

“Very well.” The voice is softer and the water presses down as the current pulls us farther out to sea. “If We are to present you to the others as one of Our own then prove yourself. Your friend is near death, but the embers burn enough to be stoked to a flame once more.” I look down at the too pale form in my arms. “Save him. Bestow upon him the gifts your heritage grants you and We shall allow you to reside, with him, in Our domain.”

It takes longer than I would have liked. With the fear coiling in my stomach and the frustratingly poor hold I had on my newly awakened magics, the power I can feel pulsing in time with the push and pull of the water about me is like a fruit pit covered in oil. But I’m able to grasp onto it just enough. Then he’s gasping in my arms, eyes blinking back the salt and hands grasping at me to ground himself.

“Wha-what in the name of- Sean?”

“Hey there E.”

“Sean what is going on?”

“You died.” His body goes stiff in my arms, “O-Or nearly. I brought you back.”

“Th-that’s not possible. That sort of magic died with the- with the nerodamuastis… Sean, tell me you're joking.”

“So you succeeded my child. Such ability for one so young and untried,” Pride, pleasant and soft and warm. “We are pleased.”

“You'll keep us then?”

“But of course, the two of you shall be grand prizes to show Our siblings.”

“Sean, what did you do?” I look into his whisky coloured eyes clouded by fear and steely resolve. “What sort of deal did you strike with that fu-”

“I am yours.”

“What?”

“I told Them that I am yours and- and that you were mine. They gave me the power to save you to prove that we were worth keeping… together.”

His face twists in fear and unease. “Sean, I- I’m sorry but I don’t understand.”

“I love you.”

“Sean-”

“I couldn’t just let you die. Because I love you.”

He takes a shaky breath, eyes closed like he’s trying not to think too hard and failing. His hands clench and relax in spasms where they rest on my shoulders until finally he opens his eyes. “I-I’m sorry Sean, I can’t. I just- I just can’t.”

There’s a rushing in my ears and I can feel the tremors of anticipation as something in the water shifts. My skin feels too tight as that slippery little seed of power I had been wrestling with settles deep in my chest and something more springs up from it. “Don’t worry dearest,” I held him close, placing a lingering kiss on his brow. I smile as he shivers at the swell of my magic that courses from me and through him, marking him as mine. The Mother hums in approval about me. “You will.”

#the ocean is terrifying #fake military stuffs #magic is real and normal in this world #mid-fantasy #? #humanity fears the ocean #and with good reason! #mild horror #some non-consent #but like not sexually #just emotionally and morally #unrequited infatuations #the ocean is alive #gods exist #idk what else to put here #yeah the ramblings of a madperson #rambler writes #original story

[ncitygirls]

dance - jeno x f reader

fluff, smut, 2.1k

jeno knows it’s bad, but he can’t help but reminisce on how this all began. he likes to torture himself by reliving the first night over and over. it always starts with the drunken taunts from his teammates, sullied further by his dismissal. ‘no way,’ he’d said. ‘i can’t go there.’ he remembers seeing your roommates hyping you up, followed closely by your misguided steps. even after his earlier reluctance, he still regrets not beating you to the jump, his friends’ clearing their throats, trying to act natural as you approached their booth.

he hated the setting: a grotty sports bar a town over from his college campus. it sold stale, cheap beer, triple vodka sours and served well past three am. this may not sound like the typical start to a love story, but it was a start all the same.

‘do you wanna dance?’ you asked in a painfully small voice, your emboldened strut paling in complete contrast to your timid yet gleaming gaze. jeno still can’t say where he found the courage to agree, but agree he did, nodding behind his beer before following you up to the sticky floor. somewhere along the way you had taken his hand in yours, in fear of losing him in the sea of sweaty bodies. in the musty wave of noughties hits with tacky modern spins, jeno managed to lose himself anyway. he hadn’t a clue where to put his hands, his eyes searching yours as you giggled up at him, cooing at his bewilderment.

so you led. placing his hand on your exposed waist, your top riding up as it hugged the skin beneath your rib. he felt you shiver under his touch, his fingers clenching minutely at the feeling. ‘is this okay?’ he’d yelled, though it came through as more of a whisper under the music. you didn’t respond, instead reaching for his other hand, squeezing it over the denim on your hip. jeno was spinning. not from dancing, and not from the amount he’d drank. he knew it wasn’t down to that, nor the dizzying motion of the lights, the thickness of the air or the pounding of the music. jeno knew it was you. your chest pressed flush to his, your eyes boring into his. he didn’t know when you’d started swaying, his body leaning, moving in time with the music and the others on the floor. he could hear the songs changing, feel the bass beneath his feet. there wasn’t much he could do but enjoy it.

much like he still does. as he drags you close to him, the rosie organza pleated around your chest pressed right up to his satin lapel. his confidence then pales in comparison to now. it only took a few months to see the change, one you nurtured in all the ways a man like jeno needed. in soft assurances and gentle praise. in delicate touches and the softest embraces. in ardent exchanges and steamy quickies.

but the trouble began this past winter. well, technically well before. as a child, jeno had spent his summers visiting his cousin jaemin in his hometown from before he could remember. there the two had fortified a friendship, a real brotherhood that jeno never would have gotten to experience without being cast away to the country every solstice. it was there he met his cousin’s neighbour, mark lee. mark lee, a kind kid with wide eyes and a wider smile, was the kind of kid everyone looked up to. he embodied what jeno typically thought to be an older brother. and he was. to his step sister and cousins, to kids in his neighbourhood, to jeno’s cousin jaemin and eventually to jeno. it’s why, this christmas just gone, when mark had approached jeno, with giddy eyes and a giddier smile, to ask him to be one of his groomsmen - not just due to the refusal of a painfully introverted jaemin - but because of a genuine brotherhood formed between the two, jeno’s big hearted self could not refuse.. bringing us back to where the trouble began.

‘so, are you bringing her to the wedding?’ mark questioned suddenly, his arm pushing through the sleeve of his tux. ‘you definitely shou- it’s a bit tight at the elbow, can you see?’

jeno still curses jaemin for opting out of being a groomsman, leaving jeno to deal with the trivialities of wedding prep. not that he has a real problem with it all. it’s just a fitting, he thought as he walked in, his eyes landing on the black silk hanging off the changing room door. it wasn’t until he realised it was just he and mark - the rest of the groomsmen opting to come on a later date - that he was regretting the decision. because even though no one would admit it to his face, mark was a bit of a groomzilla. less for the usual reasons. he wasn’t rude, short or angered by little inconveniences. he was just a man of superstition, faith, and insurmountable dubiety. he wanted everything to be perfect. he wanted to do as much of his part as he could for his wedding day. jeno thinks his fiancée had been right to leave him the task of the guest list. mark easily knew more people, so was naturally inundated with acquaintances. it was a great idea, jeno thought.. until mark kept- on- pushing- ‘i’ll even relieve you of your duties early, let you go off with her-’

‘thanks man,’ the younger tried, watching the tailor pinch the jacket at his waist. ‘but really, i don’t think i will. i’ll just bring my mom or something.’

‘your mom’s already invited man, you know that.’ jeno huffed at that. of course she is. mark did take his duties seriously after all. ‘couldn’t have her going off on me like jaemin did-’

‘are you comparing my mom to jaemin?’

‘i’m just saying-’ mark paused to thank the attendant, slipping back out of his jacket as he walked up to jeno, squeezing his shoulder. ‘you’ve got nothing to be nervous about, jen. you’re like a brother to me. you should bring her, i’d love to meet her.’

jeno flinches just thinking about it, his spine straightening as mark turned to him fully. jeno manages a shrug, turning back to the mirror just for a second before deciding that, no. no, it wouldn’t be a good idea to introduce his girl to his best friend on his wedding day.

because the issue wasn’t that he wouldn’t invite you.

‘you met her at college, right?’

the issue was that he couldn’t.

‘maybe y/n knows her?’

the issue is that you’re already going.

‘you know what my sister’s like, she gets on with everyone.’

“jen?” you pant, his name falling off your tongue as he bounces you quickly in his lap. “come back to me.” he smiles at your sweet call, your teeth catching his lip between them before slipping your tongue into his mouth.

the ceremony starts in ten minutes, though guests are still pouring into the church. it’s what actually convinced him. that and you, your manicured hand stuffing your damp panties into the pocket of his fitted tux. it had been his undoing, your sweeping frame gliding into a small side door a few feet from the altar.

the clock is ticking but you pay it no mind, your hips halting their rise and fall as you dig your heels into the masoned floor, grinding your hips back and forth as you ride him. you feel his nails dig painfully into your skin, his tongue wrapping around yours, swallowing your gasps as his other hand gathers your dress, the layers of delicate organza billowing over his knee. when your nails find his nape, careful not to mess up his perfectly styled do, you suck on his ear lobe, forcing him to thrust up into you.

“fuck-”

“shh!” you hiss, rushing to stuff the same panties you gifted him in his mouth. you hear his muffled groans, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks the essence of you onto his waiting tongue. he feels you clench harder around him, his eyes smiling in place of his occupied lips. he lifts a brow when your rocking falters, your eyes darting around his perfect face, incapable of taking in anything but him and how he makes you feel. there’s a question in his gaze, forcing your head to bob. “yeah- i’m close-”

he abandons your dress then, letting the material pool around you two as he presses his palm to your neck, bringing your mouth to his. it’s a quick and steep descent to your release, your thighs burning as he slams you up and down on his cock, your skin clapping against his as he abandons all reason. he’s kept it quiet for so long, at times he thinks it might consume him from the inside out, all this love he has for you. all jeno really wants is to scream it out from the highest mountain top, tattoo it to his forehead, paint it on the fucking moon. hell, he would pay anyone to listen. he didn’t care who. he’d tell anyone who’d listen that he, lee jeno, was in love with y/n y/l/n.

“i love you too,” you almost cry, jaw unhinged as you feel the effects of his thrusts and affection rip through you. it spreads through you like wildfire, setting every nerve in you alight before it finally consumes him. your heat pumps and pushes him past his release, his heavy load pouring out into you. you milk him through it, your temple pressed to the crown of his head.

it’s the church bells that rip you apart, your whole body cringing as realisation hits. you cringe further as his flushed face fills your vision, his hands gathering your dress again before further staining your panties as he wipes between your legs. “don’t look at me like that.”

“like what?”

“like it’s worse for you than it is for me.” you’re about to ask how when he moves away from you, closing his eyes as he wraps it up before shoving it back in his pocket. “i said don’t.”

“fine, i won’t-” your surrender is cut short when knuckles strike the door three times, jaemin’s sign to wrap it up. “shit, let’s go-” you try to leave but can’t. because suddenly he’s stopping you, his warm hand loosely wrapped around your wrist.

“let’s tell him.”

“tell who what-”

“mark.” jeno used to hate acknowledging the striking similarities between you and your step brother. much like the unwon battle of the chicken and the egg: which came first? which of you taught the other that when your eyes enlarge, rounding into porcelain saucers, two full moons nearly eclipsing him, that he’d give you anything?

“today?” when he nods, you want to laugh. but he looks so confident. so sure. “jen, are you sure?”

“i am,” his affirmation makes your heart swell, even before he continues. “i’m sure about you.”

he knows where your uncertainties lie. but you affirm it too. “i’m sure about you too.” you both seem to forget the wedding in that moment, both neglecting the importance of your bridal party roles in favour of basking in one another for even a second longer. “only if you save me a dance?”

“always.” so much so, you don’t register the sound of the confessional door swinging open when jeno leans in to kiss to your forehead, his bitten lips pressing to the skin as his eyes land on a pair not too dissimilar to the ones he’d just poured his heart out to.

mark seems to short circuit for a second that seems to last hours. “mom’s looking for you,” he announces, spluttering around the words as you immediately grab jeno by the hand and drag him out the confessional. you both duck your heads as you shuffle past jaemin, who looks beyond pissed you didn’t heed his earlier warning.

when you both disappear, your brother turns on jaemin, eyes wide as full moons. “you knew!” it only angers him more when jaemin nods, unflinching when mark starts slapping his arm. “he told you and you didn’t tell me?”

“nuh-uh,” the younger defends, straightening out the groom’s lapel as he reverently shuts the confessional door. “i figured it out.” mark looks bewildered at the notion it had been so obvious. jaemin has to remind himself it’s mark’s day and not to be too harsh. “come on, hyung. he wouldn’t tell us her name, wouldn’t let us meet her.” mark still looks stunned. “don’t get me started on how many times they pulled this shit last christmas-”

and to think. it all started with a dance.

#jeno #nct jeno #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #jeno fluff #jeno smut #nct au #ncitygirls

[fanmoose12]

Have you ever done like a high school aged au except Levi and Hanji are penpals?

so levihan here aren't exacty penpals and it's a high school!au, but this idea has been living in my head ever since i received your ask so i hope you enjoy this fic, anon, because i dedicate it to you <333

As cliche as it sounded, but Hange never thought that her life was gonna be this way.

When she finished her journalistic degree, when she graduated from university on top of the class, everyone kept saying, "A bright future is ahead of you, Zoe. The whole world is at your fingertips..."

And Hange had believed them, Hange had expected it too. Uncovering the truth, saving people with the might of her words, making the world a better place one article at a time. Hange couldn't wait to get started and make her dream come true.

And then...

And then every serious newspaper turned her application down, not ready to give a chance for someone with a lot of skills and even more brains, but not enough experience, and then her pride got in the way, and so she didn't wish to settle for some local, small newspaper, refusing to waste her degree and years of hard work on some mediocrity.

And now, here she is - working as an advice columnist for Sina's Gossip.

Not a place Hange ever thought she'd end up at. Not a place she would have ended up at, if she had a choice. But she didn't have that choice, had taken it away herself when she refused offers from more respectable newspapers and didn't get a job at the place she had aimed for.

The magazine isn’t large, small enough for Hange not to know about it at all prior to receiving the job offer. She wouldn't have looked at that job offer twice, would have dismissed it immediately after seeing the name Sina's Gossip written on top, but as chance had it, she scrolled through the letter and saw the name at the end.

Erwin Smith.

The Erwin Smith, a local star who had disappeared from public eye some years ago. And now Hange knew where he had gone to.

He was only in his thirties, and already made a name for himself after he uncovered a conspiracy at the local pharmaceutical company. Just like Hange, perhaps even more so, he had a bright future ahead of him. But suddenly he quitted his job and founded his own magazine.

Hange would be lying if she said she wasn't at the very least a little bit intrigued at Erwin's sudden change of course.

That's why she agreed to a meeting with him. And that was her mistake.

Because Erwin turned out to be handsome, intelligent and charming to the point of ridiculousness. He smiled, spoke a few flattering words and next Monday Hange was already on her way to Sina's Gossip, where she started off as a mere copy editor.

It's been three years since that fated meeting, and Hange is still here, now promoted to an advice columnist. And, despite it not being what she dreamed of, despite working at a gossip magazine she used to despise... She likes it here.

She likes the people she works with, and she likes people she works for.

The letters people send her, asking for an advice or sharing their grievances, Hange likes them too. Enjoys reading them again and again, mulling over each word, looking at presented problem from each angle and doing her best to come up with the best advice possible.

Perhaps it's a simple wishful thinking or whispers of an ego she still hasn't lost, but Hange likes to think she helps these people. Solves their problems, guides them through trying times. Or brightens their day, at least.

She's not saving the world like she dreamt of, but she's making it a better place - or strives to, at least. Sometimes people she helped write her again, thanking for kind and wise words. Hange takes huge pride in that. The job pays well, enough for her to rent a small apartment and live comfortably, but it's these sincere words of gratitude that she treasures the most.

And what makes her hold onto her position in Sina's Gossip even more is the people that work alongside her. Erwin is a kind, if a little dorky man. And he gathered a team of similar people. They're all experts in their respective fields too, Erwin went through great lengths to get them all aboard.

When Hange just started working, the prospect of meeting new people made her more than a little bit nervous. As much as she liked other people and enjoyed getting to know them, getting along, truly belonging somewhere was always a problem for her. Too loud and too weird, she was usually an outcast.

But not at Sina's Gossips.

There, almost right from the beginning, ever since she walked through the glass sliding doors and met a tall man who started sniffing her, she knew she would feel right at home.

In the end, she wasn't wrong. The employees of Sina's Gossips became colleagues, then friends and then family.

She loves them all, even the grumpy midget who opens the door to her office without knocking, his face showing no ounce of friendliness or joy.

But— he's holding a cup of coffee in his hands, and even if Hange were truly annoyed, she'd forgive him just for that.

"Four-eyes," he says, a greeting and complaint at the same time. Hange lets it slide too. Levi hands her the paper cup with coffee, and it's still hot, almost burning her fingers. Lifting the cup to her lips proves that the coffee is black with three sugars, just as Hange always takes it. For that, she's ready forgive Levi any possible sin. "Are you neglecting your work once again?"

"No," that is an offence worth pouting, and Hange does exactly that. She wasn't neglecting anything, how could he even think about it. She's just been staring in the distance for... Hange glances at the clock on her computer screen... For almost ten minutes now.

Alright, maybe, Levi wasn’t completely wrong about that one. Not that Hange will ever admit it to him.

“Did you check the letters I send to you then?”

Hange blinks, a little startled. Letters? It’s the letters day already?

Another quick glance to her computer screen tells her that yes, it’s Tuesday and the letters day already.

Levi takes a seat at the other side of her desk with an irritated grumble. “I sent them to you last night, you ass.”

Hange snickers at the profanity. For an editor, Levi possesses a surprisingly foul mouth.

“I’m checking them now,” she bites her lip, opening the mail. Right beneath advertisements and notifications from her social media, there is a letter from Levi, just as he said there would be. Hange opens it, downloading the archive. As soon as she clicks on it, her eyes light up in anticipation. She starts scrolling down, swiftly going over each letter.

A father who doesn’t know what to give his estranged son for his tenth birthday…

A woman who is worried that her sister is dating a gangster…

A strange man who lost his pet lobster…

A teenage girl who isn’t sure what she wants more – to move to another city to the university of her dreams or stay at her hometown with her best friend and boyfriend…

Hange greedily drinks in every word, hurrying to get to the bottom. What if there is a letter from him…

Levi interrupts her by kicking her leg under the desk.

“I’m glad you finally decided to pay attention to your work,” he pauses, his scowl deepening. In her head, Hange finishes his sentence for him – but now, I want you to pay attention to me. God, Levi is just the cutest. So endearing and precious, and he tries to hide it so hard. Nothing gets past Hange, though. “But I didn’t come here to stare at your deranged smile.”

Obediently, Hange shifts her gaze from a screen to Levi, staring at him with a hand beneath her chin. “Why did come here then?”

“You have a meeting this Friday, remember?”

A meeting, meeting… It takes Hange a long moment to catch up with what Levi is talking about.

“A meeting!” she yells, when it dawns on her at last. She snaps her fingers, grinning at Levi. “Of course, a meeting, with that guy from, mm…” she frowns, tapping her forehead. “From Monkey Island?”

“Money Island,” Levi corrects, but he does so with a hoarse chuckle, and Hange mentally pats herself on a back.

After all, who doesn’t enjoy making their attractive co-workers laugh? Especially if they’re just as broody as Levi?

“Do you remember his name at least?”

“Zeke Yeager, right?”

“Right,” Levi nods, and it could be Hange’s imagination, but his face becomes just a little darker, and his voice just a little gruffer.

Hange’s senses start tingling…

“Do you know each other?”

And, yep, there it is – Levi purses his lips, turning his head to the side to mutter a quiet curse. “We’ve graduated from the same university.”

In what world that is a reason enough for such apparent dislike? Hange longs to know more, find out every possible detail.

Levi sees that desire reflect on her face, and sighs. “He’s an asshole,” he reveals. “Who loves his asshole little brother.”

It doesn’t explain much anyway, but Hange feels like it’s the best she can get out of Levi. She decides to surrender and quell her curiosity, just this once.

“This is the only reason why you came? To remind me about the meeting? I have an assistant for that, Levi.”

Lifting his thin eyebrow, Levi gives her a long look. Hange struggles not to fidget under it. What has gotten into him?

“You really don’t remember,” Levi shakes his head, his disappointment more than transparent. “Four-eyes, Berner is on a sick leave. Had been for three days already.”

Oh, right… that’s why no one answered when she yelled a greeting upon entering the office. That’s why she forgot about the letters day. And that’s why she was staring in the distance for almost ten minutes.

She awkwardly giggles, rubbing her neck. “It just slipped my mind.”

“Lots of things do,” Levi rolls his eyes. “Don’t forget about meeting with Yeager, though. He’s an asshole but—”

“But an important man,” Hange finishes for him. She knows that, can hardly forget about that, since Erwin is so adamant at reminding her every time they cross paths at the office. “I know, I know, that interview is important just as that Zeke is. It can make our magazine more popular and blah, blah, blah.”

“Not only our magazine,” Levi sharply retorts. “It’s a chance for you too, Hange. Don’t ruin it.”

There is an uncharacteristic intensity in his voice, one that turns Hange speechless.

It’s a surprise that Levi knows about her ambitions at all, of course, she told him same as she told practically every person she came across. One day, I’ll show you, I’ll show you all just how great I can be. But it’s a surprise Levi not only knows, but remembers about it. It’s a surprise that he seems to care whether she truly achieves her dreams or not.

“Do you wish to come with me?”

It tumbles out of her lips without a second thought. But just as her mouth starts moving, Hange realizes that she truly wants it, wants to have Levi there with her. As a moral support, if nothing more.

Levi doesn’t answer her right away. His eyes narrow, as he mulls it over with his hand on his chin.

“Zeke doesn’t like me,” he mutters. “I will only make it worse.”

“Or you will make it better,” Hange winks, pressing her elbows into the desk to lean closer to Levi. Now that she knows what she wants, she doesn’t hesitate to apply a bit of pressure. “Maybe, he secretly likes you.”

Levi scoffs, crossing hands on his chest. “I doubt it.”

Despite his curt answer, Hange knows that she is close. Levi is almost ready to break. To ensure that, she decides to play a little dirty. “Levi,” she tilts her head and pinches her eyebrows, sticking her bottom lip out. Her puppy eyes aren’t that impressive, not nearly as good as Nanaba’s, but, for some reason, they seem to always work on Levi. “Pretty, pretty please, will you go with me?”

Levi curses, and that’s how Hange knows that she won. “If I end up destroying your whole career, four-eyes,” he points a finger at her. “That’d be your fault.”

“If you ruin my career, that means I’ll stay here with you forever. Won’t that be splendid?”

He doesn’t say anything, but his face seems pensive, thoughtful. Something in Hange’s heart pangs at that.

“Are you going to Nanaba’s place this Sunday?” she asks to change the topic. And distract herself from the strange feeling Levi’s expression provoked.

“No,” Levi answers. Hange grins.

Levi always says no, always tells them that he won’t let them pull him into their shitty shenanigans again, always swears that this is the last time he dragged their drunk asses home.

And yet, he shows up time and time again. He complains, calls them idiots, drunken fools and disgraces to society, but he still shows up. If that’s not a sign of true friendship, Hange doesn’t know what true friendship is.

“Can’t wait to hang out with your broody mien, shorty!” she exclaims, laughing when Levi flips her off. “Don’t forget your gloomy attitude!”

“And don’t you forget about letters I sent to you,” Levi stands up, throwing his paper cup in a trash bin next to Hange’s desk. “You have two days to answer them all.”

“I know, I know,” Hange waves him off. “I don’t need you or Moblit to tell me how to do my job.”

Levi raises an eyebrow at that, looking overly skeptical. “Two days,” he dryly reminds her before leaving her small office.

For a moment more, Hange continues staring after him with a fond smile on her lips.

Back to work, Zoe, she shakes herself and returns her attention to the computer screen. Her mail is still opened there, and Hange scrolls down to the end, searching for a username she hopes will pop out.

Almost near the end, it does, and Hange can’t keep in a quiet squeal of delight.

[email protected]

The username is a bit ridiculous, pompous even, so Hange opts for a shorter and, in her opinion, more accurate one – lover boy.

Every two weeks without a fail, that same user sends Hange a letter, asking for an advice. They all wary in everything, but the subject – a person the lover boy has a crush on.

What do I do to become closer to her, what is the best way to make her smile…

Each and every letter, without a fail, brightens Hange’s day, no matter how shitty it was. The care, affection and love that radiate from these letters melt her heart and strengthen her belief that the world is truly a wonderful place if kind-hearted people like him still live here.

Apparently, romance isn’t quite dead yet.

Gripping the edge of her chair to at least try and conceal her excitement, Hange eagerly opens the letter and starts reading.

Thank you for your last advice, as always, it helped.

We’re growing closer, at least, it feels like we do. However, there is another problem that I hope you can help me with.

Admittedly, I’m not very good with my words. I never know what to say to tell the others how I feel, and sometimes I can come as rough and rather rude. It’s a fault of mine I had ever since childhood, and, truth be told, it never bothered me much.

But with her… it’s a bit different.

She can take a joke, and I know she doesn’t really mind my manner of communicating, but, still, I wish I could show her just how much she truly means to me. Sometimes it seems like she doesn’t quite realize it. Doesn’t really understand just how amazing and wonderful she is.

I know that the subject is not exactly ordinary, but your advices helped in the past, and I believe it will help this time too. Even if it wouldn’t, it’d be interesting to read your opinion on that.

Thank you in advance.

After finishing the letter, Hange starts rereading it, rubbing her forehead in thought. The lover boy is right, the subject isn’t easy at all. The lack of details and context complicates things even further.

A lot of people struggle at communicating what they feel, and it’s especially true about romantic feelings. But different people struggle in different ways.

Someone like Moblit, for example, is open enough with his affection, but he’d stutter to death sooner than confess to someone.

Someone like Erwin can charm pretty much anyone. His carefully crafted words and easy, handsome smile do all the job for him, but his words are crafted just a little too carefully and his smiles come a little too easily, and, as a result, he only rarely comes off as truly sincere.

And then there is Levi, whose walls are higher than skyscrapers and mightier than a fortress. But once you get past them, once you invest enough time and effort to break them down, you’ll find a gentle, caring man, who just isn’t used to showing his true feelings.

Hange can only guess what type the lover boy is.

Sighing, she decides to leave his letter for now and deal with it after she finishes with the rest. Somehow she feels that finding a lost lobster would be much easier than dealing with that particular dilemma.

***

A couple of busy days, filled with Erwin's warnings - Hange, remember the reputation of our agency rests on your shoulders, Nanaba's cheerful encouragements - you can do it, Hange! you'll charm the guy in no time, I know you will, Mike's horrible jokes - if you can't charm him, just ask Levi to punch him, that might do the trick too, and Moblit's frantic remindings, spoken over the phone in a throaty voice, later Hange and Levi arrive to the café Zeke had chosen for their meeting.

“It looks fancy,” Hange whispers to Levi, eyeing the entrance with a slight pout. “I didn’t know it’d be so fancy.”

“That’s Zeke for you,” Levi grunts. “Fancy asshole.”

“R-right,” suddenly every single precaution Erwin had told her come back, more frightening than ever. “Let’s just get this over with.”

The inside of the café seems even fancier, and Hange spares a longing look at her attire – an over-sized yellow pullover thrown over a light green plaid shirt with a brown khakis and worn-out converses. It’s not something one would call professional or stylish, not that she owns anything much better… but now Hange wishes she at least combed her hair.

She doesn’t know what Zeke looks like, hasn’t bothered with looking him up, since Levi is accompanying her, but she easily spots him even without Levi’s help.

Just as the café’s entrance, just as its interior, Zeke looks fancy. He’s not overdressed, in his dark green shirt and light cardigan he is all but casual, but damn, he is one of the leading journalists at the magazine called Money Island, and it clearly shows.

Levi wasn’t wrong about the fancy part, but he also failed to mention that Zeke is handsome. Extremely so. Blond and bearded, he is not exactly Hange’s type, but, well… there are exceptions to every rule.

Not just attractive, but, apparently, Zeke is a gentleman too.

He rises from his seat as soon, as he sees Hange, a blinding in its brilliance smile curving his thin lips.

“Hange Zoe,” he greets and eagerly shakes her hand. “I’m so happy you’ve come.”

The smile doesn’t leave his face, doesn’t even diminish, but his eyes narrow ever so slightly, when they land on Hange’s companion.

“I didn’t know you’d bring a friend.”

His voice is friendly, if only a little surprised, but his eyes are colder than they’d been before.

“It’s our editor,” Hange pats Levi’s back. “Levi—”

“We’ve met before,” Zeke’s still showing that same smile, but there is just enough frost in his voice to tell Hange that there is no secret affection between him and Levi.

“I’m glad Hange invited me to trail along. It’s nice to see you again, Zeke.”

Levi doesn’t bother hiding his sarcasm or schooling his expression in something more amicable. Hange rolls her eyes and kicks him as soon as Zeke turns around.

Will it kill you if you try to act a little friendlier? her gaze asks him.

I warned you about this, Levi’s huff answers.

Oh, well. At least, he didn’t call her four-eyes in front of Zeke. Clearly, that’s an improvement.

Hange sighs and sends a quick prayer that this meeting won’t turn into a complete disaster. She sits down in a booth across from Zeke and hopes that her smile will be enough to counter any possible tensions.

“The strawberry cupcakes are exceptionally good here,” Zeke notes, when a waitress bring them menus.

Without looking up from a menu, Hange nods. The prices in this café are much higher than she is comfortable with. She’d never bring her friends here, but, well… Zeke isn’t a friend, so Hange swallows down her discontent and orders herself a coffee with a strawberry cupcake.

She doesn’t even like strawberry cupcakes.

“Let’s start, shall we?” Zeke says after three of them receive their orders.

Hange takes a sip from her coffee – it’s honestly not that good to be so pricey – and tries to look composed and professional.

Truth be told, she doesn’t know why she is here. An interview, Erwin told her, but why would anyone want to interview her? She’s not a celebrity – not an actor or an artist, she’s a journalist, who works for a small, local magazine.

Why would a person like Zeke and a magazine like Money Island be interested in someone like her?

“I’ve prepared a small list of questions…” Zeke takes out his tablet, turning it on. “Are you ready to begin?”

“Yes,” Hange says, smiling when she feels Levi’s calf press to hers in a silent encouragement.

“So tell me more about yourself – your hobbies, talents outside of work…”

It starts easy like that, and Hange loses herself in her ramblings so much that she doesn’t notice that Zeke isn’t taking any notes.

But after a few trivial questions – what do you like about journalism, what made you choose this career path, what are subjects you’re most passionate about – everything gets just a little bit stranger.

“What are your greatest strengths?” Zeke asks, then follows it with, “What are your greatest weaknesses?”

Where do you see yourself in five years? What’s your dream job? Do you consider yourself successful?

One question after another tumbles out of his lips, and soon Hange realizes.

It’s not a simple interview, it’s a job interview.

A confused look Levi sends her confirms her suspicion.

“Mister Yeager?” Hange calls after a question about how she prefers to be managed.

“Call me Zeke,” he retorts charmingly.

“Zeke,” she forces a smile and hopes it doesn’t look too fake. “I don’t wish to appear rude… but what is the meaning of this? I thought you wanted an interview for your magazine?”

“It’s more for me than Money Island,” Zeke confesses. “I wish to get to know you better.”

Beside her, Levi tenses. Amongst the noise and clutter of the café, Hange can almost hear the sound of his teeth gritting. She doesn’t spare a glance in his direction, too busy gawking at Zeke.

“May I ask…” she clears her throat, feeling too far away from her comfort zone. “…Why?”

“Sina’s Gossips is a fairly small magazine,” Zeke begins, his voice as sugary as a strawberry cupcake before Hange. “But it became ten times more popular after you started working there. Clearly, you have a lot of potential, and something tells me that advice columnist is not your dream position. So I thought you’d be interested in my offer.”

“Your offer?”

“To change your workplace.”

“But I have no experience in the finance area.”

“I’m willing to give you a chance,” Zeke says graciously. “You’ll have to be approved my by superiors first, of course, and then you’ll need to undergo a bit of training...”

Hange can’t help but frown. “I can’t just abandon my previous position like that.”

“I’m not asking you to. Not now, at least.”

“So what exactly it is that you want?”

It’s Levi who asks, and his low, almost menacing voice startles Hange. She turns to look at him, but his face is as guarded and neutral as it always is.

Zeke raises an eyebrow, his expression curious as he studies Levi. But when he shifts his attention back to Hange, the same handsome smile is already plastered on his lips. “I want to offer a collaboration project. We can use your platform to let people ask things, not about their everyday struggles, but to ask you for an advice about their finance related problems. Our magazine can advertise it, and this will help to expand both yours and ours audience. And…” Zeke pauses, lowering his voice just a fraction. “It will give us a chance to see if you’re up to the job at Money Island or not.”

“I…” it’s a lot to take in, and, naturally, Hange struggles to find her own words. That’s why she’s so grateful when Levi decides to step in.

“We have to discuss with our boss first. Then we can give you a definite answer.”

There is an edge to Zeke’s smile that tells Hange exactly what he thinks about Levi’s interruption. However, it disappears instantly, in a blink of an eye. With his features much more relaxed, Zeke waves a waitress over and asks to bring them a bill.

“I’ll be waiting for your answer,” he says as he stands up. “I enjoyed our time together, Hange Zoe. And I know our companionship will bring me just as much pleasure. I hope we’ll keep in touch.”

He leaves after that, but Hange isn’t yet ready to go. She pushes the cupcake around the plate, mulling it over.

“What do you think?” she asks Levi after five minutes of silence.

“What do you think?” he shoots back, and Hange scoffs, kicking him under the table.

“I asked you first.”

Levi doesn’t answer immediately. He stares at her for a long moment, and there is something in his eyes, something Hange can’t quite understand the meaning of. She wants to know, though, almost asks him, but then Levi breaks the eye contact and slumps back in his chair.

“You’ve always wanted to do something more, right? It’s your chance, Hange.”

“And…” she swallows a heavy lump in her throat and briefly wonders where it had come from. Levi is right, that what she always wanted. Then why she is so hesitant to even entertain the idea? “Do you think I should take it?”

“It’s your chance,” Levi repeats.

He stands up and wraps his hand around her elbow to push Hange up too. His touch is too careful, almost gentle, and the confusion inside her continues to grow.

“Let’s go back to work,” he says, and adds in a voice so quiet, Hange almost misses it. “You did well, Hange.”

***

Hange goes to find Erwin as soon as they return to the office. She doesn’t tell him about the second part of Zeke’s offer, about the possibility that she’ll soon leave Sina’s Gossips and all of its employees, and focuses only on their future collaboration. Erwin listens to her frantic retelling with a calm, attentive face. He agrees to Zeke’s offer without much thought.

“That is,” he hastily adds, “if you wish to proceed with it, Hange. I don’t wish to force you, so if it’s not something you’re interested in...”

“No, no,” she shakes her head and hopes that the smile she forces on doesn’t look pained. “I’ll be happy to work on this project.”

Is she truly happy, though? Hange isn’t sure anymore.

***

She spends the whole evening and most hours of night thinking about it.

She goes to the Money Island’s website and reads most of their recent articles. She googles the most prominent employees and reads about them too, every bit of information she can get her hands on.

When the sun is starting to peek out from the horizon, Hange looks up Zeke. She finds out he has his own youtube channel, where he talks – no surprise here – about finance.

Being rich is easy

God, even the name of the channel reeks of arrogance.

But Hange has to admit – Zeke is good at what he’s doing. His pretentious manner of speaking and his apparent habit of scratching his ear is a little irritating, but he talks with confidence and ease that shows just how much knowledge and experience he has.

His videos are engrossing and his articles are, without a doubt, extremely well-written.

Hange likes Zeke, finds him interesting enough, but what he talks and writes about… she can’t help but think that it’s a bit too dull for her taste.

And it’s ironic, it’s foolish, she should be on a cloud nine from the opportunity presented to her. Hange feels like she would have been on a cloud nine… Three years ago.

But now she has a job she loves and people she loves working with. Should she really leave it behind just like that? Can she?

Then again, can she leave behind a dream she nurtured for as long as she could remember? Can she forget about every ambition and desire?

She doesn’t find an answer to that in the evening, it doesn’t come to her during the night.

And Hange can only hope that she’ll be able to answer it when the time comes.

***

But, instead, Saturday comes, and Hange forces these thought out of her head.

She wants to forget about her doubts, and with Nanaba’s fingers in her hair, a bottle of cold beer in her hands and Mike’s deep voice in her ears, forgetting about everything else is surprisingly easy.

They’re at Nanaba’s summer house, gathered around a brightly-lit brazier. Hange is warm, relaxed and content. Mike’s story about some fisherman from his hometown is a little boring, but Nanaba remedies that fault by whispering sarcastic comments to Hange.

When Mike’s thrilling tale is finally over, Erwin clears his throat, attracting everyone’s attention.

“In case some of you didn’t know, Hange had a very peculiar meeting yesterday…”

“Right,” Nanaba’s grin is too wide and gleeful for Hange’s taste, and when Nanaba fixes her eyes on her, Hange involuntarily squirms. “Very peculiar indeed.”

Knowing but not liking where this is going, Hange leaves the warmth of Nanaba’s lap and moves away. This action brings her to Levi’s side, and he tenses, but doesn’t protest which Hange takes as a sign that she can become a little bolder and lean on his shoulder.

Perhaps, he’ll shield her from Nanaba’s curiosity. Although, Hange has to admit that it’s highly unlikely. No one can stop Nanaba if she gets curious about something. Hange always admired that about her. Not now, though.

“So tell us, Hange,” Nanaba slowly begins, her eyes glinting in the light of the fire. Hange takes a quick survey, and confirms that, yep, everyone is looking at her. Apparently, Nanaba is not the only who is curious. “Did you have a good time?”

“Well, Zeke’s offer looks promising, and that project certainly is intriguing…”

“God, leave that boring stuff to Erwin,” Nanaba rolls her eyes.

Mike agrees with her by adding, “Not everyone here is as nerdy as you two.”

“Exactly,” Nanaba nods. “We want to know more about Zeke. Is he handsome?”

Perhaps, it’s the beer or the warm atmosphere or the fact that everyone – including Levi – is looking expectantly at her, but Hange chuckles and says, “Very much so. Not in the way our fearless leader is,” she salutes Erwin with a bottle, enjoying the slight blush that appears on his cheeks. “But he’s still attractive.”

There is pure wickedness in Nanaba’s gaze, when she leans a little closer to Hange and asks, “Is he as handsome as Levi?”

Hange chokes on her beer. Her eyes water as she coughs it out, her throat is sore, but with the help of Levi’s gentle pats, Hange manages to get her breathing back under control.

She glares at Nanaba as soon as she straightens out, but then remembers the stupid question and feels color rise to her face. She can blame it on a coughing fit. Probably. Hopefully.

“It depends on one’s preferences…” she mumbles, hating how weak her voice sounds.

Nanaba is merciless, though. “What’s your opinion then?”

It takes Hange more than a moment to gather enough courage to sneak a glance at Levi. Their eyes meet, but for no more than a heartbeat. Levi looks away instantly, his hands clenching into fists.

Hange decides to be honest then. Her gaze still fixed to Levi, she murmurs, “No, Zeke is nearly not as handsome as Levi.”

Nanaba coos, Mike guffaws and Erwin simply smiles, like that is exactly the kind of answer he expected.

Levi doesn’t react at all, but Hange is still pressed against him and so she feels – he relaxes considerably.

Hange relaxes too, and moving closer to his ear, she whispers, “Hey, help me get revenge on Nanaba.”

The look in Levi’s eyes is positively evil, wicked enough to send a shiver down a spine. Hange feels that shiver acutely, but… not because it scares her. Truthfully, it has a diametrically opposite effect on her.

“With great pleasure, four-eyes.”

“Oi, Nanaba!” Hange calls. She doesn’t know what to say next, finds it hard to concentrate with Levi so close to her, but she trusts he’ll back her up.

As always, he doesn’t disappoint.

“Is that your lipstick on Mike’s neck?”

There is no lipstick on his neck, Nanaba isn’t even wearing one, but they both panic and they both exchange quick glances. It’s enough of an evidence to make everyone laugh.

Mike is smiling, as he pulls Nanaba closer, tucking her under his arm. “We really suck at being discreet, aren’t we, Nana?”

“That we are,” she agrees with a smile as gentle and loving as Mike’s. “I guess there is something we want to tell you then.”

“About damn time,” Erwin shakes his head. “Do you know how many times I’ve caught you making out in the supply closet? I was getting tired of keeping quiet about it.”

“You didn’t keep quiet about it,” Levi grumbles. “Every time you caught them you ran to tell me.”

“And then me,” Hang gleefully adds.

Nanaba and Mike groan in unison, their faces red as tomato.

“We have the worst friends ever.”

Hange laughs. She very much begs to differ.

***

Beers and constant laughter very soon make all of them sleepy. That’s how Hange finds herself sandwiched between Erwin and Mike on a bed in the guest room, and though there is enough space for another person to fit in, Nanaba claims the master bedroom, and Levi takes one look at them and retires to the living room, sprawling over the couch.

In Erwin and Mike’s arms Hange feels safe and content. Her previous doubts take a seat back and let her enjoy the night with her friends. Thankfully, sleep comes to her that much easier than it did last night.

It doesn’t last for long, though.

The sun still isn’t up, but the world isn’t dark anymore, when Hange wakes up from her slumber.

Erwin is snoring into her ear, but there is a vacant place to her left, where Mike used to sleep. It’s not hard to guess where he had disappeared to, and Hange allows herself a small smile at the expanse of her friends’ happiness.

She doesn’t feel like sleeping anymore, so she throws one blanket over Erwin and snatches another one, wrapping it around her shoulders. With her feet bare and still dressed in a pajama shorts and Mike’s t-shirt that almost reaches her knees, she leaves the room and goes downstairs, walking outside. She takes a seat at a porch swing and draws a slow, deep breath, taking in the beauty around her.

The world is only starting to wake up, and grey color is more prominent than anything else, but there are just enough soft shades of purple, blue and pink to make up for it. Nanaba’s house sits just at the edge of a clearing that leads to a small lake, and the morning brings thick streak of fog that spreads over crystal surface.

It’s beautiful enough to take her breath away, and Hange loses herself in the calm, gentle feeling that finds its way inside her.

That feeling is strong enough to hide the sound of soft footsteps that approach her. Hange notices someone else’s presence only when the swing starts moving. She startles, her head darting to the side, but relaxes instantly, when she sees Levi’s sharp profile. He’s holding two cups of steaming tea in his hands, and hands one cup to Hange.

“Thank you,” she smiles, inhaling the sweet aroma of tea. It tastes just as sweet as it smells, she realizes after taking the first sip. Then, she turns her attention back to Levi. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No, I usually wake up at this time. Insomnia,” he says, and, right, now Hange remembers something-something about Levi sleeping not nearly enough for a normal human being. “Heard that you woke up and decided you might want a company.”

“How did you know that it was me who woke up?”

Levi gives her a short glance before shrugging and returning his gaze back to the scenery in front of them. “Your steps are different,” he answers, like it explains everything.

It does explain everything for Levi, Hange muses. He works in a strange, obscure way, so very different from other people. That’s why Hange likes him. That’s why she feels so comfortable with him.

Perhaps, it’s a fault of a dim, morning light or, perhaps, it’s her own sleepiness that changes her perception, but Levi looks a little different, softer around the edges. Because of it, Hange allows herself a small indulgence and moves close enough for their shoulders to touch.

Just a fraction, barely an inch, but she feels Levi move closer as well.

All of it – the colors merging on a horizon, the fog that makes everything look almost ethereal, the sweet tea made by Levi, Levi himself – fuse together to create an impossibly light, gentle feeling that very rarely visits Hange.

In that moment she feels happy, so happy that not even a brief thought of what’s going to happen if I leave is enough to ruin that mood. She simply drowns that pesky doubt down with tea and turns to look at Levi.

“I’m so lucky to have met you all,” she reveals to him in a quiet voice. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so happy before.”

Levi stares at her, and there is something in his eyes, something fierce and at the same time vulnerable that Hange can’t quite understand. She isn’t sure she wants to, not now, at least.

“Let’s stay like this,” she says, almost a plea. “At least, for a little while.”

“As you wish,” Levi agrees easily as though… as though whatever is it that she wants, he’ll get her.

The thought is both comforting and terrifying. Comforting, because it means he cares about her, because it means she’s not alone anymore.

And terrifying, because it makes her happy, and Hange isn’t sure she’d be able to part with that happiness, when the time comes.

***

No matter how much Hange wants to prolong that fuzzy feeling and stay in that small bubble with her friends, all too soon the weekend ends. Monday comes and with it arrives a new wave of responsibilities.

But not only responsibilities return – Moblit does too, and as soon as she sees him, Hange hugs him close to her chest, laughing when he starts complaining that she squeezes him too much.

“It’s been too quiet without your nagging!” Hange pats him on a back, smiling from ear to ear. “And you’ve missed one hell of a party! We’ve been sleeping so peacefully without your snores.”

“You like my snores,” Moblit argues, and he is right to do so. Moblit’s throaty snores lull her to sleep better than any lullaby. Besides, cuddling with him is always a delight, his tummy softer than any pillow. “And I’ve heard about that party already,” he continues with an almost sly look. “Nanaba told they found you and Levi getting cozy on a porch.”

Hange huffs, turning away from his knowing look. “I see Nanaba’s obsession with gossips is infectious.”

“It’s Sina’s Gossips we’re working at. Love for gossip is the requirement to get a position here,” Moblit jokes, and Hange shakes her head with a low chuckle.

Moblit’s been absent for just a week, but it was enough to make her miss him like crazy. She’s glad he is back. And more than anything, she wants to chat some more, but the work doesn’t wait.

She contacts Zeke as she drinks her first cup of coffee, and not even five minutes pass before he schedules another meeting with her.

There is no need for your editor to join us this time :)

Hange isn’t sure what irritates her more – Zeke’s apparent dislike of Levi or the stupid emoji.

However, Erwin’s words ring in her ear, yet another reminder that this is important, Hange, we can’t afford to blow this off, especially not with a man like Zeke on board. So she replies him with a stupid emoji of her own, and, gritting her teeth, adds that she is looking forward to their meeting.

Then, not wanting to repeat her last mistake, Hange checks the place Zeke has invited her to. This time it’s a restaurant, and a flashy one at that. The time he sets the meeting for – seven pm – is another hint that it is not a casual meeting, and therefore she needs to wear something better than her usual clothes.

She isn’t sure she can pull it off all by herself, though, and she isn’t sure there is at least one item of clothing in her closet that can be classified as fancy, so Hange asks Nanaba to help.

Nanaba agrees instantly, her eyes brightening up at the prospect. She promises to come over at the evening of the meeting with Zeke, bring some new clothes for Hange and pick up something classy.

At five pm sharp, just two hours before her meeting, Nanaba shows at Hange’s place, holding two large packages.

She doesn’t come alone, and with wide eyes Hange watches how Mike, Moblit and Levi trail inside her apartment after Nanaba.

“Erwin couldn’t make it, because he’s old and boring,” Nanaba cheerfully informs her. “But he asked to send him pictures of every look I’d pick for you.”

“Has anyone told you how wicked and vile you are?” Hange asks her with a glare that could almost rival Levi’s.

“Mike makes sure to tell me this regularly,” Nanaba flippantly replies. “Now go and get changed! We don’t have all evening.”

It takes five changes of clothes to finally find something that satisfies Nanaba’s fashion sense and doesn’t make Hange feel like she’s out of her element.

She is dressed in a dark brown suit with a black shirt underneath, and after Nanaba makes a controlled mess out of her hair, Hange has to agree – she looks very good.

“Let’s show you to the boys,” Nanaba whispers before taking a quick photo for Erwin. She pushes Hange into the living room, where Mike, Moblit and Levi are already waiting for her, all of them nursing a bottle of beer. “We’ve got yes from Erwin!” Nanaba cheerfully announces after checking her phone.

“That’s a definite yes from me too,” Mike nods in agreement.

“You look so handsome,” Moblit says earnestly, despite his shy smile.

Levi doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t tear his eyes away from Hange either. As she waits for his verdict, Hange wonders if the desire to change her look, because Levi obviously doesn’t like it, is simply stupid or downright pathetic.

“Levi,” Nanaba glowers at him, when the silence stretches for far too long.

Hange wants to deflate the tension with some joke, but then Levi clears his throat. “Not bad, four-eyes,” he says, making her heart stumble. “Go get that stupid monkey.”

Hange wants to hug him, so, so much, but she’s afraid to ruin the suit, so she settles on thanking him with a bright, happy smile.

Levi’s expression softens like that is all the thanks he desires.

“Continue making heart eyes at Levi, and you’ll miss your little meeting, Hans,” Nanaba whispers.

Hange hopes the red on her cheeks will be interpreted as anger, but Nanaba is right – she has to hurry, all this effort would be in vain if she arrives even a little too late.

“C’mon,” Mike wraps an arm around her shoulders. “We’ll give you a lift.”

Hange smiles, feeling so grateful – to all of them. She wouldn’t be ready for this evening if it wasn’t for Nanaba, she probably wouldn’t get that deal with Zeke if it wasn’t for Levi, her column wouldn’t be so successful if it wasn’t for Moblit’s assistance and Mike’s constant help, she wouldn’t have this job, this family if it wasn’t for Erwin who decided to hire her.

They all wish her luck one last time at the entrance of the restaurant. Nanaba and Moblit fruitlessly try to peek inside and get a glimpse of Zeke, when Levi wraps his hand around her wrist, dragging Hange aside.

“It’s Tuesday,” he says matter-of-factly.

More than a little confused, Hange blinks, then nods in affirmative, she knows it’s Tuesday, she’s not that disorganized.

“It’s Tuesday,” he repeats, tilting his head just so.

It is only then, to Hange’s shame, that she finally understands what he means.

“The letters, right?” she grins, proud of her own quick-wittedness. It took her only a moment to guess.

“I sent them over already. If you won’t be too exhausted after the meeting…”

“I’ll check them out as soon as I get home,” she promises.

There is nothing else to say, nothing else to do but walk away from Levi and inside the restaurant, where Zeke is probably waiting for her. Still… Hange is reluctant to leave. There is something between her and Levi, something almost tangible, and it keeps her glued to his side.

This feeling, it grows bigger, harder to ignore, until—

Until it disappears, when Nanaba tugs at her hand. Hange allows her friend to pull her away from Levi, stopping just for a second to turn around and wave him goodbye. Levi’s face is set in the usual scowl, but his gaze softens, and it fuels Hange with determination and resolve.

She looks around and, encouraged by her friends’ unwavering support, steps inside the restaurant.

***

Just as Hange predicted, Zeke is already there. When he notices her approach, he stands up and with a dazzling smile and pulls a chair for her.

“Hange Zoe,” he all but purrs. “You’re absolutely ravishing tonight.”

His words are too sweet, Zeke himself is too sweet to seem genuine, but Hange gives him a smile nevertheless. His compliment doesn’t succeed in making her heart race like Levi’s quiet ‘not bad, four-eyes’ did, but it still pleases her.

She doesn’t believe he truly means it, knows that Zeke uses flirting to get something out of her, but, oh well… if a man like Zeke Yeager wants something from her… isn’t it already fluttering?

“I took a liberty to order for you myself, if you don’t mind,” Zeke says.

Hange does mind, not that she can express it now, after Zeke already ordered. That’s exactly what he was counting for, Hange can very well see it – in the slight curve of his mouth and an amused shine in his eyes.

“As long as the meal is delicious,” she murmurs slyly.

Zeke laughs, and Hange mentally congratulates herself. Erwin would be so proud.

Speaking of Erwin…

“My boss agreed to your offer, he’s very interested in it and hopes…”

“Hange,” Zeke cuts her off with a wave of his hand. “We have work email to discuss things like that. Delicious food, beautiful night… why don’t we simply enjoy it? We can talk about work later.”

Hange frowns, looking at the man before her intently. For the life of her, she can’t comprehend what does he want from her.

“You’re a journalist with bright future ahead of you,” Zeke says, like he knows what exactly Hange is thinking about. “I want to help you succeed, but, aside from that, you’re an intriguing person. I simply wish to get to know you better. Is it so bad?”

Either she really sucks at reading people, or Zeke is that good of an actor, but… he seems genuine enough. Hange struggles with keeping her suspicion.

Before she can give him an answer, their food is brought in. The plate before Hange looks more expensive than she could probably afford, and she is pretty sure she won’t be able to even pronounce the name of a dish, but she takes a first bite, and… can barely resist a moan.

It’s good, really good – spicy but not bitter, and just crunchy and juicy enough.

“Is it delicious?” Zeke quirks an eyebrow, smug and amused.

The dish is so tasty, Hange can’t find it in herself to snap at him. “It’s perfect,” she confesses, sending another slice into her mouth.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it, to be honest, I was quite nervous about your reaction.”

Zeke doesn’t look nervous in the slightest, but if he’s so dead-set on playing a gentleman tonight, Hange can indulge him.

“So what exactly do you want to know about me?” she asks, pouring wine in both of their glasses.

“Ah, right,” Zeke pushes the glasses up his nose. “The first thing I’m interested in…”

***

They spend the whole dinner talking, jumping from one topic to another. Despite his arrogance, Zeke is an interesting man, he knows how to entertain and engage his companion, and so very soon Hange loses herself in conversation with him.

Time flies fast, and when they stand up from the table, Hange is shocked to discover that it’s almost ten in the evening.

Zeke remains a gentleman till the very end, and after paying their bill, he drives Hange home. He stops just outside of her apartment block, and when he turns off the engine, Hange knows she is ought to say something.

“I had fun. Thank you for the evening.” She says, and she means it. She doesn’t feel nearly as happy as when she is with her friends from Sina’s Gossips, but Zeke proved to be a good company. Hange is looking forward to working with him.

“I should be the one thanking you,” Zeke tilts his head, ever the charmer. “I’ll see you again?”

“Sure,” Hange agrees and gets out of the car. “Good night,” she yells into his open window and then hurries up the steps to her apartment.

Exhaustion sips into her bones the moment Hange crosses the threshold. She kicks off the shoes and takes off the suit, trudging up to the shower. Once she is clean and fresh, she falls onto her bed and gets under the blankets. Only then, Hange remembers her conversation with Levi.

With the last bit of her energy, she takes the phone into her hands and unlocks it, going immediately to the mail. She isn’t awake enough to read all the letters, so she just quickly scrolls through them. A thank you message from a man who found his lobster… a distraught mother who doesn’t know how to communicate with her son… a middle-aged teacher with a mid-life crisis… Hange scrolls further down, until she sees a familiar username.

She smiles and opens the letter.

Good day, and thank you again for the last advice. Admittedly, I was a bit skeptical about it, “trust that she knows you well enough” seemed just that side of too easy, but I think she does know me well enough to see through my rude exterior. What’s more, I think she knows me well enough to see things I don’t even wish to show her. I can’t yet decide if that’s a good thing, or a terrifying one.

Alas, there is another problem, one that bothers me constantly.

Without getting too much into details… there is a chance she might leave the company we both work for. I know it might not seem that awful, we can still remain friends even if we don’t work together, but… I’m afraid we’ll drift apart when she leaves. Without common ground, without our friends bringing us together, she wouldn’t have a reason to talk to me. Maybe, she wouldn’t even want to.

But that’s not the thing that bothers me the most. She hasn’t yet decided if she wants to leave or not, and, as much as I am reluctant to let her go, I… I wish she follows her dreams, even if they tear us apart. But she’s perceptive, and, as I’ve mentioned before, she knows things about me that I very well try to hide. So what if she learns about my reluctance? What if it somehow influences her final decision?

I don’t wish for that to happen, whether she stays or she leaves, I don’t want to be her reason for either.

Because if she grows to be unhappy about that decision… I don’t think I’ll be able to take.

I… don’t think I’ve explained my point clear enough, maybe, because it’s not clear enough in my mind too. However, as always, I put my trust in you.

You haven’t left me down before, after all.

Thanks for bearing with me. Hopefully, it’s not the last time.

Hange groans in frustration, as she comes to an end of the letter. Here she was hoping to receive some sweet news from her lover boy, but he presented her with another dilemma instead. And one that is so similar to hers too. Maybe, it’s a sign, a way of universe telling her… something. The message is not yet clear enough.

Perhaps, with a little time, she’ll be able to decipher it. But as for now, Hange decides, putting the phone on top of the bedside table, the only thing she really, really needs is sleep.

And, thankfully, it comes to her easily.

***

The next day Hange dives deep into work and stays in the depth of articles, lectures, textbooks and letters from readers for entire two weeks.

In almost everything, Zeke is the one to assist her. Email exchange, video calls, personal meetings… because of all that, Zeke seems to be constantly by her side.

He invites her to his company, organizes the tour around the offices, introduces her to every employee. They’re nice, Hange supposes. Overly politely and unnaturally friendly, but that’s to be expected from total strangers.

Zeke shows her his office – a big room with glass walls and large window that overlooks the city. It drives to a point just how different their newspapers are. It almost makes Hange self-conscious about inviting him to her own office. Thankfully, Levi is there to chase away any discomfort.

As soon as Zeke gets inside their office, Levi is there, glaring at him like he’s trying to burn a hole in his head.

“As Hange’s editor, I’m here to oversee your work with her,” he explains, and proceeds to critique everything Zeke does.

Zeke’s habit of scratching his ear makes him look like a monkey and his beard makes him look like a homeless person, his voice makes Levi’s head hurt, his cologne stinks, he talks too much and works too little, his jokes aren’t funny and his remarks are unnecessary. Levi finds a way to insult everything about Zeke.

Hange would have reprimanded him, she did a few times, but she can’t deny that Levi’s hatred is… kind of funny. It’s petty and childish, but at the same time hilarious to the point that Hange has to constantly bite the inside of her cheeks otherwise she’d be laughing at his jabs like a mad person.

Still, Zeke is an important business partner and her possible colleague, so…

“Please forgive Levi for his… lack of professionalism,” she tells Zeke when Levi leaves to bring them tea. Just moments before Levi had called Zeke ‘an insufferable snob who doesn’t give a single fuck about people around him’, so naturally, Hange feels that apology in an absolute necessity this time.

“Don’t worry, I’m not offended,” Zeke smiles, and it looks just that side of arrogant, reminding Hange about Levi’s words and making her feel like maybe, his assertion of Zeke isn’t entirely wrong. “His reason for acting like that is perfectly understandable. When one stands between a man and his… well,” Zeke trails off, staring at Hange enigmatically.

His what? Zeke is standing between Levi and… what? Is it the reason why they don’t like each other so much? Is it something that happened in the past? Or is it a recent development?

Hange wants to ask, but the moment for this is lost, when Levi comes back, holding a trail in his hands.

“I spat into your coffee,” he says to Zeke with the most deadpan expression. If Hange didn’t know Levi a little better, she’d believe that he actually did it. But Zeke isn’t fooled so easily, so he just wolfishly grins and thanks Levi in a sweet voice. Levi swears under his breath and then turns to Hange, murmuring, “Yours is with three sugars.”

“Just as you like it,” Zeke sing-songs, and Hange can’t stop laughter from bubbling out of her throat at the sight of pure hatred on Levi’s usually indifferent face.

“Let’s get back to work,” she says, still chuckling.

Thankfully, they both listen to her.

***

When Zeke leaves to return to his own office, Hange breathes out in relief. She stretches her arms and sprawls out her long legs beneath the desk with a pleased hum. Working with Zeke is satisfying enough, but with just Levi around, she feels much more at ease.

“So,” she nudges his foot with her leg. “What’s up with you and Zeke? What is the source of a drama?” and, remembering Zeke’s previous comment Hange adds, “Did he steal your crush or what?”

Levi looks affronted. He glares at Hange, hands crossed on his chest and a slight pout curving his lips.

Hange thinks he’s going to tell her to fuck off, almost expects him too, but this time, Levi surprises her.

“Remember my cousin? Mikasa?”

Of course, Hange does. How could she ever forget Mikasa, the only person in this world with a scowl as scary as Levi’s?

“Well, Zeke has a little brother, a brat named Eren.”

Hange nods, she vaguely remembers Levi mentioning some brother, and, more than once, Zeke had bragged to her about Eren, his darling sibling.

“He and Mikasa are friends, and my idiot cousin has been pining after him for years.”

Hange has some troubles imagining a pining Ackerman, and she briefly wonders what Levi would act like, if he had been pining after someone. Can he even pine?

“Eren had been an asshole to her, even made her cry once, so...”

“So?” Hange prompts, practically at the edge of her seat.

“So I decided to teach him a lesson. I wanted to scare him a bit, but it kinda backfired when Zeke spotted the two of us. I wasn’t going to punch him or anything, but apparently that’s how it looked.”

“And?”

Levi sighs. “And Zeke did what he could to protect his little brother.”

“He punched you?” Hange’s eyes are wide, as she tries to imagine that particular scene. Zeke is so much bigger than Levi, if he had punched him… Hange suddenly feels very angry.

“No, although I wish he did. It happened just outside of our university, and so Zeke had me reported to the dean. Something about assaulting a minor… it almost got me expelled.”

“What a fucker,” Hange growls, her fist clenching involuntarily. She knew just how hard it was for Levi to get into that university and pay for the classes, and to think that he nearly got expelled because of something so stupid…

“It was an asshole move, I agree. But a part of me actually understands him.”

“Huh? Why?”

Hange can’t even fathom a reason to defend what Zeke did. She knows she would never forgive him for that. It doesn’t seem like Levi has forgiven him either, but he understands him? Hange doesn’t think she would be as gracious.

“Do you have a sibling, four-eyes?” Levi asks. “Or a cousin?”

“No.”

With a thoughtful expression, he hums. “That’s why you don’t understand.”

His answer confuses Hange. And at the same time, it intrigues her. She knows that a bond between siblings is a special one, and as an only child, she can’t grasp the meaning of it. Levi seems to cherish his relationship with Mikasa, even if he always calls her a brat and complains about her bad manners. It must be nice to have someone, a friend that lives with you in the same house. Hange can’t exactly imagine it, but she acknowledges the importance of it anyway.

“But enough of this,” Levi says, bringing her out of her thoughts. “Your collaboration with Zeke is almost at its end. Your article will come out in a few days, have you decided what are you going to do next? Have you already told Erwin that Zeke offered you a place at his newspaper?”

“I haven’t.”

She doesn’t quite know how to approach this conversation. What’s more, she doesn’t quite know what her decision is. Money Island is an opportunity that shouldn’t be ignored, Hange doesn’t want to ignore it. A resignation letter that is hidden inside the desk's drawer is a testament to this. It will give her career a boost she always dreamed of, and Hange can’t let it just slide past her. She isn’t going to, probably, but… she is reluctant.

“We still don’t know if our collaboration will turn out to be a success or not,” she adds, an attempt to justify her indecisiveness. “Maybe, Zeke wouldn’t want to do anything with me, if we fail.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Levi rolls his eyes, apparently refusing to even entertain this idea. “The article will be a success. And you’ll do great at that job.”

Hange snickers in an attempt to lighten up the mood, to distract Levi from her unease. “Sounds like you just want to get rid of me.”

“It’s your decision,” Levi doesn’t deny, not confirm her comment. It sets Hange just a little further on edge. “What I want doesn’t matter whatsoever.”

His words sound familiar, strangely so, but Hange refuses to think about it any further. The words might sound like those from the lover boy’s letter, but the context is different. Levi and him are different. And whoever lover boy is devoted to, Hange is sure that she and that person are different too.

“I’m starving,” Levi stands up, a bit too abruptly, but Hange is too lost in her thoughts to take note of it. “Let’s steal some food from Mike.”

Hange smiles, grateful for the offer, and stands up to join Levi. “I saw Erwin bring yoghurt today.”

“We need to hurry then,” he grabs her hand, quickening her stride. “Otherwise Nanaba will steal it before we even have a chance.”

Hange laughs and eagerly follows after him.

***

When the article finally comes out, it turns out to be a glaring success. Both newspapers gain new audience, a number of newcomers bigger than Erwin had anticipated.

Everyone is happy and proud of Hange accomplishment. No one is surprised at her success.

Mike, Nanaba and Moblit all but run into her office, interrupting each other in their haste to congratulate her.

Levi is the last one to approach her. He wears an unusually open, almost happy expression.

“Told you’d do great,” he murmurs.

Hange knows she shouldn’t do it, knows that Levi won’t enjoy it, his aversion to invasion of his personal space is proverbial, but… Hange accomplished a lot, right? She deserves a little celebratory gift.

With that in mind, she shortens the distance between them and goes in for the tightest, squishiest hug she had in a while.

Levi grunts his protest, but doesn’t object further. In a move that sets Hange’s heart ablaze, he wraps his arms around her too.

Hange likes hugs, receives lots of them – at parties, she often cuddles with Nanaba and Mike, sometimes falls asleep with Erwin holding her close, and Moblit always gets too clingy when he has a little too much to drink. She enjoys embracing her friends, but a hug from Levi – perhaps, Hange tries to reason, because it is such a rare occurrence – makes her brim with unbridled happiness.

***

After the short, but very much enjoyed celebratory hug, Hange invites her friends to get celebratory drinks.

The evening is great, it is filled with pleasant conversation and so much laughter that Hange’s stomach starts to ache from it. The evening is great, could have been perfect… if Hange could forget about the resignation letter that is hidden inside her desk’s drawer.

It is a little after midnight, when they leave the bar and call it a night. But while everyone else heads to their homes, Hange decides to come to the office.

Almost wistfully, she turns on the computer. The first thing she sees is the time and the date, displayed at the bottom of a screen, that tells her it’s the early hours of Wednesday.

The second thing she sees is a notification that Levi sent her a letter.

Right. It’s letters day. Perhaps, the last one for her.

Hange opens the mail, her eyes instantly searching for the familiar username. She doesn’t find it.

She goes through the whole archive again, this time much slower. Still nothing. Then – what if third time is a charm – she scrolls down to the bottom once more. And…

No luck.

It’s the first time in a while that Hange doesn’t receive a letter from the lover boy. It can be a good thing, she supposes. Maybe, the lover boy finally confessed and his beloved stayed with him. Maybe, that’s why he doesn’t need her advices anymore. Or, maybe… Maybe, she left. That will explain the absence of the letter too.

It’s just a letter, from a total stranger at that, but Hange feels sad. Her eyes water as she stares at the computer screen.

She can’t help but wonder – did lover boy’s beloved know about his feelings? Did she decide to leave anyway? Or was she none the wiser about the extent of his affections towards her? If so, did she regret leaving him behind?

Would Hange herself regret leaving her job and friends?

She’s not sure. The worst thing about regret is that it doesn’t appear until after you’ve already done something.

Maybe, she will regret it, maybe, she won’t. The only way to find out is to keep moving forward.

With a heavy heart and tear-streaked face, Hange takes the resignation letter out of the drawer.

***

When she breaks the news to Erwin, he is not at all surprised. He’s not even angry or disappointed, he doesn’t ask to reconsider. A part of Hange wishes he did. That would give her an excuse to stay.

His smile is sad, but at the same time it’s proud. He thanks Hange for three years of hard work and wishes her the best of luck.

“When you’ll get rich and famous,” he says as he wraps his arm around her. “Think of us sometimes, even if briefly.”

Hange’s answering laugh sounds more like a sob. “How could I ever forget all of you?”

Erwin chuckles and wipes away her tears. “You’re a star, Hange, don’t you ever doubt it.”

***

Her last day at work ends with Hange getting shit-faced at their favorite bar. Everyone else is just as drunk as she is – Nanaba refuses to let go of her arm, Mike keeps asking her to call him every day, and Moblit has already cried for three times.

The only semi-sober ones are Erwin, who has to show up to shareholders’ meeting tomorrow morning, and Levi, who is an abnormal human being that alcohol holds no power over.

In the end, he is the one tasked to bring Hange home.

For the entire of their ride to her apartment complex, Hange does her best to behave. She breaks down as soon as they get inside.

Apparently thinking that forcing her to shower would be too much of a bother, Levi leads her straight to the bedroom.

Hange doesn’t fight it, too exhausted to do so, but when Levi starts tucking her in, she grabs his wrist.

“Levi,” she says, and the amount of alcohol she consumed earlier makes it easier to not give a fuck that her voice sounds almost pleading. “Levi, what do you think about me leaving?”

Levi has said nothing on the topic throughout the whole evening. And, while he has given her a hint about his stance on it before, and it probably wouldn’t matter at all, since she is going to leave anyway, Hange still wants to know.

“I told you before,” he doesn’t pull his hand away from her grasp, if anything he moves a little closer, sitting at the edge of her bed. “My opinion doesn’t matter.”

“It matters,” Hange assures. “To me, it matters.”

“It shouldn’t.”

“Do you want me to stay?” she looks deep into his eyes, but be it the influence of alcohol or the absence of her glasses… she can’t read him at all. “If you really do, maybe—”

“No.” Levi cuts her off sharply. “No, Hange, there is no maybe. It’s your decision, and my feelings can’t become your reason.”

Again, the words are familiar, but Hange is drunk. Hange is filled with alcohol and conflicting emotions and lingering doubts. Besides, she’s too lost in the intense look inside Levi’s eyes to make sense of anything else.

“Good night,” Levi whispers, pressing his lips to her forehead in a feather light, achingly gentle kiss. “I hope you will be happy.”

He leaves just before Hange thinks of asking him to stay.

***

Hange swears to stay in touch with everyone at Sina’s Gossips, and she fully intends to keep that promise, but then— then the work gets in the way.

Her first week at Money Island is all but a blur. There is so much to do, so much to learn, and Hange gets lost in it almost immediately.

She stays in the office after hours, she works during weekends, every waking moment is essentially spent on trying to make sense of it all. The employees of Money Island help, which Hange is immensely grateful for, and she is no stranger to working after hours, but… what made her power through it before is not there anymore.

After two weeks she spends on her new job, Hange can’t deny it anymore – her new position is boring.

All these numbers, charts, net worth, stocks options, so on and so forth… it’s so dull and tiresome, it sucks all of Hange’s enthusiasm and inspiration.

That thrill, that excitement, it isn’t there anymore, there is no passion to fuel her, no purpose worth pursuing.

At least, her new colleagues are nice enough. However… Hange can’t help but compare them to her old ones.

Pieck is funny and kind, but not nearly as kind as Nanaba. Porco’s jokes, no matter what he thinks about them, aren’t as hilarious as Mike’s, and watching the development of his relationship with Pieck doesn’t give Hange the same thrill as Nanaba and Mike’s relationship did. Onyankopon is so polite, and he’s always ready to help, but he isn’t as endearingly awkward and cute as Moblit. Her new boss, Magath, isn’t half the man Erwin is. And Zeke… Zeke doesn’t even begin to compare with Levi.

Hange wants to like them, she really does, but all this work leaves little to no time to hang out with her friends, and their absence makes her more unwilling to connect with the new colleagues.

Out of sheer stubbornness, Hange continues working for another two weeks, hoping that maybe, with just enough time, she’ll get her spark back.

She is in the middle of writing another article, something about yet another failing company, when her phone pings, announcing a notification. Taking it a sign from above that she needs to take a break, Hange looks away from the computer screen and redirects her attention to the phone.

The notification announces a new letter, to her personal account. Intrigued, Hange opens it and almost squeals when she sees the username.

[email protected]

Hange stares at it for a long, long moment. The letter isn’t redirected as it usually was, meaning… the lover boy knows her personal mail address, or…

The lover boy is someone she actually knows.

Not sure which one is more improbable, Hange opens the letter. It’s an unusually short one.

It’s been almost a month since she left. I still miss her every damn day. Do you have any advice how to stop it?

In that moment, everything clicks. Every coincidence and conjunction, every moment she felt like she could connect to the lover boy, every time his dilemma perfectly reflected her own. The fact that he knows her email address and the fact that he mentioned one month, precisely the amount of time that passed since she left Sina’s Gossips… there are too many seemingly random things that together create a clear enough picture.

Hange rereads the letter again, just to make sure that it’s real, just to make sure that she isn’t imagining it, that it isn’t wishful thinking.

It doesn’t seem like it is, Hange doesn’t believe it is, and a realization forces a surprised, happy laugh out of her throat.

It takes her but a moment to set her mind, and then, Hange closes the word document with an article, not bothering to save it. She opens another one right after that, and starts writing what will be another resignation letter, this time addressed to CEO of Money Island, Theo Magath. When she finishes, Hange opens powerpoint and proceeds to make a presentation that consists of almost eighty slides.

Perhaps, not her best work, but Hange is confident it will suffice.

She doesn’t bother waiting for Magath to come back from his meeting to give him a letter. She bumps into Zeke just as she exits the small office they gave her, and she thrusts the resignation letter into his hands before he can pull her into one of his endless, mostly one-sided conversation that serve mainly to stroke his ego.

When he takes a look at the letter, Zeke seems regretful, but— not at all surprised.

“I hoped you’d stay with us for a little longer…” he confesses with a slow shake of his head. “But I guess we can’t do what we don’t love.”

“I’m sorry,” Hange says, a small compensation.

“Don’t be,” Zeke waves her off, as easily and smoothly as he does everything else. “However, if you ever decide to go on a date with someone taller than a middle-schooler…”

Really, even Zeke knows? Is she that oblivious?

“You’ll be the first one to know,” Hange laughs, feeling lighter than she did in weeks.

Without wasting anymore time, Hange ducks into her office, grabs what little things she brought here and then rushes to small, not at all impressive, but so dearly loved building of Sina’s Gossips.

Just before entering, she stops and looks up at the front door. Finally… she feels at peace.

A moment is all she allows, before she walks inside.

Her first stop is Erwin’s office, where Hange plugs a USB and starts her presentation before Erwin can even ask what she’s doing here. It takes absolutely nothing to convince him to give her position back, but it does take the whole eighty slides to make him at the very least consider her new proposition – a new segment where Hange will be observing local news. It’s not much, but it’s a start, and a promising one at that.

“But I still need you to take care of the advice column,” Erwin warns just after he surrenders to Hange’s enthusiasm that slowly starts to come back to her. “Mike is quite terrible at it.”

“Consider it done, chief!” Hange exclaims with a quick salute.

Erwin smiles and stands up to embrace her. “Then, Hange Zoe, welcome back to Sina’s Gossips.”

Hange is smiling so much, she worries that her face might break.

After Erwin, she runs straight into Nanaba’s arms. As they embrace, Nanaba laughs, then cries, then laughs again.

“God, Hange, I’m so happy you came back,” she says, wiping her tears. “I was this close to dying of boredom.”

“You don’t know boredom until you’ve worked in finance, Nana.”

They laugh in unison, and Hange’s heart is full of affection, when Nanaba wetly kisses her cheek.

Just before stopping at Moblit’s desk, Hange heads to break room and is lucky enough to find Mike eating a sandwich there.

Hange steals it with a delighted laughter, instantly taking a huge bite.

“Never thought I’d miss someone stealing my food,” he shakes his head with a big smile. “But here we are, I guess. It’s good to have you back, Hans.”

At first, Moblit doesn’t actually believe she is real. He rubs his eyes and squints at her, tentatively touches her arm, gives her another once-over, and whatever he noticed – perhaps, it’s her mismatched socks – convinces him that he isn’t seeing things.

And then gathers her in his arms.

“They made me work with Levi,” he whispers into her shoulders. “Please, don’t leave me again.”

Hange laughs – she does it a lot today, compensating for that month she spent feeling sorry for herself – and pats Moblit’s shoulder.

“Speaking of our favorite shorty, where is he?”

“In his office, probably brooding as always. Since you left, he’s been doing it more often. ”

Hange thanks Moblit with a quick peck on his cheek, and then she is moving again, now heading to her final destination.

The inside of Levi’s office is dark, and awfully quiet. The only sound is the click-clack of the keyboard and the only light comes from the computer screen. It further highlights the dark circle under his eyes and the overall paleness of his face.

Hange clears her throat to get his attention.

Levi’s eyes snap to her, widening almost immediately. There is an ocean of questions, ready to spill from his lips, but Hange doesn’t give him a chance to voice any of them.

“So there is this guy, he’s been sending letters to me since forever. He’s so sweet, a true romantic, and, well, his letters were kinda the highlight of my week,” she pauses to take a quick breath, and continues. “And I’ve been rooting so hard for him, you know? I wanted him to get together with that sweetheart of his, but I also felt like she was kinda oblivious, if you get what I’m talking about. Perhaps, not completely blind, but with a vision poor enough to miss what is right in front of her. Or, perhaps, she always has her head up in the clouds and the guy is a little short, so it’s easy to miss him? And-”

“So you’ve figured it out then?” Levi interrupts her. His calmness makes Hange more nervous.

“I have.”

“Only now?”

“Yes.”

“Hm,” a ghost of a smile dances around his narrow lips. “Completely blind then.”

Hange huffs, but she can’t resist a smile of her own. She takes a step towards his desk, hopping right on top of it.

“Just so we’re clear,” she touches his forearm, slowly moving her hand up to his shoulder. “You weren’t my reason to leave, Levi. And you aren’t the reason I’m staying. But,” she leans in, hoping that Levi is not as stupid and she is, and he gets the hint that she wants him to lean closer too. “You’re the reason I decided to come back. And for that, I can’t thank you enough.”

Hange closes her eyes, when Levi gently cups her cheek. With bated breath, she waits to feel his lips on hers.

Her lover boy doesn’t disappoint, and the gentle, loving kiss makes her head spin.

After a short moment of bliss, Levi pulls away, and Hange has to forcefully stop herself from chasing after his lips. He smirks at the dazed look in her eyes, and Hange just has to retaliate.

She strokes the skin of his cheek with the most tender of touches, shortening the distance between them with tantalizingly slow speed. Just when they’re less than a breath apart, Hange whispers, in a quiet, endlessly soft voice, “You know, Levi, wings of freedom is a really stupid username.”

Levi pushes her off the desk for that, but it’s still worth it. Even more so, since he catches her right in his arms.

And then her lover boy kisses her again. And again, and again, until her heart is so full of love that she can’t even find it in her to get angry at Mike, who snaps a picture of them and runs away to tell everyone the news.

“They’ll be gossiping about that for weeks,” Levi grumbles.

Hange laughs, smoothing the crease between his eyebrows. “Well, it’s Sina’s Gossips we’re working at. And didn’t you know? Love for the gossip is the requirement to get a position here.”

#basically yet another silly romcom from me :) #levihan

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The General (part 4): Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: escape sounds good. but is it better than staying?

wc: 2.6k

tw: sexual assault and death

a/n: please don’t kill me. This is plot. No smut to be found quite yet. I’m really trying to save up my smut cards for something really big lol

masterlist

 Everything is on fire. Everyone is running around you, because for some reason, you’re walking toward the flames. Screams echo in your ears and the feeling of something tugging you into the burning building that looked like your home is too strong to ignore. When you push the door to your house open, your mother is hovering over your father, who is bleeding out as you watch in horror. When your mother looks up at you, she’s crying fat tears of sorrow, then she whispers:

“You did this, y/n. You let that monster into our town, and now look at what you’ve done.” 

A hand smooths over your face as you twist and turn, but you don’t realize it’s the General until you open your eyes, the light from the moon blocked by his body. “You’re okay. Don’t worry; no one’s going to hurt you here,” he whispers, despite having hurt you before. You push his hand away and sit up, clutching your knees to your chest as you catch your breath. “Nightmare?” he asks, and for a second, you’re wondering if he’s saying that he had a nightmare. But then you feel the sweat around the nape of your neck and on your chest, and remember the feeling of helplessness you just emerged from. You nod, looking around the tent at the table, papers, the ink, the discarded haori near the seat…

“You’re up late,” you mention - trying to change the subject - and the General huffs a laugh, pushing back his hair like he always did before he launched into an explanation. Why didn’t he just tie it up? 

“I do my best work right before the midnight hours. You’d be surprised at the formations I can create with just a hint of alertness left in my body.” He turns back to you, touching your foot with a broad hand. “Do you want to talk about your dream?”

“No,” you answer quickly, hoping he would drop the subject. 

“Then let me have Kaori fetch you some water for a bath. I would hate for you to remain as sweaty as you are.” You slide off the bed, walking around to the little desk area that held stacks of papers and diagrams and sliding one free from the stack. 

“You draw maps?” 

“Cartographers are not cheap, little one. I’ve canvassed a massive effort to make a map of every place I’ve been to… Nanami is very helpful with this, as well. He’s so attentive to details that I might have missed, so I rely on his help more often than not.” 

“And Haibara?” 

“Yu? He’s pretty easy to get along with as well. He’s my mentee, if you really consider it. If I have no children, he will inherit the throne after me.” 

“What about Gojo?” you question, sliding a map of the surrounding area forward and examining it carefully. As he drones on about the blue eyed man, you make sure your eyes cover every inch of the map and memorize the routes in and out of the camp. If you could just find a way to get over to the edge of the camp, you could easily hitch a ride back to your hometown and tell everyone about the General’s whereabouts. And expose Yuko for the traitor he is. 

“But do you enjoy your time with Kaori? I purposefully made her the head of maids so she would tend to you and you alone.” 

“Ah,” you push the map away and smile up at Geto, having finally found your escape route. “She’s lovely.” 

And Kaori would be even more lovely once she helped you with your plan to run away. 

_______________________________________________________________________

“How do you feel today?” Kaori wonders as you dress in your standard blue kimono.

“Quite well,” you answer, smiling back at her. She raises a brow, a grin forming on her lips. 

“Might this have anything to do with Master Geto?” 

You look back at the maid, and give her your best fake grin. “Maybe.” Kaori hums in surprise, then gathers her things up before leaving you alone again. “Oh, I almost forgot,” you begin, tying the kimono closed. “Could you bring me an extra pear or two with lunch today? I have a craving for them right now.” Kaori nods and bows slightly before walking out of the tent. 

Map? Check.

Clothes? Check.

Extra food? Check. 

The entire morning is spent pouring over the map, tracking your path in and out of the compound. You would have to walk a considerable distance, but it was perfectly fine. If you could manage to secure a horse, you’d probably get halfway home before anyone noticed you were missing, and that was a considerable head start. 

Your plan went into effect as soon as they announced dinner, and you wait patiently for Geto to come fetch you for the evening meal, laying in his bed with a pained expression. When he comes inside, he sees you clutching your stomach and hanging over the side of the bed a little. 

“Are you unwell?” he asks immediately, stooping by the bedside and smoothing your hair away from your face. You shake your head slowly, all of it an act, and he grumbles something about ‘knowing the food was undercooked at lunch’. Little did he know that you had stowed it away, along with a spare kimono of his and rudimentary copy of the map. 

You fake a cough for emphasis, and his hands fly to your face, patting the tender flesh of your cheeks and forehead. “You’re warm. I’ll have Kaori come and attend to-” 

“I don’t want her to catch what I have,” you moan, rolling over on your left side. 

“You shouldn’t be alone like this,” Geto urges, eyes frantically looking around the tent space for something. “I’ll… I’ll eat dinner here, then. I’ll stay with you.” You shake your head weakly, ignoring his panicked expression. 

“I can’t bear the smell of food right now… I just need some rest.” 

“And you shall have it,” Geto whispers, placing a tender kiss on your left hand. “I’ll be back within the hour to check on you.” And with that, he leaves you in the tent. When you suspect that he - and as a result, his friends - are all gone to eat, you slide out of the bed and retrieve your sack of things hidden underneath it. 

It isn’t escaping the camp that’s hard.

It’s running through the dead of night with only a sliver of moon to guide you that is most difficult. 

Without the daylight, you could easily mistake a patch of trees for a forest and river for a ravine. But it doesn’t matter. Your father had taught you how to tell the North from the South and the East from the West, and you relied on those skills now to guide you out of the camp. First, you have to locate the brightest star in the sky and just follow it to get on the right path. If it is directly overhead, you’d be on your way to determining which way to go. The makeshift map you have is telling you that you should wander northeast to get out of the confines of the camp, and you would be well on your way to your hometown. 

Except… 

You look back at the lights dotted around the camp behind you. 

What if you stayed? What if you stayed and made friends with the General? What if you stayed, made friends with the General, and then lured him in with a false sense of security? You adjust the sack on your back and think for a moment more.

He had let you remain in the tent by yourself. Not only was it a sign that he was finally beginning to trust you while you were alone, but also while you had all of the opportunity to escape, like you were now. Either that, or he’s more than confident that he would be able to find you and drag you back so he could execute his plan properly. 

The only thing that would come from you attempting to run away would be a chase, and you would more than likely be caught without a horse. Then, Geto would not hesitate to discipline you and make you submit to his will, and possibly never trust you again. 

“Flattery is the best persuader of people,” your father used to murmur, but you didn’t believe it back then; rolling your eyes at his old sayings. But now… perhaps you could work this to your advantage by staying. 

You trek back with the pack, dumping everything except the kimono nearby to avoid any suspicion. The kimono is placed back where it had been before, and you slump onto the bed - facing away from the tent opening - groaning with exhaustion and anxiety. 

The General returns what feels like a few minutes later and runs a hand down your back with care, humming in the darkness. He’s unsteady on his feet, it sounds like, and he anchors himself on the bed with one knee, leaning over you to brush a lock of hair away from your face. 

“If there’s one thing I know about Yuko,” he breathes, words tumbling out of his mouth like a bucket of apples. “He didn’t lie about beauty or character.” Geto slides in next you, wrapping an arm around your waist protectively and nestling his face into the crook of your neck. He places a kiss below your earlobe, then almost instantly afterward, he’s asleep. 

And although you want to squirm out of his arms and give him what-for, you don’t. The resolve in your new plan has set you on a path of compromise, and you would see this through until the end.

_______________________________________________________________________

Lips. They’re everywhere. On your face, trailing down your neck and accompanied by touches that stoke the flames of a fire you didn’t realize you had burning inside of you. 

When your eyes flutter open, it’s still night, but the General has let the wine go to his head. You let out an involuntary moan at the feeling of his fingers gripping the skin underneath your kimono before you snatch yourself out of his grasp, tumbling to the floor below and remembering how much you hated him. 

“Y/n… are you..” he hiccups a little. “Are you alright?” You push off of the ground in a fury, dusting yourself off and facing away from him as you yell:

“How dare you go back on your promise to not defile me, you filthy swine! Touching me in my sleep is low for even you, Your Majesty!” You spit the last two words at him, then stomp towards the flaps of the tent, which open with a flutter before you can get to them. 

Geto steps inside, his eyes meeting yours in a confused stare. 

“I heard you yelling and I--” He looks over your shoulder and frowns, squinting his eyes at the figure in the bed. “Get up.” When the man stumbles to the floor, Geto pulls you in behind him, shielding you from who really occupied the bed. 

“M-Master Geto, I can expla--” 

“Silence.” The deep bass of the General’s voice is unmatched, deadly, and practically telling of the punishment to come. Haibara and Gojo walk past you into the tent behind Geto, making lanterns glow and illuminate the tent space. “Do you know this man?” Geto roars, pointing an accusing finger at the offender as he turns to you, throwing daggers with his eyes. You look at the soon-to-be dead man, nostrils flaring. But you don’t recognize his face, nor his body. Nothing about this person is familiar.

“No, sir,” you state, and Geto starts a little at the sound of the formality falling from your lips. 

“Has he touched you in any way?” Your skin is crawling with what feels like a thousand little bugs, and you clutch your elbows instinctively. In one smooth motion, Geto turns to Gojo, who nods his head once and grabs the man’s hair, dragging him past you and Haibara as his screams of pain echo into the night. You feel two hands resting on your shoulders as you stare at the tent flaps, the fluttering of them barely revealing the man’s fate. It’s only when the screaming stops that you turn to Geto. “Are you hurt?” he asks, dipping his head a little to look into your eyes with his piercing black ones. 

“No, I’m fine.” 

“Where did he touch you?” You look over to Haibara, and Geto does as well, before waving the youth off. “Make sure Gojo takes care of…” 

“Of course,” Haibara replies, and with a sad smile thrown your way, he departs. Geto turns his attention back to you, taking your wrists in his hands. 

“Show me.” You move a hand across your chest and down your right thigh, grazing the spot where the man had grabbed you roughly. Then you swipe at your neck and face. “My gods,” he breathes before pulling you close. Tears threaten to leak out of your eyes, but you hold them at bay, trying to maintain the hysterics for later when you were alone. “I should have stayed.” 

“I should have let you.” 

_______________________________________________________________________

You awake enveloped in Geto’s warmth, unsure of when you fell asleep for the second time, but thankful for the body heat that wards off the night-time chill. When you move away from him, he does not awaken, but does stir a little. 

And that’s when you see it. The dragon on his arm is moving it’s head back and forth, eyes blinking lazily. At first you think you’re hallucinating, but when you rub your eyes and peer closer, it’s still moving; the entirety of its body doing a little dance side to side. 

“You should see it after a battle,” Geto murmurs sleepily, eyes trained on your astonished face. “Dancing is just how it wakes itself up.” You stare at the mythical being in silence, unsure of whether the true beast was the man before you or the tattoo on his arm. “How are you feeling?” Geto finally breaks the silence, sitting up and pushing himself out of the bed. 

“I feel alright.” He takes your hand, lifting it up to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to the back. You pause, unsure of how to respond to such a gesture, but Geto keeps moving around the tent, adjusting the sheets and running his hands through his hair. 

“Have you ever thought about braiding it?” you wonder, and Geto looks over at you with an amused look. 

“I have; but no one here is skilled enough to braid - not even Kaori.” 

Wordlessly, you trek over to him and thread the locks of hair through your fingers. 

“How do you keep it so clean when you’re on the battlefield?” you wonder aloud, and Geto chuckles. 

“Water is a resource that I take full advantage of, little one.” He instinctively stops his movements and angles his head back so you can work the strands one over the other, finally ending the long braid with a simple strip of fabric from the edge of your kimono. 

“There.” Geto pulls the braid over his shoulder and examines it carefully, humming at the sight of your handiwork. 

“This is interesting, to say the least.” 

“It will keep things from getting caught in your hair, and I’m sure it feels much less ‘all over the place’.” 

“Indeed, it does,” he breathes, then reaches a hand out to touch your cheek affectionately. Without thinking, you lean into his touch, and after taking half a step forward, Geto places a kiss on your forehead. After this signal of affection, he leaves, making you wonder what was wrong with your face and if you actually had a fever - because your cheeks felt hotter than they had ever felt before. 

#geto x reader #jjk geto #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen getou #getou x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk gojo #jjk haibara

[yunhoez]

Swell

♄ pairings: suna x reader (in their 20s)

♄ genre: romance, angst, bestfriends to lovers (if u keep one eye open)

♄ warnings: cussing, smoking, suna & atsumu aren't volleyball players okay (don't yell at me), sfw for now

♄ wc: 2.4k

♄ a/n: okay so this is based on a script I wrote (it’s gonna be a film soon hehe), but considering I have to keep it short I wanted to continue it on as a fic! thank you to @chifuyuzu, @arumiee, @psmugglerr, and Mal♡ for encouraging me to do this and reading it <3 I hope y’all enjoy!

♄ songs - Swell by Lunar Vacation, I Don't Know You by The Marias

_______________________________________________

The low humming of the car and soft music coming from the radio sends you into a trance as you look out at the familiar streets of your hometown. Your head pressed against the seat feels heavy with the thought of being back in the place you ran away from. Your gaze trails to the two in the front seat, the streetlights hitting them enough for you to make out their features you’ve seemed to forget. Ava hums to the song on the radio lightly, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. Atsumu’s eyes are fixed on the road before he turns toward Ava and rubs her back slightly. She shoots him a small smile before returning her gaze to the road. The aching feeling in your heart swells, making your stomach churn.

“It’s weird.” You say, breaking the peaceful silence that once graced the car.

“Hm?” Ava hums, looking at you through the rearview mirror.

“Nothing ever seems to change here.” You state, staring back out at the window with a blank expression, catching a glimpse of the houses you’d pass on the way to school.

Ava shakes her head, although you tried to mask your emotions, she could tell that you were irritated. Atsumu laughs looking out of the passenger seat window, noticing the park he used to practice volleyball at.

“It really hasn’t been that long since we’ve been here, Y/N.”

“I know, but you’d think things would at least feel different.” You throw your head back in frustration, letting out a loud sigh. Ava laughs, turning her blinker on before she begins to turn into yet another familiar street.

“I don’t know, I like that things are the same here. It feels like home, ya know? Knowing that there will always be a place that feels familiar is kinda comforting.”

Your gaze settles onto Ava with a mischievous grin. You scoot into the middle seat, leaning in between your two friends. Atsumu looks over at you and giggles, looking up at Ava to stare at her with you. Ava takes her eyes off the road for a second to see you two, she rolls her eyes.

“What?” She deadpans.

“That was the cheesiest shit I’ve ever heard you say.” Your laugh fills the car, making Atsumu join in and eliciting a small huff from Ava.

“Shut up! Is it so bad I actually like my hometown?”

“Yes.” Both you and Atsumu state at the same time, further irritating Ava as she swerves slightly making the both of you slide in your seats.

“Crazy how I can just drop you two off on the side of the road and leave.”

“Not like we don’t know the way around here.” Atsumu says, poking at Ava’s cheek.

“Looks like you’re walking to the studio then.” Ava stops the car in the middle of the road, Atsumu looks at her with a puzzled look. She leans over to open his car door, you stare at the two in amusement waiting to see what happens.

“Babe, it’s another 10 miles!” Atsumu exclaims, shutting the door.

“Atsumu, just shut up or walk before these cars come.” You state, looking behind you and see the car lights coming from a small distance.

“Why do I have to shut up when this one started it?”

“Huh?! What did I do?”

Ava rolls her eyes, picking at her nail polish as the two of you bicker over nothing. She puts the car in drive and slams on the breaks causing the two of you to fall over.

“What the hell, Ava?” You ask from the middle of the driver and passenger seat. “I could’ve died?” Ava stifles a laugh before putting the car in park. She looks at Atsumu pouting in his seat, rubbing his forehead and refusing to make eye contact with her. Ava lets out a loud laugh, wiping at the corner of her eyes. You giggle to yourself as you lift yourself up, moving towards the right side of the car to take your seat. You notice Ava placing a kiss on Atsumu’s forehead and the fond touches the two share. A small smile appears on your face seeing them interact, their love radiating off of them like the sun on a hot day. It felt so nice to be around them, but the heat in your heart was beginning to sting. Was it jealousy? No. Anger? No. Longing… Maybe.

“Geez, ya nearly gave me a concussion!”

“Serves you right.”

Ava puts the car in drive, cruising along the dimly lighted streets. Atsumu continues to mutter to himself about how his head hurts.

“I felt my brain rattle.”

“Crazy because there’s nothing in there.”

They continue talking as you look out the window, blocking out their conversation with your own thoughts. Why did I come back here? Surely, I could’ve made up some excuse and made it up to them another time. I don’t think I’m ready to see-

“Anyways, Y/N, do ya really hate it here that much?” Atsumu breaks your train of thought.

“S’not that I hate it.” You mutter, head resting on your hand. “It’s just a weird feeling coming back to a place that doesn’t change. Like everything’s frozen in time… it freaks me out.” Scarlett peaks at you through the rearview mirror, once again, observing your facial expression. Always the mysterious one, aren’t ya? She thought.

“If you ask me, I think it’s nice having a place that doesn’t change. Somewhere you know you can be comfortable and find some sort of peace.” You stare at her for a second, before returning your gaze to the window.

“I guess you’re right.”

“Wow, you’re actually agreeing with me for once?”

“I mean I’m not opposed to the idea of it, I just don’t like getting too comfortable…”

“Fair enough.” Ava sighs, glancing over at Atsumu who nods knowingly at her as he puts his window down. Your window begins to roll down causing you to look at Ava in confusion. “Fresh air will do ya good.”

You rest your arms on the car window, slightly leaning your head onto them as you peek out of the window. The cool autumn breeze tickles your face, as you soak in the darkness of the night. It was a new moon, the only light coming from the sky was the twinkling stars and planets. You look up to the sky and catch a glimpse of a shooting star. It’s been a while since I’ve seen one of those. You thought. I wonder if he still does this.

“Nice being able to see the stars, ain’t it?” Atsumu says, half way out of the car window.

“Yeah…” You smile, a giggle leaving your mouth as he sways in the wind dramatically. “One break from Ava and you’ll fly out!”

“Oi, don’t give her any ideas!”

Ava laughs, turning into the corner store you all used to visit everyday. Atsumu sits back into his seat, handing Ava a wad of cash from his wallet.

“Any requests?”

“Starbursts, make sure ya get the one with all the reds!”

“Alright, Y/N?”

“Oh! And one of those fancy lookin’ waters! Ya know, with the cool designs and shit?” Atsumu interrupts. Ava sends him a teasing glare and he smirks. She turns towards you, your attention fixed on the store that seemed to remain the same. The beige building had the same lettering and advertisements as it did when you were in high school. The railings had a fresh coat of paint on them, but still looked scuffed from all the times you and your friends would sit on them. It was just how you left it. How annoying.

“Oi, Y/N! Getcha’ head out of the clouds, Ava’s askin’ ya something”

“Sorry, what’s up?”

“You want anything?”

“I’m okay, thanks.”

“Twizzlers? Got it.”

Ava exits the car and runs into the shop. Atsumu lifts off his seat slightly, digging into his pockets and pulling out a pack of Seven Stars cigarettes. He plucks one out and lights it, puffing the smoke out of the window. The scent envelops her, giving her a sense of both warmth and pain from the memories it holds.

“Thought you quit.”

“I did. This is for nostalgic reasons.” He smiles, inhaling the smoke and releasing it out of the window in a swift movement.

“Right, you and Rin…” You trail off mid sentence. Atsumu looks up at you through the rearview mirror, just as Ava did, and takes another drag.

“Mhm, this was our go to place for a while.” His eyes flicker from you to the inside of the store. He relaxes back into his seat, looking over at Ava with the biggest grin on his face. She’s looking intensely at two bottles of water and making small talk with the cashier. You smile to yourself, pulling your knees to your chest as you remember the times you all used to meet up here and spend hours talking about nothing.

“When was the last time you two spoke?”

“I can’t remember.”

Atsumu nods, knowing the answer. He flicks the bud of the cigarette out of the window, turning slightly to see you staring at the ground. He flicks your forehead softly, earning a yelp from you. He laughs.

“He’s still here, ya know?”

You look up from the ground, but stay silent for a few moments before he speaks up again.

“He never wanted to leave.”

“Sounds like him.” You let go of your legs, opening the car door and stepping out. You stretch a bit before shutting the door behind you. “You think he’ll be at the show?”

“I don’t think he’d miss getting the chance to see you again.”

You let out an annoyed sigh, walking up to the door and exchanging a couple words with Ava before she exits. The cashier greets you just how he did when you were sixteen and the layout of the store is the same as it was 4 years ago. Nothing’s changed here… so why do I feel so out of place?

“What did you do?” Ava sighs, rummaging through the bag of snacks she just bought.

“Huh? I didn’t do anything!” Atsumu exclaims, hands held up in surrender as if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t have.

“Sure, you didn’t. I’m assuming you mentioned Rintarou.”

“Hm? Rintarou? I don’t even know who that is.”

Ava scoffs, throwing the bag of Starbursts at him. He turns to her in shock, dramatically falling into his seat and gripping at the spot the candy hit him. She giggles, taking a bite out of a twizzler and lifting her leg onto her seat.

“What is she getting anyways?” Atsumu mutters, obnoxiously chewing on his candy.

“Lollipops.” Ava shrugs.

_____________________________________________

The smell of cinnamon and the bright lights of the studio overwhelm your senses in the most pleasant way possible. People you’ve never seen before walk past you, admiring the works of art your best friend, Rei, has displayed. Quiet chatter is heard over the music playing from a record player in the corner, occasionally Atsumu’s loud voice is heard saying “Yeah! Rei’s my best friend, she did all of this, ya know? I was her inspiration for most.” You giggle to yourself, hearing a small “Ow” when Ava elbows him in the rib. You observe the people around you, keeping an eye out for a certain brown haired boy. He’s not here. Your thought is interrupted by Rei’s sweet voice and a small shot glass held in front of your face.

“You look like you need this.” Rei giggles. You laugh lightly, grabbing the glass and clinking it with Rei’s before downing it with her.

“Strawberry?”

“Just like old times.” She smiles. You give her an annoyed look, causing her to roll her eyes and sling her arm over your shoulders. “Shut up, you know it’s our tradition.”

They part for a second then hook their arms together as they walk around the studio, Rei pointing out her favorite pieces and explaining them to you as you admire how ecstatic she is. The two of you stop at the last few pieces of her exhibit, the wall filled with pictures she’s taken over the years.

“I’m so proud of you.” You state, leaning your head onto her shoulder.

“Being vulnerable counts for something, doesn’t it?” She smiles, patting your head lightly.

Rei looks over at the entrance of the studio and waves to a couple people. You lift your head up and let go of her arm, as she smiles at you.

“I’ll be back!” She exclaims, running over and greeting them as she takes them on a tour of her art studio.

You debate whether to roam around the studio or stick to this exhibit, when something catches your eye. You stand closer to the photos, noticing how they date back to 2015. A couple photos in the timeline up to the present catch your eye. Ava, Atsumu, Rei, You, and Suna were in nearly every single one of them. You feel tears prick your eyes at how simple those times were, annoyed at the feeling of nostalgia seeping into your mind.

“Well this fucking sucks.” You whisper to yourself.

“I know, I look terrible in that picture.” A familiar voice states. A tall, lanky man stands beside you. His messy brown hair framing his face perfectly, as he gazes at the photos. You glance at him slightly, realizing who it is and avert your gaze back to the photos. “Seriously, who let me wear that?” He asks, looking over towards you and stifling a laugh at your reaction.

You turn your face to the other side, hoping he hasn’t recognized you. How could he? It’s been what? 3 years? I’ve changed my hair since then, there’s no possible way he’ll know it’s me. Suna lets out a laugh, making your heart ache. You turn to where he was standing and he wasn’t there. You furrow your brows and sigh with relief, but a hint of disappointment. You return your attention to the photos, only to be met with Suna’s chest. You hold your breath and remain still, as he bends down to meet your gaze. His golden eyes peering at you with a mischievous grin on his face, one that you remember all too well.

“Long time no see, angel.”

#suna rintarou #suna fluff #suna x reader #suna x y/n #suna fic #suna rintarou fic #atsumu fluff #haikyuu fic #haikyu x reader #UM HI I HAVENT WRITTEN A FIC SINCE I WAS LIKE 15 AND THEY WERE ABOUT HARRY STYLES #PLS BARE W ME AND BE NICE TO ME #IM A TRIPLE WATER SIGN

[bunny-hoodlum]

Asynchronous With You: Chapter 3

ship: naruhina

rating: teen (this chapter is a little ecchi, but I think it's still T)

tags: Modern Day AU, Foster Siblings, Family, Angst, Unrequited Love, Poor Communication

summary: An awkward journey full of self-denial and missed moments between two foster siblings. Perhaps their love will find the right timing someday.

She didn't know what she was expecting when Kurenai announced that another child would be joining them soon.

He showed up a little smaller than her, with wary blue eyes and uncombed blond hair. He didn't carry anything with him.

The idea of having a forever playmate intrigued her, but after a few weeks it became clear he had no interest in playing, only fighting.

During those times when she managed to get away, she laid down on her bedroom floor curled around a picture book, and thought deeply about magical forests and open meadows. Away from stupid boys and their stupid ways.

And then suddenly he wanted to get rid of Neji. He thought she wanted to be rid of Neji, too. He was going to tattle on Neji really bad and that would be that.

Who taught him that the only way to fix things was to destroy them?

She told him she didn't mind Neji bossing her around. Maybe it's like what she's heard the adults say, that all she needs is structure. Plus, he was the only blood she had. Neji was part of her old normal and she wasn't going to give that up.

She didn't think he would listen. He seemed pretty sure about what he was talking about. But then he didn't tattle after all, and yet the fights seemed even more vigorous.

She found a volume inside herself that she didn't know she had, and it had scared her into her room. Her own ears had boomed. It reminded her of all the yellings she used to receive before Kurenai, and her instincts to hide kicked in.

It wasn't Neji who came after her, but Naruto.

He felt bad about his behavior. But he wanted something in exchange. He couldn't just have nothing after this.

She wasn't sure what 'bugging her' was going to be like, but she's been wanting to get along with him since day one. All because he didn't like Neji, she thought that would never happen.

'Sure,' she told him, and the following afternoon he pinched her arm.

_______________________________

Hinata laid down curled on her bedroom floor just like she used to when she was little.

She shouldn't be here, listening to the sounds coming through the half-inch diameter hole in the wall, his guttural teenage lust spilling over into her sanctum, the exaggerated moans of the other girl stabbing her heart.

He thinks she isn't home right now.

She wants to keep it that way.

Because no matter what he means to her, no matter how much she wants him, it can never happen.

She closes her eyes and pictures herself in the other girl's place. Girl no. 49 she calls her.

She doesn't have the courage to watch, but some twisted part of her wants the torture.

She wants to see a part of Naruto that she'll never have.

_______________________________

After the first girl, some drama had started up at school for Naruto.

She had seen Hinata's shoes in the genkan when she left, but had no idea who they belonged to.

She accused Naruto of sneaking away to invite a different girl to come over.

Now half of the female student body hated him, while the other half wanted to get some for themselves.

Hinata was disappointed to find that he relished in his new reputation as a player, that he would take whatever infamy he got if it gave him what he wanted in this world.

Some timid part of her that remained said, Good for him. After all, he deserved to be happy and enjoy his life.

And yet some shadowy part of her felt she was as good a stranger to him than a sister, seeing as how there could be no room for her as either a sister, a friend or love interest.

She thought to both test him and sabotage him after the fourth girl. Two terribly petty things she thought she would never do.

He knows when she leaves something of hers in his room, it means she wants him to come over.

So she left a pair of panties atop his bed in hopes Girl no. 5 would realize his promiscuity and go home.

It didn't work. Instead it excited Girl no. 5. Her expectations of his skill has risen with the proof that he had a revolving door of hot girls coming in and out of here and they went at it louder and rougher than the first four.

Hinata made sure to disappear before they found out she'd been home. When the coast seemed clear and Hinata feigned nonchalance as she came home, with a weak 'Tadaima' to the only other person home, she did not get the usual greeting.

She crept towards her bedroom, somehow not expecting Naruto to answer her invitation.

He sat at her low table in the middle of her room, the pair she had left behind now sitting atop her comforter.

He couldn't look her in the eyes.

He didn't seem mad, rather dumbfounded.

What a thing to give him when wanting to chat, is probably what was going through his head. Like, maybe she had an ulterior motive she was trying to express to him.

Well, she did, perhaps. This wasn't her ideal way to flirt with him, nor was it how she'd choose to shoot her shot.

She doubted her panties excited him, in the first place.

With a soft sigh, Hinata nodded to herself. She crossed her room without a word, hanging her school bag on the back of her desk chair. Then she approached her bed and picked up her underwear, telling him "Thank you for finding them," before placing them back inside her underwear drawer.

She was rooted to that spot, her hands gripping the trim of her double dresser.

From the corner of her eye, she could see him scratch at his cheek, the way he does when a reply feels too weird to say.

He stood up, and just before reaching the door he mumbled, "Just don't lose them again, okay?"

The door closed behind him, and Hinata's shoulders lowered along the length of her exhale, her stress leaving her like dropping water levels.

Then on a Sunday, when Hinata was invited to a dessert buffet with Sakura and Ino, she found out her favorite linen top with the frilly button trim had shrunk in the dryer.

While uncomfortably snug, she could still button every one but the two across her chest.

Ino loved keyhole cuts, but this would not pass social decency.

She tugged and tugged but still the buttons wouldn't reach their homes. Her eyes burned as a flurry of despair hit her in quick succession.

She was getting older. She was growing up. She was getting bigger. Like, inelegantly bigger. She loved this top. She didn't want to say goodbye to it. She didn't want to say goodbye to a lot of things.

Like choosing where to go for High School.

Something possessed her to walk out of her room and find him. She would play up her little sister role in utter defiance.

"Hinata?" Naruto shot up from the sofa and ran to her side.

"Did you dry my clothes?" More accusation than question, her voice was keened wetly with every consonant. "I can't wear this anymore."

Naruto stood there, sputtering, hands uselessly gesticulating at her ample cleavage.

She's never seen his face so red.

Did he look like this when he was thrusting into his rotation of harem girls?

"U-Uh, maybe it's still okay?" He reached out and gripped the fabric of her shirt, his rough fingers ghosting across her skin. A tingle ran up her spine. His eyes became wild for a second. As if to cover up his embarrassment, he became even more determined to prove he didn't ruin her clothes, but doing so made it worse for the both of them.

The forceful tugging made her breasts bounce in a way he was all too familiar with, but none had ever been as big as hers.

As if catching his dirty thoughts, Naruto released her and ran out of the living room, shouting spastically "I'msorryI'llreplaceit!"

Hinata had placed a hand over her exposed skin, right where he had touched her, and she couldn't fight down a smile, however pained and wistful.

This was probably all she was ever going to get.

She decided to play up the risks today, and forwent a bra, using a velvet cropped jacket to hide her nipples.

She received a lot of compliments that Sunday.

Things like this had happened between her and the object of her adoration and frustration, but nothing ever really changed.

He still brought girls over when he thought she wasn't home.

And she still snuck in to try and be a part of it, to learn more about him, to indulge is some form of masochism she didn't know she had.

It wasn't good for her heart.

And when she and Naruto decided individually that they'd stay with everyone else and go to Konoha Normal High, Hinata decided it was time to get serious about her life.

Her renewed late night phone calls with Neji gave her back her structure.

She started her own club. Called it the Volunteers Association. Basically all they did every Sunday was clean up trash in a pre-chosen location from the crack of dawn until lunch time. Beautifying their hometown was a lesson in gratitude and pride.

She also joined the Public Morals Committee, because it would look good on her resume, not because she’d developed an interest in policing others. It also helped her overcome her fear response to raised voices.

But when she did police others, she learned more and more about other people in a way she never thought she would.

For example, the majority of the porn magazines they confiscated were of G-cup models, with M-cup and C-cup ranking in second and A-cup ranking in last. This told her the preferences of the male student body. How important that information was to her? Well, it kind of helped know which boys to be leery of. She had grown to be a little more realistic about herself: She had curves.

Another example was how many students came to school in a hurry and for what reasons. Most of it was due to oversleeping, which were the result of late-night gaming (like someone else she knows), or excessive studying, or part-time jobs. Few others showed up looking like they had taken a detour to the baseball supply closet to fool around (also like the same someone else she knows).

Running in the halls ensued due to prankish behavior.

Failure to advertise for upcoming club events due to limp commitment or a loss of interest.

When the time came for bag checks, where a teacher would confiscate candy and make-up, that’s where Hinata drew the line. She knew her classmates needed sugar to make it through the day. She advised the pretty girls, the gyaru, even the ones she knew had been in Naruto’s bed, that they could still cheat the system if they were clear lip gloss and neutral colors. That really turned their impression of her around on its head.

To sum it up, everyone was going with the flow, chasing one promise of excitement after another, the future too intangible for them to grasp. Their Springtime of Youth was not over.

The amount of blank career sheets cemented her point.

_______________________________

Hinata collapsed onto a bench as the physical and mental exertion caught up to her.

The school was bustling with a multitude of craft projects as they prepared for their annual School Festival.

As a committee member and Volunteer Associate, she was running herself ragged from classroom to classroom, club to club, helping to ensure that everyone's efforts were going smoothly.

A smooth chill touched her cheek. She opened her eyes. Ino held out a cold water bottle against her heated skin, and Hinata smiled.

"Thank you," Hinata accepted the bottle and held it to her neck. Ino sat down next to her. A series of violent thumps met their ears as an irritated Kiba chased down a gloating Naruto, with Kiba's club materials in his hands. Hinata's voice cracked once she opened her mouth, but Ino's voice rang out in her stead.

"NO RUNNING IN THE HALLS!"

Hinata thanked her again as she sank against the wall and relished in the soothing sensation of her water bottle. She didn't realize she had overworked her voice already, too.

"That one's going nowhere," Ino tsked quietly.

"Who?"

"Naruto-baka. He thinks he can live this way forever. Life'll stop being so funny when he's working behind a convenience store register."

"Cashiers serve an important purpose."

"So you agree he's going to end up a cashier," Ino smirked with a wink.

Hinata opened her mouth to complain, but her will instantly deflated inside of her. Ino laughed at the sequence of emotions that played out across Hinata's face, and the latter simply resumed being exhausted human jello that needed more time to restore her shape.

"A cashier baby daddy with five children, each from a different mom," Ino added.

Hinata tried to blink away the haze steadily overtaking her. "No."

Her chest twisted at the thought.

If that really came to pass, he would take responsibility. He would never leave his own children behind, even if he had to go it alone.

Hinata pressed her free palm against her eyes, her lips trembled even as they tightly pressed into a thin line.

"Hinata?" Came Ino's panicked voice.

"It's just a headache," she lied.

"When was the last time you ate?" Ino barely waited for a response. "I'll go grab some food from the cafeteria and be right back with pain relievers. Just stay right there. And no more shouting. You're done for the day!"

Ino ran off to complete her mission and Hinata couldn't be sure if she was grateful for her absence or even more afraid of it.

Just thinking about Naruto...

She doesn't understand how she still feels about him.

His entire existence hurts her, and she can't name all the ways that he does.

She wants to go back to work.

_______________________________

Hinata never thought her world could turn upside a third time. She never thought her structures could be kicked out from under her.

But then on the opening day of the School Festival, when the school gates are only open for family members, an elementary-aged girl with long, dark brown hair and sharp, lavender eyes came along by herself. A single strand dangled between those discerning eyes as they swept around her surroundings.

Hinata was managing the line outside the maid café, greeting customers in a lilac outfit, when the girl showed up.

Their eyes met.

Hers widened. With surprise. With recognition. With curiosity.

Hinata's eyes were only horrified.

The little girl bounced up to meet her.

Hinata's heart hammered in her ears, it swell to the point of choking. Her vision doubled and smeared. She tried to catch her breath, but nothing, nothing was going in. She tried to breathe faster. They call this air hunger. Her body was cold, prickly.

No. She didn't want to hear it. Didn't want to know.

The little girl eyed her from head to toe, then smirked.

"You really do like mom. But you're a little chubbier than I expected."

AN: Apologies if the third scene's timeline is written in an unclear way. It's supposed to be stuff that happened in sequence prior to the second scene.

Hm! I totally forgot how good it feels to write fanfiction. I literally had a head high the whole time. 😂

I hope you like this chapter! And let me know if I'm doing better at hooks and/or cliffhangers! I haven't looked at any of my activity since the last chapter, so I'm going to respond now if there is anything to respond to, that is.

#naruhina #naruhina fanfiction #modern au #foster sibling au #asynchronous with you fanfiction #chapter 3

[gubler-me-up]

Big, Open Arms (MGG request)

Request: Hi, a MGG request for you.  You're a famous comedian and are cast as the new agent for CM. The cast/crew all love you, even before you come on set as you're hilarious, especially Matthew which EVERYONE knows about. As a huge fan of the show you're nervous, but you get welcomed into the CM family pretty quickly, and adore them all. You become best friends with Matthew, and after a while he asks you out on a date, and you say yes then after the media get involved, Matthew asks you to be his gf.

A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! This was a fully loaded request, so I hope I encompassed every aspect to your liking! Hope you enjoy!!

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content warning: None

Word count: 2.5k

——————–

You were rehearsing your lines before you had to go on set for the day. You had to admit you sucked at memorizing lines, so there were a lot of blooper reals of you stumbling over your words. You hadn’t even been part of the Criminal Minds cast for a whole year yet. Good thing the cast and crew understood how hard it was to memorize masses of technical dialogue.

Your character was named Bianca Johnson, an SSA with a background in technology. She was basically Garcia, but could kick ass instead of petting cute animals. A lot of your lines were heavy technical geek talk, which was hard to say in a scene, let alone the whole episode. Whenever you messed up you’d joked around and said Shemar’s biceps were distracting you from actually getting your lines right.

Your favourite scenes were with Matthew though. He was such a great actor and hilarious as well. When you first introduced yourself to him he told you he thought you were such a hilarious comedian. One of his favourites actually. You told him your greatest joke of all time was landing the role of such a smart character when you only had two functioning brain cells. He let out a hardy laugh before agreeing with you by saying he also had barely functioning brain cells.

Everyone was full of the same excited energy when they met you. It was like having a family gathering every time you were on set. AJ was the sweetest, coolest person you’ve ever met, Shemar was charming, Paget was completely down to earth and Kirsten was such a character. Matthew was the standout cast member for you though. His portrayal of Dr. Spencer Reid was amazing to watch on T.V., but was even more amazing to watch in real life.

He would just spur out lines on lines of facts without messing up once. When he did though it was funny and adorable. You’d try to cover your laugh every time, but he would automatically turn to look at you with a goofy smile. Your laugh would escape immediately and then everyone else would join along.

You looked up from your script as you heard two loud bangs on your door. You looked at the time on your phone and saw it was already 8:55 a.m.

“Y/N, set in five,” you heard the producer yell.

“I’m surprised you’re here early today, Jeff,” you joked.

You heard him laugh. “If Shemar can be early on set anything’s possible, right?”

You gasped. “Shemar’s on set before I am? I have to see this.”

You got up from your chair and rushed towards the door to leave for set. Before you left, you went back to your mirror. You fluffed up your hair and adjusted your breasts. You wanted to make sure you were presentable as possible. For the camera, of course.

As you walked on set you were greeted with a welcoming hug from AJ. She literally gave the most mom-like hugs ever. It was comparable to eating cookies from the cookie jar.

“Happy wrap day,” she said as she let you go.

“I can’t believe we’re wrapping the season already. I feel as if we’ve only been filming for a week,” you said.

“I know, time flies around here. One second you’re in season one and then boom you’re in season 15,” she said.

“If I can look flawlessly good throughout 15 seasons like you I think I can get used to this job.”

She giggled and playfully rolled your eyes. “Are you kidding me? You always look so great. Trust me, a little someone keeps talking about how great you are.”

You looked at her curiously. If she was talking about who you thought she was talking about than you were ecstatic. Shemar, her and some crew members had told you when you first joined that Matthew was a huge fan of yours. Had talked about you quite a few times during the downtime on set.

“More Matthew gossip? I’m in,” you heard Shemar say from behind you.

You turned around and smiled at him. “Well, well, when Jeff said you were early on set I didn’t believe it, but now that I see it with my own eyes I still can’t believe it.”

He chuckled. “Well, baby, here I am in the flesh. If it’s opposite day maybe you’ll have a flawless run with your lines.”

“Good one. Maybe we should trade characters so I can look hot and kick down doors while you talk nerdy to me.”

“You don’t have to kick down doors in your case to look hot, Y/N. I think a certain someone thinks you’re pretty hot as is.”

You gave him a suspicious stare before looking back at AJ. She smiled and looked around the set. You folded your arms as you were waiting for further details to be spilled. They both remained quiet as you stood there waiting. Good thing your attention was soon shifted towards Matthew when you saw him walk on set. You unfolded your arms and softened your face up as you saw how good he looked.

“I guess this is our cue to go, AJ,” Shemar chuckled.

“I agree. See you in the bullpen, Y/N,” AJ said before she left with Shemar.

“Yeah,” you faintly said as you stared at Matthew.

He hadn’t noticed you. He seemed to be looking for someone though as his head continuously darted around the room. When he finally turned your way, his face instantly lit up. He lightly jogged towards you with a big smile on his face. It was as if he was looking for you.

“Hey, Y/N. Happy wrap day,” he said before embracing you in a hug.

You hugged him back. “Happy wrap day, Matt. What adventures are you going to get up to after we wrap?”

“Well, that’s kinda why I was looking for you. I was going to ask you that same exact question.”

“I don’t have anything booked until later next month, so I’m going to be relaxing mostly. Why what’s up?”

“Well, remember when we went to that Arcade Fire concert a few months ago?”

You smiled and nodded. “If you mean the best experience of my life than yes.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad you liked it. Vegas always holds the Life Is Beautiful Music and Art Festival and I was wondering if you were free to go.”

You felt your heart pumping with delight at him inviting you to go to his hometown. The last few months of your friendship were situated strictly in California. You had never really explored Vegas outside of a few shows at hotels and theatres on the strip.

“You wanna take me on a Vegas adventure?” You asked.

“Something like that.”

Before you could say your answer, the set bell rang. Sometimes that stupid bell could be so annoying, especially when you had a moment like this with Matthew. You don’t think there had ever been a more intimate moment between you two.

He smiled. “Think about it.”

As he started to walk off towards the bullpen set, you ran up to him to hug him from behind. He was caught off guard by your hug, but grabbed your hands that clung in front of him. You could say it was the first time you two had held hands.

“I’d love to go.”

“Awesome.”

—————

Going to Vegas with Matthew was such a different experience than anything you had ever done before. Everywhere he took you felt as if it were a new chapter in a life you’ve never lived. You always found Vegas cliche in its gimmicks and exaggerated neon lights. However, Matthew made it seem as if it were a faraway land yet to be discovered.

He showed you to little places outside of the flashy hotels and bright neon lights that filled the strip. You two spent a lot of time at ranches nearby. You told him since the first day you two met how much you loved animals, so going to those ranches was a dream come true.

What you weren’t expecting though was going to the ranch his mother owned. When you two were driving there, you felt your heart beating fast. You had never met his mother before but you knew he was a big mama’s boy. Even with all the nerves running through your body, you felt honoured to be meeting his mother. You didn’t even know whether to consider this whole trip a big first date or what, but it was something you weren’t expecting to happen.

You had a feeling Matthew had a crush on you for a while and the feeling had always been mutual. Guess the both of you had been crushing on each other through a screen for all these years. To be together in that moment was borderline unreal and probably long overdue.

“We’re here,” he said as he pulled up to the ranch.

You looked around the area. It was massive. Just a stretch of land with no buildings in sight. It was beautiful. You looked at Matthew with a huge contagious smile. He couldn’t help smiling back.

“Your mom knows beauty,” you said.

He laughed. “Yeah, I guess she does.”

“I mean if she created you she definitely knows what beauty is.”

He grabbed your hand and squeezed it. It was his fifteenth time holding your hand. Not like you were counting or anything. You blushed as he moved your hand closer to his lips and kissed it twice.

“I’m glad you came, Y/N. I’ve been meaning to ask you on a date for the longest time, but I couldn’t think of the perfect date to take you on,” he confessed.

“Matthew, you literally could have taken me to 7/11 for a shitty cup of coffee and I would have had the time of my life,” you said.

He laughed. “Well, even though 7/11’s cool, I thought you might like a trip to Vegas and concert better.”

“I have to say this is probably one of my favourite first dates ever. I just feel as if it’s missing a little je ne sais quoi.”

“A little je ne sais quoi you say.”

You then saw him let go of your hand and reach for the side of your neck. He brought you in closer as his face moved closer to yours. You hated dramatics, so you rushed in and embraced him with an enormous kiss. You grabbed his face to deepen the kiss. You had never been so excited to kiss anyone in your entire life. The way he kissed you was just different.

You two pulled apart from the kiss before anything went any further. You knew you were satisfied with that kiss but the way Matthew beamed made you believe he was even more satisfied. You covered your face with your hand as you couldn’t stop smiling to yourself.

“I didn’t mean to attack you like that,” you joked.

He chuckled. “No, no, it was great. Maybe we could continue this after we go see my mom.”

You smiled ear-to-ear. “I couldn’t dream of anything better.”

The two of you got out of the car to go greet his mom as she walked out to where he had parked his car. Her smile was just as magnetic as his. You were automatically drawn into her. So much so you found yourself approaching her ready to give her the biggest hug ever. She wasn’t shy to embrace you with big, open arms. It felt as if you were already apart of his family.

————

Back in your trailer to film another season of Criminal Minds and you thought you could get better at memorizing your lines. You didn’t. You swore to yourself you would get better over the summer break, but that plan went out the window as soon as Vegas happened. Matthew had turned what was supposed to be a mundane summer into a long-lasting experience. A long-lasting experience with a lot of making out and wandering hands.

You looked at your watch and saw you had a few minutes to kill before you had to go on set. You tossed your script aside and reached for your phone. The lines could wait a minute or several as you indulged in looking through Twitter.

You scrolled down your timeline, liking and retweeting a few things that caught your eye. One thing caught your eye in particular though. It was from TMZ out of all gossip media showing pictures of you and Matthew holding hands and kissing just a few days ago when you two went to the beach. They must have been hidden well because you knew for a fact no one was around the area you two set up.

Your shock was interrupted when a few knocks were made at your door. You put down your phone and picked up your script to pretend you were still trying to memorize your line. You knew if it was Jeff coming in he’d much rather see you trying to memorize your lines than scrolling through Twitter.

“Come in,” you said.

You saw Matthew come in with a sheepish smile on. You looked at him strange as you had never seen him seem so shy. Then you saw a magazine in his hand. You could only guess what it was. He held up the magazine, so you could see it. Right on the front cover was a picture of you on top of Matthew making out with him on the beach.

You smiled. “At least People Magazine finally put some eye candy on the front page.”

“I didn’t even know they were allowed to publish pictures of soft porn,” he chuckled as he handed you the magazine.

You laughed. “In this day and age anything’s possible.”

“Anything huh?”

He took your hand to take you out of your seat. You gladly got up as you tossed the script and magazine on your vanity. He pulled you in close as his hands moved from your hands to your waist. If this was his way of proposing a quickie in your trailer, you weren’t about to turn him down.

“If anything’s possible, how about we make it official?” He asked.

You would have screamed out of delight, but you were worried he might take it back if you did. You did the next best thing that had come to mind and grabbed his face, so you could kiss him. He wrapped his arms around your waist and embraced the kiss even further. The only reason you two broke apart was because you could hear the director calling everyone to set.

“I guess we should go before this ends up being our last season,” you said as you let go of him.

“I think it might be your last season if you can’t remember those lines,” he joked.

You laughed. “If I can still have you at the end of the day I’d be okay with that. Besides, I think Vegas might have an opening for me.”

—–

MASTERLIST

#spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #dr.spencer reid #mgg #mgg imagine #mgg fanfiction #mgg x reader #mgg x y/n #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler request #matthew gray gubler fluff #Criminal Minds #criminalminds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #matthew gray gubler imagine

[ateezmakemeweep]

line without a hook.

mingi x reader; lovers to strangers au

word count: 13k

angst, fluff (tw: mentions of death)

you could personally never understand one’s desire to run as far away from their hometown as they could.

maybe it’s because you’ve had the privilege of growing up in a beautiful, prosperous place, with cozy winters, amazing festivals and snowfalls on the frozen lake before spring came and melted it away.

maybe it’s because you have fond memories tied back to this picturesque place, shops and restaurants surrounding the lake in a way that almost seemed too magical to really exist.

you’ve met so many different people purely because of that sight, men and women of different cultures and backgrounds always so eager to take in your hometown’s natural beauty.

fortunately for you, the lake ran right through your yard and acted as a place of solace where you could get away from everything in the busy, touristy town.

a place you went when you were feeling happy, sad, angry or when, truthfully, you didn’t know how to feel.

it’s also where you first met your boyfriend, one of the many come and go visitors, who introduced himself as mingi.

except he had walked right through your backyard like he owned the place, a small smile on his handsome face as he took in the sight of the frozen water.

he looked at it with such wonder and fascination, like he’d never seen anything like it before in his life; and you can remember that night, even with how you’re feeling right now, that he looked at you the same way.

it’s the only thing that reminds you, at some point, you two must have really loved each other.

two years ago - december 13th

you were hunched over your desk finishing the last of your final essay, only a page left before you could throw every syllabus away and rejoice at having two months of winter break.

it was a chilly night but you couldn’t help but be outside on the porch, a big warm sweater and fuzzy socks on as you read over your work so far.

you’d gotten used to the sounds of nature, the chirping of birds, pitter patter of animal feet and even the loud, slightly terrifying barks of deer.

but the footsteps crunching on the leaves in your driveway definitely weren’t those of chipmunks or rabbits, your strained neck craning over to see a tall figure walking right past your porch and deep into your backyard.

strangely enough, whether it be the frigid temperatures getting to you or the stress of finishing this paper, you weren’t panicked; the man technically wasn’t even on your property, he was right outside of it along the grass that turned to decking.

so you continued to make revisions and edit your paper silently, your eyes fluttering up ever so often to check on the mysterious, tall figure. his shoulders were broad and his hair was messy, that much you could tell from your spot on the porch.

when five minutes past, then ten, then twenty, and he had still yet to move or realize he was in someone’s yard, you decided to investigate - because one, how long could he really stare at this frozen mass of water and two, your head was pounding from looking at this stupid document.

so without an ounce of fear or hesitation, you wrapped your sweater tighter around your body and made your way down to the man.

your slippers were loose so the last remaining bits of snow were seeping into your socks, a slight grimace on your face when the coldness touched your skin.

the sound of crunching snow caused him to turn around, his lips quirking up into a small smile when you came into view.

it was when you got closer that you saw just how attractive he was, pale skin that glowed, plump lips that were slightly chapped and messy hair that looked even better up close.

he looked different than most locals and tourists around here, many of them pastel wearing men who wouldn’t dare stick an earring in their skin.

but the man in front of you had a completely different vibe, earrings and chains and a gray t-shirt that stretched across his broad chest despite the freezing temperatures tonight.

a few minutes of silence pass, neither him nor you concerned about filling it; it seemed as if he could’ve stared at the lake just as long as you could’ve wondered why the hell he liked it so much.

“aren’t you cold?”

more silence passed and for a second you think maybe he didn’t hear your blurted out question.

but then you discover he did when he looked at you with a smirk, the snow crackling underneath him as he shifts to take in your big sweater and pink slippers.

“no.”

it’s a short and simple response but his voice is somehow incredibly warm, looking at you with a twinge of soft light in his eyes before he opens his mouth again.

“why? are you?”

a confused smile pulls at your lips as you shake your head, looking over his bare (muscular) arms conspicuously.

“no. but i’m not wearing a t-shirt in december.”

he sends a smile your way, his large body turning allowing you to fully take in just how big he is. you feel incredibly small next to him and it should probably make you nervous - a large, stranger unwelcomed in your yard and staring down at you.

but there’s a weird sense of tranquility over both of you in this moment, the moon shining off the frozen lake as his gaze meets yours.

“well that’s a good thing,” he hums, your eyebrow quirking up before he continues. “because i don’t have a jacket to give you.”

a surprised chuckle leaves your mouth that has a smile spreading across your face and he feels his own doing the same at the sight of it.

“what makes you think i’d take a jacket from a stranger?”

his eyebrow raises after a few seconds of pondering the rhetorical question, his large hand suddenly coming between your bodies.

“my name’s mingi. i’m staying a few houses over at my aunt’s for the holidays.”

your lips purse together as you wrack your brain for which neighbor it could possibly be, remembering that the woman who brought you left over lasagna for thanksgiving mentioned her nephew was coming for christmas and new years.

she didn’t mention that her nephew looked like this or that he went onto the property of anyone he pleased.

“i’m y/n,” you say, taking your smaller hand in his cold one before a teasing smiles crosses your face. “and we’re actually standing in my backyard. so thank you for trespassing so politely, mingi.”

his eyes widen as an embarrassed look crosses his face, the small hint of pink on his cheeks just as endearing as it is humorous.

“i- i’m so sorry, oh, my god,” he chuckles out, your cold hands still intertwined. “my aunt said i could take the first road i saw to get to the lake. that there was a better view down here than from her house.”

and you can see in his eyes the exact moment his next sentence came into his mind, like he thought it was gonna be the smoothest and coolest thing he’d ever said.

“and it looks like she was right.”

the loud laugh that bubbles out of you is uncontrollable, mingi’s quickly following as his cheeks turn even more pink.

“sorry, i couldn’t help myself,” he mumbles sheepishly, sounding completely unapologetic as he finally pulls his hand away from yours; you try not to think about how much colder your hand feels now, quickly sticking it in the pocket of your sweater to compensate.

“right,” you quip, a tiny giggle leaving you as you crane your neck to meet his gaze. “but really, you should probably get a jacket if you’re gonna be out here a lot. you don’t wanna get sick and it can get pretty cold here.”

“will do,” he hums, his eyes roaming yours and making your heart jump in your chest; he really is the most attractive person you’ve ever seen.

there’s a few beats of silence as he cranes his neck to look out at the lake, eyes roaming what seems like every piece of frozen ice and snowy tree surrounding it.

“my aunt actually told me people sometimes skate on it.”

“yeah,” you confirm with a nod, taking the time to look at the beauty you take for granted every day. “it’s thick enough this year. sometime we’re not allowed.”

“cool,” he says with a smile, a slight shiver running through him that makes you frown. “so... can i come back here to do that?” he asks, his eyes hopeful and soft as he looks at you. “or should i use the real path?”

your eyebrows pull together at his question, confusion covering your face but only meeting his cocky, playful one.

“are you asking if we can skate together?”

he bites down on his lip so he doesn’t smile larger, his tongue peeking out just before his teeth make contact.

“yeah,” he hums lowly, the deep tone of his voice sending butterflies through your stomach. “i guess i am.”

your lips quirk to the side as you weigh out the pros and cons.

you’re on your own a lot and definitely miss talking to someone.

he’s attractive and funny and seemingly nice enough.

you know his aunt and can easily confirm his story, the chances of him being a murderer who moseyed into town considerably low.

the only con you can think of is falling on your ass in front of him and even that it isn’t such a deal breaker.

so you smile at him and nod your head, a melodic “okay,” leaving your mouth that has him smiling back at you just as sweetly.

present day:

you knew going to this dinner with mingi was gonna end in disaster.

you were both too on edge after your fight this morning, past the point of screaming and yelling for hours that, now, you’ll exchange a few harsh words at each other before falling silent.

you’ve learned that the tense silence after a fight is worse than screaming and yelling.

at least with that, it seems as if there’s still some passion there. there’s words being exchanged and feelings coming to the surface that both people feel motivated enough to express.

but with the silence, you’re both bottling it up.

deeming it useless and letting it brew and brew and brew until one of you goes completely over the edge - and more often than not, that person is him.

the car ride over is no better, not even the radio playing to distract you both from the building tension in the air.

your friends know immediately that something is up, yunho eyeing mingi and san eyeing you; yunho, san, seonghwa, and wooyoung had been your friends since elementary school.

you’d been through a lot with them and have seen each other at all your highs and lows.

throughout your two-year relationship with mingi, him and yunho had grown especially close and it was sweet to see; you knew it was important for mingi to have another friend in a place he didn’t grow up in and you were genuinely happy they created a great friendship.

“hey guys!” wooyoung chirped happily, already chowing down on the chips and salsa in the middle of the table. “how is everyone?”

and like he’s almost oblivious to the tension in the room, mingi only mumbles a grumbled “fine,” before he starts happily babbling again. you try a little harder to put up on a happy front, giving wooyoung a small smile as you talk to him about your last semester of school.

as the dinner goes on, appetizers turning to meals and meals turning to alcohol, mingi downs sangria after sangria before he becomes a lot more chatty.

“oh, shit, there he is,” wooyoung smiles happily, a drunken flush to his face as he pokes his arm playfully. “you were scaring me for a hot second. looking all pissed off and shit.”

“that’s because i was pissed off. still am, if i’m being honest, woo,” mingi says, a conniving hint in his tone as he finishes the last of his drink.

your eyes immediately move to him and you’re quick to narrow them, hoping and praying he doesn’t start round two in this public restaurant right now; but apparently, that’s exactly what he plans on doing.

“what’s with the face, y/n?”

mingi spits your name out like it’s the last thing he wants to say, a quietly snapped “nothing,” leaving your mouth.

san and yunho look to each other immediately, concern on both their faces as they feel the tension start creeping back up.

they knew something was wrong the second you both came in, have known things have been off between you two for months, and it was even more obvious when you immediately took the seats a few spots away from each other.

“nothing?” he asks, his voice deep and gravely due to his anger and the alcohol. “because it sure looks like you wanna say something.”

“i don’t have anything to say to you.”

“you never do, do you, babe?” he asks, his humorless laugh and vindictive tone making your skin prickle.

“did you even miss me?”

your eyes meet his from across the table when he finally speaks, your eyebrow raising as you two stare at each other blankly.

he had left two nights ago after telling you he needed space, not hearing a word from him until he came barreling through the door just a few moments ago at seven a.m.

you’d just gotten up to make yourself coffee, plagued with worry and upset over your fight and his lack of communication.

“maybe if you looked at your phone, you’d know.”

because how could he think you wouldn’t miss him? how could he think you’re actually okay with him leaving after every fight? not hearing from him for a day or two while you stay in this apartment and let your mind go off into every worst case scenario.

a humorless laugh can only leave him as he shakes his head.

“of course you’re putting the blame back on me. i just can’t make you happy, can i, y/n?”

“you staying after a fight would make me happy. but of course, you can’t do that for me, can you?”

he doesn’t say anything and instead just clenches his jaw painfully tight.

you watch it tick dangerously and instead of feeling anger or sadness, you just feel utterly defeated; you don’t know how many times you guys have had this exact conversation.

a fight will happen.

he yells, you cry.

you just want him to see your tears and obvious pain and stop the yelling.

hold you and kiss your hair and mumble that you guys are gonna figure this out and get passed it.

he leaves, you stay silent.

he just wants you to fight for him a little.

call him out on his shit and prove to his insecure self that you still love and care for him, even though he’s a dick. ask him to please stay because he wants to figure this out and get passed it.

but then he comes back and you’re both okay for a bit, just for the cycle to repeat itself over and over.

“is that why you leave, mingi?” you speak again, looking at him curiously as you shake your head. 

“make me sit here and worry about you for days, while you purposely ignore me, just so i can tell you i miss you? is that what you want?”

the words are on the tip of his tongue. that yes, that’s exactly what he wants from you.

but the words are also on the tip of your tongue. that you want his first instinct to be to stay. to stay here and talk things out with you before immediately jumping up to flee.

he wants you to tell him you miss him but you want him to tell you he loves you, that he loves you enough to stay when you guys fight; but right now, neither of you are even sure if that’s true anymore.

“i don’t know about y/n, you guys,” mingi says suddenly at dinner, the drunken slur to his voice evident to everyone. “i love her but sometimes.... i think i actually fucking hate her.”

you feel your heart sink when those words leave his mouth, your face dropping just as the boys call out his name roughly.

“mingi, what the fuck,” san growls from across the table; but the boy is completely unbothered, shrugging his broad shoulders as he looks directly at you.

“how ‘bout you, babe? how do you feel about me?” he asks, leaned back against his chair like he’s completely calm, cool and collected.

“i’m not having this discussion with you right now.”

“you never want to have this discussion,” he mocks, the anger and rage in his eyes only making your blood boil even more. 

“i’m getting tired of it, y/n. i’m getting tired of all this shit.”

his voice is raising and you’re becoming increasingly embarrassed, knowing that the last place for this blowout fight is in front of your friends in a public setting.

“mingi, this really isn’t the place to-”

“shut up, yunho, we’re gonna finally-”

but you’re not intending on doing anything, already feeling humiliated and belittled as you get up from your seat and walk toward the door.

you leave your bag and jacket so the boys know you’re not leaving, hoping and praying that your drunk asshole of a boyfriend follows you outside; and sure enough, two minutes later, you smell his familiar cologne when the door opens.

neither of you say anything for the first few seconds, him leaned against the wall and you facing him with your hands on your hips.

“what’s your problem?”

it’s the first thing you think to ask, looking at him with such concern and defeat in your eyes. 

you hope he can see it but you’re sure he can’t, far too absorbed in whatever he’s been going through for the past few months to notice.

“i don’t have a problem.”

“you obviously do,” you snap, your voice raising as you take a step closer to him.

“you just embarrassed me in front of everyone and you’re acting like a fucking child. we could’ve had this conversation at the house instead of not speaking for days.”

“why? so you could just turn shit around on me or ignore what i’m saying?” he snaps back, raising an eyebrow as he looks down at you. “maybe we need an outside source to listen.”

“not our friends, mingi, and not at a public dinner when you’re getting drunk.”

“you always have an answer for everything, don’t you?” he snaps, his jaw clenching and eyes flaring as he continues to peer down at you.

“and it’s always on me. when we tried to talk this morning, you blew me off, too, y/n. it’s like you don’t ever wanna have this discussion.”

“because i don’t know what you want me to say, mingi. how many times do i have to repeat myself and tell you i don’t know what you want from me?”

“have you ever thought that maybe that’s the fucking problem, y/n? that after all of this, you still don’t know what i want from you? are you fucking stupid?”

“are you fucking stupid?” you yell back, the suppressed anger and rage you knew was brewing boiling over right here and now.

“you want me to tell you that i miss you when you leave every other week, mingi? why would i tell someone that who could give a shit? i could tell you i miss you or that i’ll miss you and you’ll still fucking leave me.”

“how do you know?” he snaps, “you’ve never tried!”

“i’ve never tried?” you yelp, tears of frustration burning your eyes as you look at him.

“what’s me texting you when you leave like a little bitch every single time? or me obviously worrying when you pull that stupid shit over and over? i’ve been trying mingi and you don’t care! you leave me crying alone every single time!”

he meets your gaze with fire in his eyes and you can only stare back with tears in yours, waiting for him to scream something before he decides to kick over the metal garbage can a few feet away from you.

you watch as it clatters against the side walk, a loud, deep “fuck!” leaving him as you watch him blankly. his chest is heaving and you can tell he doesn’t know what to do with himself right now but you also don’t know anymore.

because you’re shaking inside and out and feel like you wanna throw up, knowing that right now you both look like the worst type of couple; but it’s nothing compared to how you feel, how even though you don’t want to, you can’t stop yourself from acting out on these negative feelings.

“and if i never try, mingi, then just leave again,” you say, tears blurring your vision and a lump growing in your throat. “you can stay and come home with me tonight. or you can leave. at this point, i’m too tired to care.”

you weren’t surprised to go home alone that night.

watch as seonghwa and yunho helped your boyfriend to their car and promised that he’d be back in a few days; you were only able to sleep soundly that night because you knew he was safe with them.

but it didn’t stop you from crying yourself to sleep that night, the night after that and the night after that for the next week; the same would’ve probably happened the next night, too, at least for a little bit, had you not heard your front door open just after midnight.

you were getting in one last episode of your drama when mingi returned home, craning your neck back to see him lazily kicking off his shoes at the front door.

his head looked up to meet your gaze, the glow of the tv hitting him just enough to tell you he looked like shit.

he had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was tousled messily, like he hadn’t washed it since you last saw him. his face was sunken and pale as if he’d been away in the wild for months opposed to his friend’s house for just a little over a week.

but when he’s away from you, this is what happens each and every time - he can’t sleep or eat or function properly.

he’s only plagued with the thought of you, memories running through his mind or constantly wondering what you’re doing. if you’re safe and feeling okay or if something bad is gonna happen to you because he’s not there.

the couch dips next to you before you feel his skin graze yours, a quietly mumbled “hey,” like he just came in from work casually spoken through the air.

you crane your neck up at him to look in his sunken eyes, an uncontrollable frown on your face as you swipe your finger across his purple skin.

it’s the softest touch he’s received in a week and he’s missed it more than he cares to admit. shutting his eyes and smiling slightly when he hears you mumble “hi” back.

you bask in each other’s comfort and warmth for the rest of the episode in silence, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm wound tightly around you until the tv screen falls black.

you two walk into bed and he pulls you down with him, your head falling to his chest and his hands in your hair. you moan against him sleepily and it’s a sound he’s missed so dearly, tightening his hold on you as he feels his body immediately relax.

you’re both completely comfortable and at ease, days of worrying finally calmed as you’re beside one another again.

but even with this comfort, even with the familiar feel of each other’s skin and warmth soothing both of you, you know it won’t be enough.

because you still don’t say you missed him and he still doesn’t tell you he loves you.

a year and 11 months ago - january 10th

you weren’t sure if it was possible to fall in love in less than a month but it really felt as if you and mingi did.

from the moment you saw him two days after your initial meeting, skating together and braving the frozen lake together, your connection was immediate.

you’d spent everyday with each other, frolicking through the town in the afternoon before going back to your house at night.

you usually spent it cuddled up on the couch or making food in your kitchen, his arms wrapping around your waist before tossing you up on the counter playfully.

“you didn’t strike me as a chef,” you tell him, watching him stir a pot of noodles with a content look on his face.

“well, i didn’t strike you as a rapper either,” he says, a smirk on his face as a giggle leaves your mouth.

you learned that mingi was an aspiring rapper, him and his friend hongjoong trying to get their foot in the door for the past year. you listened to a few of their songs and even got a live performance from him, your eyes wide and cheeks flushed as you watched him.

in a fit of absolute astonishment, because you didn’t think mingi could get any more attractive, you blurted out that he didn’t seem like a rapper. that his personality was too “cute and charming” despite the deep growl to his raps and voice.

“i told you just personality wise,” you whine with a pout, reaching your hand out to squeeze his arm reassuringly. “but appearance wise, absolutely. you’re very tough. very cool looking. i’m scared of you.”

“you’re making this a lot worse for yourself, baby,” he hums lowly, another giggle leaving your mouth as you bite down on your lip.

“did your friend hear back from that producer yet?” you ask him curiously, your legs criss-crossed as you sit on the counter and peer up at him.

he looks over to see you staring at him all wide-eyed and interested, a soft, happy glint in your gaze that makes his heart pull in his chest.

he hasn’t even known you for a month but he’s never been this happy before.

he’s never had anyone be there for him the way you’ve been, dedicating their time to him and being so actively interested and supportive of his decisions; it also doesn’t help that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever met, both inside and out, that made him extend his trip a week longer.

he couldn’t imagine saying goodbye to you yet and he’s still not sure if he can; he’s grown incredibly attached to you and it’s something he’s never felt before.

something all consuming and magical that’s making him incredibly vulnerable.

“not yet,” he mumbles, his eyes roaming your face.

your eyebrows pull together when you notice the way he’s looking at you, soft and sweet with a fondness that makes your heart flutter dangerously.

“why are you looking at me like that?”

a smile crosses his face as he lowers the heat on the stove, caging your body in and cocking his head to the side. he bites down on his lip when he sees your eyes widen, a large hand coming up to push pieces of hair out of your face.

“because i’m happy i met you.”

a small, touched smile pulls at your lips as you peer up at him, raising your own hand to smooth out the chain around his neck.

your fingers brush against his warm skin and it’s like there’s electricity coursing through both of you, your bodies close and hot breath wafting together.

“i’m happy i met you too, mingi.”

his heart soars at the way you say his name, eyes falling to your lips as he presses himself closer to you. you push yourself against the cabinets, swallowing the lump in your throat when you follow his gaze.

your tongue peeks out to lick over them unconsciously, your own eyes falling to his lips. you feel your stomach swoop dangerously, wanting so badly to feel them on yours - they’re one of the first things you noticed about him.

“y/n?”

“hm?” you hum, your eyes lingering on his mouth before hazily meeting his eyes; and there you see it, the soft intensity you’ve yet to grow used to.

you’ve seen this look from him more times than you can remember despite the short time you’ve known each other.

on the lake when you two were skating, grasping each other’s hands and giggling as you tried to keep yourselves from falling back.

in town when your hands bumped and you’d stop dead in your tracks to look at each other, completely unaware of the people around you giving each other knowing looks.

on the couch when you’d allow your head to rest on his shoulder, cuddling closer to him because the weather is really cold for january and you need body heat.

but it’s never been as strong as it now.

your heart’s never been beating this fast and you haven’t been able to feel his own pounding against his chest. probably because he was nervous to ask-

“can i kiss you?”

neither of you can remember what happened after he uttered those words.

just that one minute, he said it and the next, your mouths were connected. parting on one another’s as he completely caged your body with his.

your arms wound around his neck and he hummed contently against your mouth, slipping his tongue in when you started playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

he had half the mind to turn off the stove before carrying you to the couch, your legs wound tightly around his waist as every hint of desire and want overtook you.

he plopped himself down as you situated yourself on his lap, lips never disconnecting. you moaned against him when you felt his body underneath yours, tongues colliding and mouths pulled into smiles.

his hands gripped onto your hips gently, pulling your body closer to his as your kisses grew hungrier and more intense.

you finally pulled apart for air with heaving chests and red, puffy lips, your eyes meeting and every hint of vulnerability and longing in them.

“i’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he finally says softly, almost whispering it in fear that someone else would hear.

but this house is empty. it always is and it has been for quite some time.

until you met him and he completely changed your life.

now there were two pairs of shoes at the door and two empty cups in the sink. there was someone to talk to and someone to be in the silence with.

because you’ve learned over this past month that even a silence with someone else is way better than the silence of being alone.

“me... me too,” you admit shyly, a warm blush creeping up on your face. “i’m... really, really happy you’re here, mingi.”

his eyes widen when he sees tears well up in your eyes, his mouth pulled into a frown as he brings his hands to your face.

but you only shake your head before he can comment on it, placing your hand atop his before connecting your lips again.

he meets the kiss with the fervor you need, everything about it soft and sweet and passionate. like you guys know time is running out and you need to fit it all in.

“that producer got back to me and wants to meet in person so you’ll be home next week, yeah?” hongjoong asked mingi over the phone, the boy laid out on his bed a few days later.

he can only keep replaying the memory of you in his mind, the tone of your voice and the teary look in your eye when you told him how happy you were that he’s been here.

there was a certain type of sadness behind you that he hasn’t been able to shake, making it incredibly hard for him to pick a day to just pack up his car and go.

“i... uh. i don’t know, yet.”

“what?” hongjoong asked.

him and mingi had been waiting to meet producers for months, getting either put on a list or straight up rejected. and now when they have a chance, “you don’t know yet?”

mingi licks over his lips as he hears the disbelief in his friend’s voice, knowing that hongjoong won’t be able to believe this. they’ve been waiting for this moment ever since they were in high school and had the dream of rapping as a duo.

he was only supposed to be here for a few days and now it was almost a month. what could possibly be keeping him there? what could possibly have made mingi-

“what could you possibly not know, mingi? we’ve been waiting for this moment for years. you even extended your trip for a bullshit reason thinking i’d really buy it.”

“okay but my aunt really did need help around the house...” he mumbles because yes, she needed help around the house as she redid her bathroom but she was quick to hire professionals so, technically not a lie.

“so what, what’s your excuse this time? did you meet some chick?”

there’s a silence that stretches over the phone for what feels like hours, mingi attempting to find any words before hongjoong lets out a loud groan.

“a girl? mingi, are you fucking kidding me?”

“i really like her, hongjoong,” mingi tells his friend, a sweet genuineness and innocence in his deep tone. “i really, really like her and i... i don’t think i can leave her yet.”

he reluctantly opens up to hongjoong about you, telling him that you’re in school and live alone in this quiet little lake town. that you and him have been spending every second together and he’s never felt this way about anyone before.

“i’m happy for you, man, i really am,” hongjoong says, never having heard his friend talk like this before. “but i mean... is she worth changing your plans? what the hell is there for you?”

he wants to say that you. you’re there.

the girl he’s known for less than a month but has gotten him so tight around her finger - and once he leaves, will still be here.

except she’ll be within the walls of her house all alone again, in a town based off people coming and going where she’s never seemed to have a stable relationship with anyone.

where she now knows what it’s like to spend every day with someone and look forward to their company every morning and night. spend hours talking until the sun rises and sleep until it’s dark out.

“i wouldn’t be changing my plans that much. i still have our music, hongjoong. we can still do shit even if i live here.”

“live there?!? hongjoong blurts out, “you’ve been there for a less than a month, dude, that’s fucking crazy. you’ve barely know her and you’re gonna move there?”

“i can’t leave her.”

he didn’t think at the time that it was crazy. he didn’t think he’d ever come to regret that decision because, at the time, he really couldn’t imagine leaving you.

he couldn’t picture himself hugging you goodbye and telling you that you’d keep in touch via texting and facetime.

he couldn’t picture going back home with a genuine smile on his face when it felt as if he left behind something, someone, would could make him the happiest he’s ever felt.

he couldn’t picture that he’d ever come to resent you because when he told you he was gonna consider staying in town longer, a bit more permanently, the smile that lit up your face was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“really?” you smile, jumping up from your spot on the couch and running over to him.

you’re so smiley and happy and bouncy until you’re not, your face dropping ever so slightly when you look over his face.

“but wait... what about the producer? did he ever answer?”

“he did. hongjoong’s meeting with him tomorrow.”

your eyes widen at the news but he’s quick to cut you off, bend down and press a long, lingering kiss to your lips before scooping you up into his arms.

“but i told him there was something better for me here.”

present day:

he wasn’t sure when the resentment started.

he just knew that, one minute he loved you, and the next, he started to question everything.

it could’ve been from seeing hongjoong’s success, album after album and talk of him all over social media right in his face every day.

it could’ve been his lack of success, pursuing a music degree via online school while still keeping up with his previously established career as a rapper; it was enough to get the bills paid and keep his name lingering around but that’s all it was now.

it could’ve been that all of his passion was gone and he blamed you for that; because if it weren’t for you, he’d be with hongjoong now. he’d be making money and feeling inspired and at the peak of his creativity and motivation.

but he loves you, right? he loves you more than he’s loved anyone in the world and he made the right decision.

“sometimes i question if i made the right decision.”

it was a relativity quiet night for you and mingi, the past few days calm and uneventful, so you knew a fight was bound to happen soon.

and with that statement, it seemed as if the night was quickly headed in that direction.

“what do you mean?” you ask, looking up from your textbook.

he was sat on the love seat opposite you, computer in his lap and a beer on the side table as he watched you. he’d been wordlessly watching you all night and you hadn’t been sure what to make of it.

now, you can see, he might’ve been watching you with disdain.

“i mean i sometimes wonder if i made the right decision in staying here. just... so quickly not accepting that producer’s offer with hongjoong’s.”

his words hurt you more than you let on, your stomach sinking and knotting as you let his words sink in.

you had asked him for weeks after he made that decision if he was sure.

if something he worked so hard on and something he looked forward to for so long was something was worth giving up.

and anytime you asked, he’d say the same thing.

“you’re worth it.”

you wonder now if he said it so many times to qualm your ever present worries or to convince himself. tell himself over and over again that, yes this girl is worth staying here and no, i won’t come to resent her.

it’s something you worried about in the beginning but faded with time.

because your love grew stronger and you both became more secure. your relationship was the closest thing to perfect you’d ever experienced.

but not now.

now it’s a fucking disaster.  

“where did that even come from?”

you can hear to your own ears how shaky and unsure your voice sounds. it’s filling you with as much shame as it does embarrassment, knowing that you can’t even talk to your own boyfriend openly and honestly.

without feeling upset, like you know you have to walk on eggshells or can’t express how much he’s been hurting you.

“i don’t know, i’ve just been thinking,” he hums, taking a swig of his beer as he adjusts himself on the couch.

you don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything, only humming lowly as you nod your head.

you lick over your lips as you look back down uncomfortably, blankly staring at the words of your textbook. your brain can’t absorb any of the terms or phrases on the page, the sinking, awful feeling in your stomach taking over.

you can’t even remember how long you’ve felt like this.

when butterflies turned to this gut wrenching, awful feeling.

like the feeling before a plane takes off or you have a presentation to do or when the one person you’ve loved in this world has decided they don’t want you anymore.

“i stayed for you.”

the words you feared hearing pierce the air and you hold back a shaky breath, biting the inside of your cheek so harshly you’re hit with the metallic taste blood.

you look up and see his eyes narrowed in on you, tears burning the back of yours as you beg them not to fall.

because you can’t keep crying in front of him just for him to ignore you. to just watch you lose it with a blank look in his eyes, instead of holding you or attempting to soothe you.

“i couldn’t leave you alone in your house,” he begins, like the words he’s rationalizing in his head are coming out of his mouth uncontrollably.

“i wasn’t ready to leave you yet and i didn’t even think twice about how i would feel in the future. because i was so fucking consumed by you, y/n.”

there’s an obvious and palpable pain in his voice and it makes your gut wrench even more; you hate that he’s in pain but you’re in pain, too. you were in pain before him and now you’re in pain because of him.

“i’m still consumed by you but i feel...angry now. i feel so fucking angry, y/n, and i don’t know why. i don’t know if i’m mad at you or myself but i know i stayed for you. if i never met you, i never would’ve stayed here and now i feel like i’m stuck.”

“but i never asked you to stay, mingi,” you whimper out, the tears quickly coming to the surface.

they’re a mix of sadness and frustration, because it hurts so much hearing this, the obvious regret in his words, but it also makes you mad - that was his choice and his choice alone.

and it’s like he knows that too. because he doesn’t say anything in response, just continues to stare at you with a look in his eye that breaks your heart.

“i asked you so many times if you were okay with doing that,” you begin after moments of silence, your teary, wet gaze meeting his. “i asked you again and again because i knew you’d come to regret it.”

“i’m not saying i regret it, i’m just saying i-”

“you’re saying you stayed here for me like it’s my fault,” you say, shaking your head as tears leak from your eyes and down your cheek. “like i asked you to and like meeting me was your downfall. but i never told you to and i would’ve never ever expected you to.”

“what, so i was just supposed to leave you alone?” mingi growls lowly, emotion behind his tone that’s almost masked by the brashness.

he can’t help but feel all of this coming up, all of these feelings he’s been going through these past months and making him a completely different person.

“why would i have left you when i knew i loved you?”

neither of you focused on loved being past tense, probably because it’s a fact both of you know by now.

“i didn’t want anything else but you in that moment.”

“do you want a prize, mingi?” you snap, every defensive and defeated emotion coursing through your veins.

“you could’ve left me alone. you could’ve just left the way you wished you did so fucking badly. you would’ve saved yourself all of this obvious regret.”

“you think i regret staying with you?” he asks, his voice low and deep as he rises from the chair.

his frame is tall and broad and looming as he walks closer to you, standing over your chair as you sit there and stare up at him. his eyes roam your face and he follows the few tears rolling down your cheeks, his hands stiffly hanging at his sides.

he used to hate seeing you cry.

it used to make him wanna destroy whatever was hurting you. he used to kiss your tears away and wouldn’t let you leave his arms until you were smiling and laughing again.

“well, what do you call this?” you whimper quietly, sniffling and stuffy and feeling small tears stream down your face.

“you basically said if it weren’t for me, you’d be happier with your life. and i... i was so happy when you decided to stay, mingi, i’m not gonna lie to you. i was so happy because i knew we would love each other so much,” you whimper out, the knot in your throat making it difficult to speak.

“but i also knew that one day, you would probably regret it and resent me. it’s why i asked you over and over and over again. because i was so scared this was gonna happen.”

his mouth grows dry as he licks over his lips, a burning behind his eyes as he hears your voice break. he’s quick to shake his head and blink away the tears, though, because he knows if he starts crying, he’s never gonna stop.

“i thought you would leave with me eventually,” he’s finally able to get out, his throat clogged and voice gruff as he voices his innermost thoughts and wishes.

you compromised for him once, why wouldn’t you do it again?

“i thought if you actually loved me the way you claimed to, you’d be able to go.”

“well, i was always honest with you about that too,” you murmur, feeling utterly defeated and guilty as you meet mingi’s glossy eyes. “you know i never intend on leaving.”

a year and 5 months ago - june 19th

he learned about your parents accident on the 4th year anniversary of their death.

he had noticed that week you were especially gloomy, a sad look in your eye and the fake smile on your face making him cling to you just a bit more than usual.

and apparently, you had noticed too.

“mingi, are you okay?”

the words were muffled against his shirt, your face pressed against his chest as the two of you lay on the couch. his hand had been running up and down your back gently all night, like he’d been trying to calm you without any words.

like he knew there was something wrong, even though you hadn’t said a word.

his eyebrows pull together in confusion, placing his fingers under your chin. he lifts your face as his eyes search yours, that sad look behind them masked by a soft curiosity.

you’re trying to hide your pain because you think he’s hurting and that alone only makes him even more sad.

“of course i am, baby. but are you okay?”

you can’t find it in you to say yes so you only nod shyly, a small smile gracing your face as you look at him.

his eyes are full of such warmth and love that it makes tears prick behind your eyes, dropping your gaze quickly as you bury your face back in his chest.

the movement causes him to swallow nervously, adams apple bobbing as he presses his lips to the top of your head.

he knows something’s wrong. he knows something’s very wrong but he doesn’t know what happened or what’s brought this on.

“you can tell me anything,” he mumbles against your hair, his arms wrapped tightly around your body. “you know that, right?”

because he also noticed that you started seeming off when he mentioned moving in together, looking at apartments in town for himself before getting the idea to live with you.

you guys are already together all the time, it only made sense for you two to live together as well.

but he could tell immediately the idea unsettled you, you clutching desperately on to him as you muttered that you’d think about it.

at first, he would’ve assumed you didn’t wanna go that far with him. that it was too serious a commitment and you were completely uncomfortable with that.

but it was the way you were clinging to him, burying your face in his chest like you were begging him not to leave you that made him realize something deeper was going.

it’s why he dropped it at first. looked for apartments on his own with the idea that, best case scenario, you’d move in with him too.

could that be what’s wrong right now? you dealing with moving in with him and fears coming from that? or something else entirely?

he just knows that when he starts to hear you cry quietly into his chest, he needs to know what’s been wrong because he hates seeing you like this.

“hey, hey, hey,” his deep voice mumbles, large hands pulling you from his chest and wiping at your face. “what happened, baby? what’s wrong?”

and since you started crying about this, remembering the day and the circumstances around it so well, you won’t be able to stop. you can only continue to cry into him, tiny sobs wracking your body as you clutched onto him tightly.

“i... i can’t.”

you couldn’t talk, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t tell him, he wasn’t sure.

that’s why he shook his head and pulled you back into his chest, the warm safe place you’ve come to know so well and usually calmed you whenever you needed.

“i don’t know what’s wrong but i promise you’ll be okay,” you hear him mumble against your head, his hand running up and down your back gently. “i’ll try to help you in any way i can, baby, but i’m gonna need to know what’s wrong.”

but he can’t help you bring back your dead parents.

he can’t help you time travel the way you so desperately wish you could to tell yourself not to go on that senior trip.

that if you didn’t go, your parents never would’ve driven you to the airport and they never would’ve gotten in the car accident that took their life on the way back.

you’d spent a week in a foreign country while they spent a week in the hospital, your aunt and grandparents dealing with the repercussions before you came back and said your goodbyes in a dingy, hospital room.

mingi doesn’t know how long you both sat there in silence, your cries muffled against his chest and his arms wound tightly around you.

he loosened his hold immediately when he felt you try to pull away, watching as you stared at him, wiped your eyes and told him everything.

“my parents died four years ago, today.”

he watches with soft, sympathetic eyes and a breaking heart as you tell him about your guilt.

how if you just decided to stay home after weeks of begging them to go, they’d still be here.

“they didn’t have the money but i begged them for weeks, mingi,” you tell him, tears in your eyes and voice thick with emotion. 

“i wanted to go so badly because all my friends were going and i was too selfish to see they really couldn’t afford it.”

he can tell you’re not done talking so he only presses his lips together and grasps your hand tightly. squeezes it reassuringly as his thumb gently rubs back and forth against your skin.

“they both worked overtime for two weeks straight and gave me the money the last day it was due. and i barely thanked them,” you remember, the scene you’ve replayed in your mind hundreds of times flashing yet again.

you jumped up from the couch and snatched the money from their hands, throwing your arms around them in a quick hug before screaming your thanks and running up to your room to tell your friends.

“a drunk diver hit them on their way home from the airport and the doctors couldn’t believe they both didn’t die on impact. a-and no one in my family could even call me so i said my goodbyes when i got home, in the hospital.”

you look to mingi with tears streaming down your cheeks and you see wetness in his own eyes, his hand grasping onto yours tight.

“i couldn’t even talk to them one last time. or hear their voices. i don’t even know if they heard me.”

your voice breaks off after that, not being able to handle recounting this after years of staying silent about it; he’s the first person you’ve talked to about this besides the counselor you saw a few months after their death.

he pulls you in his lap and wraps his arms tightly around you, rocking you back and forth as he presses his lips to your head.

your eyes are closed tight as you focus on his breathing and soft murmurs. his deep, full voice muttering sweet nothings and quiet reassurances.

that your parents did hear you and they loved you till the end.

that it was no one’s fault but the driver who decided to get in a car after getting drunk.

that you shouldn’t put any blame on yourself, because your parents would want you to be happy and thriving.

“i know but it’s just hard,” you tell him, you teary face pulling away from his wet chest.

you look around the living room full of books and wooden furniture, a family portrait hung above a cluttered-filled desk; it was taken when you were ten and you remember hating that day because you had to wear an uncomfortable dress and tights.

“i don’t know how i’m ever gonna leave this place,” you voice aloud to him, one of the many concerns that muddled your mind when you started deciding on college or jobs or moving in with your perfect boyfriend of almost a year.

“it’s the last thing i have of them. i don’t... i don’t know if i’d be ever to leave this place, mingi.”

not after what happened last time.

not wanting to leave the house you grew up in to strangers who would create more happy memories and replace the ones you made with your own parents.

his face contorts into one of sympathy and pain, his heart breaking as the obvious guilt and dread is in your eyes.

he’d always seen a bit of torment behind them but you were always able to smile.

laugh with him and tease him and push whatever demons he knew you had aside; but he started seeing it again when he mentioned moving in, fear and anxiety and discomfort that he hated to even see behind your eyes.

“i don’t know how that will effect us, it’s something i’ve thought about a lot recently,” you confess quietly, playing with the edge of the blanket nervously. “especially when you mentioned us moving in together. i... i want to, so bad, because i love you and i think it’d be fun. but... i can’t leave.”

your tears start up again and a frown crosses mingi’s face, his body hovering over yours as he takes your face in his big hands.

he wipes at the tears threatening to slide down your cheeks before placing his lips on your head, breathing slowly and calmly against you as his warm breath wafts over you.

“baby, i understand completely, i really do,” he says, everything making sense now but... “but i don’t think your parents would want you to... limit your life like this.”

because you obviously had an interest in seeing the world. you obviously wanted to see different places and cultures and sights in the world that even your precious little town doesn’t hold.

but he can see tonight isn’t the night you’re gonna see that, if the way you shake your head and bury yourself back in his chest doesn’t show that.

and because he loved you more than anything else in the world, he understood it. held you and kissed you and made sure you knew he’d be by your side in whatever way you needed.

it was with his patience and love and unconditional support that you were able to live with him. keep your parents house as a sense of security but slowly move yourself out of it.

leaving a toothbrush at the apartment, a few sets of clothes, some shampoos and soaps until one night, you were waking up and falling asleep with him every morning and night.

present day:

the fight that ended you and mingi was over a trip to disney.

something meant to be so childish and fun and innocent morphing into a blowout, gut-wrenching fight that left the two of distraught.

hit both of you with the realization that whatever you once had had fizzled out and turned so horribly toxic, you were both losing yourselves.

it had started with yunho, san and wooyoung planning the trip, mingi over their house one day after the tension in the apartment got too much. he had scoffed when san mentioned it at first, wondering what business they had as college going twenty-somethings booking a trip to disney.

“it’ll be sweet!” san said, “we could go to the parks for a few days, everyone loves roller coasters! and then we can drive down to the beach, go surfing and go to bars and shit. it’d be so much fun, guys.”

and the more all of them thought about it, the more excited they got. looking at flights and car rentals and getting all their swim suits in order - that was until mingi came back home a day later and informed you of these plans.

“me and the guys were talking about booking a trip to disney,” was the first thing he said to you. not a hello or how are you or sorry for leaving and making you worry for a week.

“oh?” you hummed quietly, looking up from your spot at the kitchen sink; you’d made breakfast for two just in case he came home early but it was another serving of eggs and bacon in the trash.

“yeah, so is that something you’d wanna do?”

there’s something off about his tone that you immediately pick up on. snippy and on edge and defensive, like he’s already fully prepared to break out into a fight.

because he already knows you won’t do it. you won’t leave the 70 mile radius you’ve trapped yourself nor will you even try to go out of your comfort zone for him and you or anyone else.

and quite frankly, he’s grown really fucking sick of it. call him selfish or call him someone looking out for you, someone who knows this type of living isn’t normal, he can’t deal with it anymore.

“i... well i mean...how would we get there? and when?”

“we were looking at flights three weeks from now,” he says, carefully observing your face with slightly cold eyes. carefully waiting for the next hint of a breakdown he’s not gonna properly respond to.

you bite the inside of your cheek as panic starts to stir in your chest.

you haven’t been anywhere since the accident. you’ve gotten yourself so used to this environment that going anywhere else seems terrifying.

but you’ve seen how bad things will happen when you try to venture out. you left to do the same and it cost your parents your life - who’s to say you wouldn’t get your karma soon?

leave mingi without a girlfriend he doesn’t even care about anymore or your grandparents without a granddaughter you can’t help but feel they blame for their child’s death.

tears are quick to prick your eyes as you try to push down all of these feelings, looking down at the floor in a move mingi already knows is dismissive.

you hear him scoff and it sends a flurry of emotions through you, not even needing to lift your head to know he’s shaking his head.

“figures,” he hums lowly, making extra noise as he puts down his bag or plops down on the dining room chair. “i don’t know why i bothered asking.”

“mingi...” you begin breathlessly, guilt and shame and sorrow filling you.

“no, y/n.”

his voice is firm and hard and makes you meet his gaze, the look he’s throwing you icy and completely empty. he’s done and you’re done and there’s basically a ticking time bomb between you two.

“you didn’t even let me give you an answer.”

“because i know what it’s gonna be!” he roars, feeling stupid for getting excited when he knew damn well you wouldn’t be able to leave. “i know you’re gonna make up some bullshit excuse about school or work or money and you’re gonna say no.”

you can’t say anything because you know he’s right. but what he doesn’t know is that you’re trying. you try every day and every week and every month to push yourself out of your comfort zone and it just doesn’t work.

you’ve tried going away with him and you’ve tried expanding your horizons - you’e even moved out of your parents house to live with him. but it’s hard when you’re constantly reminded by the fact that your decisions ended a life.

while it was technically the drunk driver’s fault, your survivors guilt heavily outweighs that. intrusive thought after intrusive thought until you start to question why you’re even still here, too.

“i’m trying, mingi,” you say, your voice shaky and defeated. “i’m trying but you don’t even see that.”

“how are you trying?” he asks, watching your dejected form a few feet away from him. “you haven’t done anything different since you moved in with me. we’ve been living the same life for the past two years, y/n.”

but you just remember how patient he was when you first tried moving in. how he was so patient and kind and gentle and was everything you needed him to be.

but he can just remember how much he loved you. how patient and understanding he was, not fully grasping the severity of what happened to you and how incapable he was of dealing with it.

“i’m... so fucking sick of it. i’ve grown to be so sick of you and i hate that, y/n. i hate feeling like this but it’s the truth.”

“and you don’t think i am?” you blurt out, the dam of tears breaking as you hear him say those specific words to you - i’ve grown to be so sick of you.

your frame is smaller and fragile and you’re like a shell of the person you were when you first met as you make your way up to him, looking over him with all the pain and exhaustion in your eyes.

“you don’t think i’m sick of feeling this way? of seeing how much you obviously hate me and are over this when i can’t stop feeling this way? because i’m sorry it’s been inconveniencing you, mingi, but it’s been ruining me, too. sometimes i can’t even believe i’m still here.”

the last part of your sentence stirs something in him but he can only focus on your broken state. watching as you grow weaker and weaker because of him.

“you haven’t even been helping me,” you suddenly say, words quiet and soft-spoke but filled with an obvious hurt. “i... i don’t know why you’d even wanna go on a trip with me because we’d just fight, mingi. we’d just fight and i’d cry and you’d leave me. th-that’s what we keep doing.”

tears burn the back of his eyes, a knot growing in his stomach so big it feels like he’s about to puke.

“because i don’t know what to do anymore, y/n,” he say, his voice less harsh but still holding a certain degree of bite. “i tried so hard with you and nothing seems to work. i loved you, i still love you, and i was there for you and i tried so hard with you but... i don’t know how to help you.”

“you think yelling is the way? or leaving me is the way?” you laugh out manically, tears rolling down your face that you desperately try to reach out and wipe. “you’re sick of me but i’m sick of you, too. i’m sick of feeling this way and i’m so fucking sick of thinking you still love me.”

“you don’t think i love you?” he asks, rising from his chair and making his way over to you. 

his looming height should make you nervous, the way he’s looking down at you and threatening to trap you against the counter should make you nervous, but it doesn’t.

because coming to terms with this right here is the worst part. the conversation you’ve been avoiding for months and the obvious change in what you two have become.

“i don’t,” you say, finally meeting his gaze and seeing hurt and anger swirl behind them. they used to hold such a sweet softness that would sometimes make you feel better, even if just for a little bit.

“because even if you do, you’re still sick of me, right?”

one year ago:

“what if you get sick of me?”

the newest compromise had been his family coming here to meet you.

you and mingi had booked refundable tickets for a week in his hometown, a part of you wanting to desperately prove you could do something for him. something that would make him happy and maybe prove you love him a little more than you can convey.

but the second you got on the highway to the airport, you knew you weren’t gonna be able to.

memories played through your mind of you in the backseat of your parents car, laughing and talking with them as you promised to be careful and take a lot of pictures with them.

hearing them tell you they loved you and were so happy you were able to go after all.

and then you’d looked to the other side and see in your mind a car hitting the other. spinning out and smacking into the divider as an eruption of fire, car parts and the chaotic screeching of breaks echoed through the air.

mingi had to pull over to calm you down, bring you back to the real world in the form of hugging you close to his body and his hand running through your hair.

“i’m- i’m sorry, mingi, i’m sorry, i-”

“sh, you don’t have to apologize, baby, there’s nothing to apologize for,” he hums against your head, pulling you over the console to rock you gently in his lap.

he was warm and broad and soft spoken and everything about him made you feel safe. you couldn’t grasp at the time how or why he was so understanding and sweet but you didn’t even wanna question it.

because he was the one thing in your life that made you feel okay. that you had him and he had you and there was nothing that could be that bad if you had each other still. 

he didn’t let go of your hand once as pulled onto the highway, got off the exit and made his way back home.

he guided you back into the apartment and told you to go lay down and that he’d be there in a second. 

he cancelled the flight and called his mom, telling her you guys got rained out and that, if it was okay, he’d pay for them to fly out here next week.

the bed dips a few moments later, broad strong arms wrapping around your waist before you’re pulled into his chest.

it was after a few silent minutes stretched between you two, the calming rise and fall of his chest against your back, your small voice pierced the air.

“i’m sorry, mingi.”

he could tell you were gonna cry before you even started, turning you in his arms as he pulled you closer to him.

“baby, i already told you you don’t have to-”

“but i do,” you cut him off, lower lip trembling and stomach knotting guiltily. 

“i... i don’t think this is normal, mingi. i should be able to move on with my life and travel somewhere. i wanted to go so badly and meet your mom but i-” your voice breaks as tears fill your eyes and you try to catch the breath threatening to suffocate you.

“i’m scared i’m gonna be like this forever,” you say quietly, looking up and meeting his soft, sweet gaze. “i’m scared i’m gonna be like this forever and you’re gonna become tired of it.”

“baby... that’s never gonna happen,” he assures you, voice gentle but firm as he runs his fingers through your hair.

“and you’re not gonna be like this forever. we can get you help. and i can help you,” he says, his eyes looking into yours with such a raw honesty and love. “i... don’t really know how but i’ll do whatever it takes.”

“what if it’s not enough?” you ask, because at the time it’s like you knew just how bad this was gonna get. that even with as low as you felt then, it wasn’t even rock bottom.

“what if you get sick of me?”

“i won’t,” he reassures, pressing a long, lingering kiss to your head before settling you onto his chest carefully. “that’ll never happen because i love you, y/n. and i always will.”

present day:

in a turn of events, you were the one who left after that. 

came right to the place you first met, except now the lake isn’t frozen over and the late-afternoon sun had just set.

his words were too harsh and reminded you too much of his broken promises.

you felt too weak and pathetic and completely hopeless, the tense silence so horribly loud between you two you left without a word; and he hadn’t said anything either.

and now, as you sit at the spot you’ve always come to and found solace in, you can feel why he was always so hurt when you didn’t ask him to stay. because even though you were fighting and even though you both hurt each other, you wanted him to ask you to stay.

to please not go because that would’ve been the last possible way for you both to see there was something still there - even though it’s plain to see there isn’t.

too many fights and too many words have been said. too many lapses of silence and too many unspoken thoughts that now when uttered are just hurting both of you.

you’re both too hurt and you both have too many things to sort through that you can’t do together. 

one second you were staring down at the lake, your own broken reflection staring back as your feet hung in the water, and the next you couldn’t see. tears flooded your vision and sobs wracked through your body, loud, ugly, horrific sobs that you’ve been holding back for far too long.

you cry because you know it’s over with him, you know it’s been over for a while, but now it all feels real. 

you cry because you know you need some help to get past all of the guilt you feel, how if you don’t get help, you’re never gonna leave this town and see what else is out there.

you cry because you don’t even know where to start and know, even though it hurts, you have to do it alone.

you’re so lost in your thoughts and the way your cries echo through the yard that you don’t hear footsteps approach you.

you don’t even know anyone’s behind you until someone bends down and pulls you into their broad, warm chest. a chest you know far too well and a body that hasn’t held you like this in what feels like forever.

he knew you’d be here and he couldn’t stop his legs from jumping in the car and coming to see you after you left. half because he knew this had to happen and half because he was far too scared for you to be out here like this.

he knew what conversation was gonna follow but he knew had to hold you one last time. he missed holding you and he missed wiping your tears away.

“i don’t know what happened to us, mingi,” you whimper into his chest, the tears that have been building behind his eyes finally coming to the surface.

he doesn’t know what happened either. he doesn’t know when or where you guys went wrong or when you stopped talking to each other. he doesn’t know when he stopped loving you in such a way that was all consuming, where he knew he’d do anything and everything for you.

“i don’t... i don’t think this is working. i don’t know what to do but i know i can’t do this anymore.”

“i don’t know what happened either, baby,” he mumbles against your head, his words wobbly and wet as he tightens his hold on you. it feels as if every part of is heart is breaking, for the way he’s neglected you and the way your crying against him.

“i’m sorry i can’t help you. i wanted to so fucking badly but now... i just, i can’t, baby.”

you cry harder as you shake your head against him, feeling him plop down and pull you into his arms tighter.

it feels every bit as heartbreaking and upsetting as you both knew it’d be. it’s probably why you guys put it off for so long. because even though you feel the love you used to feel, you both know nothing will change.

he’ll resent you and you’ll resent him right back.

he’ll say he stayed for you and tried to help you and you’ll say you never asked him to do any of it.

you both sit there and cry and hold each other until the sky falls dark and air turns crisp, the moon reflecting off the lake in a way that hasn’t changed in two years.

but everything’s changed between you both and it’s too heartbreakingly obvious.

“i’ll miss you,” you mumbled to him.

because you know he’s gonna go on and do all the great things he’s wanted to. move out of this town and pursue whatever dreams he put off for you, the girl he once loved more than anything.

“i love you,” he confesses quietly against your head. “i really really did love you.”

because he knows he still does, he knows he always will, but it���s not something either of you can bear to hear right now.

you both have said what the other needed to hear and when you guys part tonight, maybe you’ll finally start feeling better. fix yourselves and the damage you’ve caused each other and maybe reunite when the universe deems it right.

two and a half years later:

it had always been your dream to see the northern lights.

something about them had always fascinated you, how they almost didn’t see real or were just a figment of fake editing that would only ever be seen in photos.

but you had an overwhelming need to see them before your very eyes. see the sight before you and marvel in just how truly fascinating and beautiful it was.

so that’s exactly what you did.

you wrote down a list of all the places you wanted to see: the egyptian pyramids, the great wall of china, the taj mahal, the eiffel tower, all of the sights that you knew in order to see, you’d have to leave the perfect little town you loved so much.

it took a lot of attempts, a lot of tears and anxiety and frantic calls to your therapist, but finally, you were able to do it.

it was the third to last place on your 6-month journey around the world, jet lag getting to you immensely but an extremely fulfilling pride and excitement within you.

you were able to do it. see the sights and meet hundreds of different people and experience all the things you convinced yourself you didn’t need or want. 

and you didn’t have a single regret until this very moment. 

because the rookie mistake you made within this amazing, journey of self-discovery around the world was not investing in a parka.

the biting temperatures of alaska were surely getting to you right now, your glove covered hands over your ears as you trekked through the snow with other groups of (properly dressed) tourists during the aurora season.

you found yourself in a snowy, freezing field, tall evergreen trees above your heads as you waited patiently for the sky to change perfectly, a buzzing excitement and low chatter from the people around you.

footsteps crunching on snow filled your ears from every direction, your eyes on the trees and large sky above you. a harsh gust of wind whipped past you and you let out a tiny squeal, your hands shooting up to your red, wind-burnt face.

you could hear a quiet, low chuckle beside you, something about the strangely familiar sound sending a whoosh of butterflies through your stomach. you didn’t understand them at that moment, ignoring your bodies odd reaction and keeping your eyes focused on the sky. 

it took hearing his voice, the same one you’d fallen in love with in your own backyard, for your eyes widen and quickly look over the snowy vast of land surrounding you.

mingi stepped in front of you, eyes full of amusement and pride and even disbelief, looking over your face with the same type of a fascination he had when he first met you.  

“aren’t you cold?”

inspired by: line without a hook by ricky montgomery, ty tiktok

tag list: @mochibabycakes @atinyarmyx1 @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich @chrryhwa @baekhvuns @marksflvr @bunbaebae @markleeyeosang @inkigayeo​ @nlost21​ @toffee-hwa​ @hyunjeansuniverse​ @cherryeonii​

#so aha.... not the dystopian au #but i was inspired by a song in the car and this happened <3 #mingi #mingi angst #mingi fluff #ateez #ateez angst #ateez fluff #mingi scenarios #mingi imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

[kinktae]

bitchin’ || pt. 9 (M)

↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES

The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.

pairing: fratboy!jungkook x reader

word count: 4.7k

genre: 1980s au, eventual smut, e2l

warnings: fanservice. that's it. that’s the tweet.

A/N: This fic was inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. Thank you to @junqkook for letting me use her likeness!

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

PART NINE

"Okay, just sign your name here, and she'll come to get you when she's ready." The cheery girl at the front desk told you.

You offered her a polite smile, walking over to the sit in the waiting room.

You always disliked these chairs. We were willing to bet money that these chairs have sat in this very room since your university first opened, worn out, uncomfortable, and outdated. Sure, maybe you had been in a bit of a sour mood lately – what with your fake ex-boyfriend dirty dicking you and all – but as you sat there, metal rod poking your spin, you couldn't help but frown.

As you sat there contemplating your school's renovation budget, you hardly noticed the sound of another student walking in and over to the front desk, your stomach churning as you put a face to those loose curls.

"Hey, stranger! What are you doing here?" Kiri's white teeth blinded you, walking over to you once her business with the receptionist was done.

You could feel one of your eyebrows twitch in irritation, swallowing down your scoff as she sat next to you.

"Trying to schedule my class next semester." You responded uninterestedly, contemplating whether or not the suspension from decking Kiri in the face would be worth it.

"Oh, just picking up a termination form. One of our newbies wants to pull out of Kappa Alpha Tau."

Shocker...

"Hey, so sorry to hear things with Jungkook and you didn't work out, by the way." Kiri flashed you a sympathetic look.

An audible breath left your lips, disbelief no doubt visible on your every feature. Did Kiri seriously think you didn't know it was her who home wrecked? Or was she just that much of a raging bitch?

"If you ever need someone to, like, talk to, just know that I'm here. I totally know what you're going through."

Your hands found themselves curling into tight balls in an attempt to keep your hands from shaking. Kiri looked as cool as a cucumber in front of you, perfectly composed, not a single hair out of place.

Then it hit you.

Of course. It all made perfect sense now.

From the moment she came up to you at your event offering her condolences, she had been trying to drive you off from Jungkook. She was planting seeds of doubt about their break up and his character. Manipulation and intimidation were her cards, and she played them well.

Fine. If the rules were being bent, you might as well disregard them altogether. You relaxed your hands.

"Oh, no worries. It's all good, I mean, it's not like we were actually dating." You shrugged.

Rule #2: No one can know the truth.

"What?" Kiri blinked, her smile faltering for just a moment.

You edged closer to her, cocking your head in mock surprise.

"Oh... did you not know that? That our entire relationship was contractual?"

"What are you talking about?" Her full brows furrowing.

You let out a sigh, "Yeah, so, basically, Jungkook would get his frat to fund my event if I helped make you jealous so that you'd come crawling back to him."

The polite mask that Kiri had plastered on finally cracked, her next words clipped and curt.

"What the hell is your damage, Y/N? Do you think I'm some sort of idiot how'd fall for that?"

"Good grief, did Jungkook not tell you? Weird, I feel like that's something he'd need to tell his girlfriend." You puffed out your bottom lip in mock sympathy.

Whatever resolve Kiri had built up crumbled at the way you held her stare, a note of honesty in your voice that she couldn't shake.

"I'm..." She cleared her throat, turning her nose up. "We're not actually back together yet."

"No? Really? Hmm..."

The call of your name crossed the room, and the two of you turned to look at the receptionist, ushering you over with the news that your counselor was ready for you.

You turned to Kiri with a smile, "Guess he didn't want you back as so much as he just wanted back in your pants."

Kiri looked utterly stunned, eyes wide as you stood from your seat, for once, without a clue as to what to say.

"See ya around, Kiri. Let's do lunch sometime. Oh and, happy holidays!" You fluttered your fingers at her, slipping away from her with a smugness you couldn't be assed to hide.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"Wait... he called you?!" Taehyung laughed, eyes wide.

Yara nodded, scouring through the shelves, a specific book in mind. Belinda Carlisle was playing softly overhead and Yara found herself humming along.

As the holidays rolled around and everyone found themselves back in their hometowns, Yara was surprised to find Jungkook's frat brother browsing through the jam aisle in her local supermarket. As luck would have it, Jungkook's genetically blessed frat brother was from her hometown, the two somehow never crossing paths until now.

What started as a polite catchup over coffee, quickly turned into an everyday thing, the two of them realizing they had more in common than friend drama.

"He did!" Yara enthused. "He left a voicemail apologizing and rambled about how he wanted Y/N's address so he could go apologize, blah, blah, blah."

"That idiot." Taehyung rolled his eyes. He watched as she let out a noise of excitement, looking over her shoulder to announce that she had found the book she was in search of. He grinned in response.

"Anyway, I didn't call back. Because that's exactly how she wants to spend Christmas morning, with that jockstrap knocking at her door, right?"

Taehyung snorted, bringing the straw of his drink to his mouth.

"Miriam is gonna have your head on a stick Lord of the Flies style if she catches you with that drink in her library." Yara warned, to which Taehyung dismissed with a wave of a hand.

Yara was a funny girl; he was pleasantly surprised to bump into her during winter break. He could tell something was off when they first ran into each other, so he invited her out to grab some coffee. It was over a warm cup of coffee – with the most absurd amount of sugar he had ever seen – that she finally shared with him all that had been weighing on her mind lately.

Sure there was the Jungkook and Y/N stuff. Yara was beyond homicidal. Taehyung was grateful for winter break as he was positive she would have rung out Jungkook's neck had she seen him after what had happened. Taehyung himself was astounded to find out what exactly was true nature of the two's relationship, curtesy of Yara, of course. Even if it was fake, however, he knew Jungkook enough to know that the happiness he gave off once Y/N entered his life wasn't.

But more than that, the petite girl was worried about a boy, an irritating one who Taehyung happened to be frat brothers with. Eunwoo had approached her immediately after Kiri left him, spewing some excuse about only dating Kiri because he couldn't get Yara out of his mind.

It was bullshit if you asked Taehyung. But he hadn't the heart to tell Yara that, especially with the way she looked so torn up about it – unsure of how to respond to Eunwoo. He wasn't entirely sure what their relationship was like, but he figured it must have meant enough to her to have her feeling this conflicted.

So he did his best to cheer her up, inviting her for lunch and driving her to their local library, which he had come to find out was her favorite place growing up. They spent many afternoons sprawled out on the couches in the now abandoned children's section of the library... or at least until the crabby librarian yelled at them to leave.

If Taehyung was honest, he didn't care much for literature – he was a math guy – but the way Yara would shove a book into his chest with wide eyes and an 'if you don't read this and tell me your thoughts on it, I'll literally die,' seemed reason enough to keep showing up day after day.

"Have you talked to her about Eunwoo, yet?"

Yara flinched at the blond man's words.

"Why don't we ever talk about normal people stuff? Like the weather, or what sports team played last night."

"Yara..."

"Oooh!" She exclaimed suddenly, "I know, let's talk about President Reagan. Did you hear his speech about tearing down the wall in Germany? Crazy stuff–"

"Dude, why are you so scared to tell her about Eunwoo? You told me." Taehyung interrupted, quirking up a brow. Yara held his eyes for a moment before sighing.

"I just don't want to bring it up to Y/N, you know? She has enough going on..."

"So? She's your best friend. She'll want to help."

"Exactly! She's going to want to comfort me and make me feel better – which will just make me feel worse." Yara groaned, leaning back against the bookshelf.

"I'm... not following." The frat boy admitted.

Surely girls aren't usually this hard to understand.

"Look, I know you'd only known me for a little while, but let me pencil you in. I have a reputation, okay? Yara doesn't get hung up on some dumb boy." Yara wagged her finger at him.

"Does Yara usually talk about herself in the third person?" Taehyung chuckled.

"Yara," she continued, paying the boy no mind, "is an independent woman who likes one night stands and sex without strings. She doesn't like clingy boys getting into her head and confusing her."

Taehyung nodded, "So basically, Yara is scared of catching feelings."

"Shh! Don't tell Yara about what Yara doesn't want to hear." She turned her nose up at him, pushing herself back off the stand to march away from him. Taehyung reached for her arm without hesitation, stopping her departure with a sigh.

"Look, I don't mean to be on your ass about this, but clearly, you feel something for this kid. Otherwise, you wouldn't be spending all your time pining over him."

Taehyung immediately wished he could take back those words as an offended look fell across the petite girl's face, her hands falling onto her hips, clearly displeased.

"Pining? You think I'm pining over Eunwoo?"

Taehyung shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to navigate this situation. As much as he liked Yara, she did spark a healthy dose of fear into him.

"Well... I mean... you're spending your whole break with me just because I can give you a ride to the library so you can read sad romance novels and cry."

"First of all," Yara began, "I happen to enjoy your company. You're a good listener and, frankly, very nice to look at."

Surprise fell over Taehyung, "Nice to look at?"

"Oh, don't act like you don't know." She waved him off, "Secondly, I've never cried. I've let out a sniffle at most."

"Fine, so you're not pining over him. Just get back together with him." He responded.

"I can't."

Taehyung frowned, "Then turn him down."

"I can't do that either." She frowned right back.

"Dude."

"I'm scared, okay!" She whined, thumping a foot against the library's carpeted floor.

"Of what? What's holding you back from going back to Eunwoo?"

"...He told me he loves me."

"And?"

"And I don't even know what that means!" Yara threw her hands up in exasperation, the sleeve of her swear falling down her forearms. "I don't know how to love him back or be a good girlfriend – which I know is what he wants from me."

"Yara, I hope you don't feel like you don't owe Eunwoo anything. Because you don't." Taehyung grew serious, which only caused the torn girl to pout.

"I know, I just... I mean, I don't hate him. But it's scary. Whenever I'm dating someone, I get all up in my head like... Am I supposed to be this someone's person? Possibly forever? What the fuck!"

"No, I get it. It's a lot of pressure." He shrugged powerlessly.

"Exactly! I don't want to have to try and love someone. I want to do it. Like... not to sound like a sappy idiot but sometimes I think about all those stories I read," she gestured towards the books beside her, "about feeling a spark when you kiss your person and just... I dunno. Would be fucking nice, instead of this complicated bullshit."

Yara was far from a hopeless romantic. As much as she loved to read about romance, she had an innate urge to flee the moment the word love came around. Still, she could appreciate the idea of it.

"So then forget about that stuff. Forget about labels and expectations. Just be with whoever you want to be with. Have fun, worry about the heavy shit later."

Taehyung had a very soothing effect whenever he spoke. His tone was low and lovely, and despite the way Yara's head was still running a mile a minute, she appreciated the boy's docile nature. Certainly made her feel a whole lot less anxious.

"I want to. That's how this whole thing with Eunwoo started, ya know?" She admitted, crossing her arms over her chest. "But all men are the same. They say they're fine with keeping it casual, but they always end up falling for me, which, duh, understandable..."

The blond boy let out an airy snicker, a direct challenge to Yara's words.

"Something funny, Tae?" She pressed.

"C'mon, that's not true." He rolled his eyes breezily.

"Oh, yeah? Tell that to my four ex-partners who are all still in love with me."

"Maybe you just haven't met the one. You know... your knight-in-no-strings-attached-armor."

"I'm telling you, no such guy exists." Yara emphasized with a poke into Taehyung chest.

He grabbed the jabby finger reflexively, his long fingers wrapping around the small digit, setting his drink on the nearest shelf.

"Yara."

"Seriously, I've done my research! You're looking at a hot commodity, buddy. I may be a raging homebody, but I am very efficient—"

Suddenly, the petite was trapped against the bookshelf with Taehyung hovering over her, a large hand on either side of her head.

"Please stop talking."

Yara's cheeks flushed in surprise as she met the handsome boy's warm eyes, growing even hotter as he leaned over and pressed his mouth against hers.

He smelled distinctly of vanilla, and it sent her stomach fluttering, reeling in the way he gripped her waist, pulling him into her. She would've lost herself in the feeling of his soft lips moving against hers if it weren't for a cough ringing out from somewhere in the library.

Yara broke the kiss short, ears red as she brought her hands to wrap around her torso defensively, trying her hardest to ignore the way her heart was pounding against her chest as if trying to escape.

"You kissed me!" She scoffed, trying her hardest to seem unaffected. Taehyung shrugged.

"You kissed me back."

Oh god, this was bad. She felt all light and giddy tucked away in this corner of the library, the gorgeous tall man still close in proximity, looking at her through a smirk.

"Yes, well... I'm a very go with the flow kind of gal." She defended, brows furrowed adorably.

"Relax, Yara."

"Well, what the hell was that precisely?! Do you just make out with all your library buddies? Is there some sort of library buddy étiquette I'm not aware of?"

"I kissed you because I wanted to. Kissing is fun." He shrugged. "Some guys just want that, you know."

Son of a bitch.

"You got balls, Goldilocks. Understood. Message received, loud and clear." Yara acknowledged through narrowed eyes.

"Happy I could help, bookworm."

A corner of her mouth turned upwards, admittedly amused.

"Just so we're on the same page... you're not in love with me? You just smooched me for fun?" She looked at him skeptically.

"Sorry you had to find out this way." Taehyung joked, earning him an eye roll.

"And you don't have some ex-lover you need to make jealous?"

At those words, the frat boy laughed heartily, head shaking a firm no.

"Wicked."

Yara hopped onto the balls of her feet, hoping to catch the blond's kiss once more when her mouth met the hardcover of a book instead. She sank back down with an annoyed huff; Taehyung had pulled a book from the nearest self in reach, holding it up between them to pause the eager girl's ministrations.

Poking his head out from behind the book cheekily, he flashed her a lopsided grin.

"Easy there, tiger. What about Eunwoo?"

Yara held his eyes for a moment, wondering how she hadn't noticed what a pretty brown they were until now. She let out an appreciative hum.

"What about him?" She raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk on her lips that had Taehyung leaning back over to meet it with one of his own.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"Thanks for agreeing to meet with me." You greeted him with a cautious smile as he slipped into the chair across from you.

You were nervous, to say the least, watching the tall man shift in his seat, trying to grow comfortable despite the uncomfortable circumstances.

"This place is disorienting." Erik scanned the mall cafeteria before flashing you a charming smile. "Thought you'd get tired of waiting and head back home. I apologize for my tardiness."

"No worries. I still don't know my way around at the mall, and I've been home for weeks." You grinned back.

A pleasant beat of silence passed between the two ex-lovers, each taking a moment to consider the other. Erik looked a lot older than he did in high school; he had on a brand new pair of glasses that suited him far better than the ones you remembered did. His hair was combed and styled smartly so that they would stay out of his eyes. A stark contrast from the long-haired boy you had come to know these past few months.

Dammit. Your eyes fell onto the red table between you two, cheeks growing warm as you realized your thoughts had drifted back to Jungkook, even with your ex-fiance sitting across from you.

Erik's voice rang out, "I'll be honest. I wasn't expecting you to call me."

"I wasn't expecting me to either." You confessed, your hands intertwining on the tabletop.

Really, you didn't have much reason to be nervous. I mean, it was Erik. Despite the end of your relationship, there was no bad blood between you two. It wasn't the first time seeing him since the breakup either... maybe it was why you had called him that had you so on edge.

You weren't sure exactly what you wanted from Erik. Company? A distraction? Maybe what you were asking of him was unfair, but as he placed a hand over yours reassuringly, you found the wall you had set up crumbling down.

"I can help you, but you need to talk to me, Y/N. If I could read minds, I would be a much richer man." His brown eyes rolled dramatically.

You chuckled. Same dry wit you remembered.

"I met someone."

"Is that what you wanted to tell me? Y/N, you're allowed to date other people. I understand your hesitation, but really, it is time you moved on–"

You let out a scoff, yanking your hand away from the now laughing man. You flashed him a feigned look of irritation, silently grateful for the change of pace in conversation, finding it much easier to talk when things weren't so tense.

"God, you are still just as full of yourself as I remembered." You teased.

Erik shrugged, "Not to sound like a cocky asshole, but is it not warranted?"

You let that question run through your mind. You suppose if anyone had reason to have a big head, it would be Erik. Intelligent, handsome, hard-working– everything a mother would want their daughter to have.

"It is. You've always been perfect..." You mused, a hint of sadness in your tone that Erik picked up quickly.

And all at once, his entire demeanor changed, a serious expression settling behind those frames of his.

"Tell me about him." He instructed calmly.

And so you did— the beginning, the end, and all the beautiful bits in between. You told him about a boy that challenged you in ways you never imagined– a boy who made you feel like the sun. You spoke of every stupid conversation you once thought of as meaningless but now weighed heavily on your heart and mind.

You were mad at him, of course. There was a reason you had been ignoring his calls and ordered Yara to keep him in the dark of your whereabouts, after all. But the more you talked about him, the more you lit up. Erik noticed it too. How could he not? It was that very way you spoke with an uncontainable passion that made him fall in love with you in the first place.

He watched with utmost concentration for the vocal inflections of your words, the slight movement of your brows that always seemed to speak your mind before you did.

It was clear to him that this boy wasn't just a boy. He could hear in the choice of words you used, words that were static and void of variables. But there were certain words you seemed to dance around he realized as you came to the end of the story... words that were evident to all but you.

"So... Analysis?" You breathed out, chest deflating as you took in Erik's frown.

"Above all... did you find out if he used protection? I don't want to presume anything about... was her name Kiri?" Erik paused, continuing once you nodded back at him, "but your health should be your number one concern."

"I had a friend of his ask him on my behalf. He says he used protection... I went ahead and got tested anyway, though, and I'm all good thankfully." You told him.

Whether or not Jungkook had passed along some sort of STI was heavy on your mind the next morning after you kicked him out. Thankfully, Taehyung was more than happy to get the answer you need but were still too damn pissed off to seek out yourself.

"Good." Erik sunk back into his seat, a hand coming up to run through his hair as he considered his next words. You suppose you were grateful to be able to talk to Erik like this still. Sure, he was blunt and sometimes stared at you like you were some case-study, but he didn't bat an eye of judgment at the news of the contract, for which you were grateful. He had known you for too long to find it peculiar that you'd pretend to be someone's girlfriend in exchange for furthering and fulfilling your passion project.

If anything, that was precisely in line with your character. He liked to think he instilled some of those traits into you.

"Well, frankly, I am sorry to hear this happened to you. You're a great girl; you deserve better than that."

Your neck warmed at Erik's words, slightly taken aback.

"Oh, um... thanks, that means a lot coming from you." You expressed your gratitude shyly.

Erik nodded back at you, "Seriously. It was very shitty of him to string you along for so long and for sleeping with Kiri despite knowing how you felt."

"Oh."

"Oh?" He frowned, not expecting your response.

You shifted in your seat uncomfortably, pausing to watch a woman with a stroller walk past your table.

"Well..." you cleared your throat, "I'm not actually sure that he knows that I, um, like him... like that."

God, this was mortifying. The first time you had admitted you liked Jungkook and it was to your ex-fiancé? Sometimes you swear you were the protagonist in a mediocre rom-com film and no one was telling you.

Erik paused, "I see. And does he know now?"

"...No."

"I see." He sat up, fingers tapping against the table in interest. He quirked up a brow at you. "Perhaps it wasn't just him who was dishonest."

You scrunched your nose at him, not liking what you were hearing. It wasn't anything that hadn't already kept you up, tossing and turning in bed at 2 AM, of course. You had a feeling this was where this conversation would lead to. Erik, as genius as he was, was fairly predictable in this sense. Rational, dependable... nothing like the spontaneous boy you had fallen for.

"So? Even if he knew, what would that change? He slept with her..." You grumbled stubbornly.

"And maybe he wouldn't have if he had known."

You crossed your arms, "You don't know that."

"You're right. I don't. I don't even know the guy. But you do." He continued, offering you a suggestive look.

Huh. Did you think that would have stopped Jungkook? And even so, would that fact alone be enough to get you to forgive him?

"I... I don't know." Was your conclusion, pulling a hum from Erik.

"Guess the only way to know would be to discuss it with the meathead himself."

"I just... I don't want to get my heart broken again. I, quite literally, didn't sign up for this." You placed your face into your hands, hating how rational Erik had to be.

"My guess? He didn't either. It seems as if you both got more than you bargained for." He shrugged.

"He's definitely not at all what I was expecting..." You trailed off glumly.

When you first met Jungkook, he was obnoxious, cocksure, and grotesquely unbothered. You swore you had never hated anyone more on the first meet. But as you came to know him, you found in him a lot of what you wished you found in yourself. Approachable, flexible, spontaneous...

You just wished it all didn't have to hurt so bad.

"You and I are a lot alike, you know." Erik spoke up once he noticed you fall silent. " And I only realized this recently, but I think that was our downfall. When I asked you to marry me, what I was asking of you... Well, it was unfair. Because I know I would never accept that if I were in your shoes."

Your head shot up at his words, hands quick to wave at him dismissively. Asking him to meet you here was not to discuss what had gone wrong in your relationship, and you didn't want him to think that it was.

"Erik, that's okay you don't have to—"

"No, no, what I mean is... we made perfect sense together and it didn't work out in the end. This meathead of yours is nothing like you and maybe it's for the better. You said it yourself that he makes you feel important and formidable." He pressed on.

"Are you trying to imply the notion of opposites attract? Because I personally believe that's a myth and that we're drawn to those similar to us—"

"Puzzle pieces."

"Wha— Huh?" You blinked, blind-sighted by the calm man's sudden words.

Suddenly, Erik readjusted in his seat, leaning in close as he nodded his head.

"Think of life as one big puzzle, and everyone you meet is shaped differently, right? Yet somehow... they fit. We find those that complete us. And they're not necessarily opposites but—"

"But different pieces in the puzzle." You sighed, understanding the metaphor.

You raised a brow at the intellectual man, "That was uncharacteristically poetic of you. I thought you were a man of science... since when do you rely on literary devices to get your point across?"

Erik let out a dramatic sigh, fingertips pressed to the rip of his glasses, leaning back into his seat as if showing his greatness.

"I'm a growing man, Y/N. Science helps you understand the mind and the body, but as far as the heart goes... there's only so much it can tell us." He tutted wisely with a wag of his pointer finger.

"Wow. I dig this character development. I quite like this new you."

"Wanna get married now?" He deadpanned suddenly, a laugh ripping out of you at his unexpected words.

Erik grinned at the familiar sound, also finding the humor within his joke. He was pleased to see that if anything, he could at least momentarily take your mind off of your heart's turmoil.

"Ask me again in another three years." You rolled your eyes, grinning wide, to which Erik threatened that if Jungkook didn't by then, then he just might.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #bangtan smut #bangtan #bts scenarios #bts preferences #bts imagines #Taehyung smut #yoongi smut #jungkook x reader #jeongguk x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts fan fic #jimin smut #hoseok smut #Seokjin smut #namjoon smut

[hearteyesbowen]

hiii! there’s this trend going on where if someone’s boyfriend is on a zoom class or playing on the ps4 their girlfriend flashes them and i thought it would be a cool idea to write what would happen if joshs girlfriend flashed him while he was on live and he get flustered and ends it to hang out w her if you know what i meannnn!! thank youu ur amazing

attention ☆ joshua bassett

how else is y/n going to get the attention of her boyfriend?

warnings: swearing , suggestive fluff

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“On my left, on my left!”

“No, no no!”

“Shit!”

Come over, he said.

It’ll be fun, he said.

We’re going to spend the whole day together, he said.

Bullshit, you said.

You could have done something else today, something more productive. Study for the tests you would have and inevitably fail the next week, maybe work out like you said you would this past New Year’s, clean your room from the mess you made while looking for your charger. Today could have been a productive day.

That said, you were never one to back up from being with your boyfriend. His schedule was pretty hectic with all the filming, interviews, and whatever it is that celebrities do, you didn’t pay much attention anyways. So when your usually busy boyfriend offers to hang out with you on one of his free days, it’s a steal.

Then he got an invite to play some video game with Matt and Larry. Then he asked if he could play a quick round, It would only be five minutes, babe. Then that one round turned into two, then five, then he doesn’t realize he has been playing for nearly an hour. Then you’re lying down on his bed behind him as he plays, and wonder if this was worth the procrastination you could have done at home. The answer is no.

You huff, staring at the ceiling above you, hoping there was something more interesting on the walls than hearing Josh laugh as he gets another shot in. Your legs dangle off the side of his bed while you lay on your back, strands of hair in various directions over your face.

“Josh?” You groan, tugging the hem of shirt and seeing a little bit of his back.

“Fuck off!” He screamed, smashing the buttons of his controller angrily.

Surprised, you sat up, making him turn his head. He gave you a quick look, pushing his headset away from his ears slightly so he could hear you better.

“Did you say something, babe?”

“I thought today would be just us, not us and your friends screaming at each other.”

He didnt respond for a few seconds, not until he was shot down and the round ended, erupting more profanities leaving his lips, and his controller leaving his hand.

“I’m sorry, what did you say? I couldn’t hear you.” He picked up his controller and fixed his headset, waiting for his match to start in 30 seconds.

“Are you going to give me any attention today? Or should I just go home?”

His head shot back towards you, eyebrows furrowed. “Already? Ok, I’ll just do one more round. Then we can watch a movie later.”

Without another word, he whipped his head back to the tv. You rolled your eyes, fixing your messy hair. Reaching for your phone beside you, you decide to scroll through your Twitter. Endless tweets from friends, celebrities you follow, and ads from various brands. Then a certain tweet caught your eye, retweeted by one of your hometown friends:

when your boyfriend won’t give you any attention 😂😂

Followed by a video from Tiktok, which was a girl recording her boyfriend in a similar situation as Josh, and from what you could assume, she was naked, which immediately caught the eyes of her boyfriend.

As if a lightbulb popped up from above your head, you smirked. You might as well give it a shot, he said one more round 20 rounds ago. Maybe you wouldn’t just completely strip in front of your boyfriend, let’s take some baby steps.

You stood up, stretched out your arms and back a little, and scanned the room. Josh’s desk was right next to his tv, so you thought that would be the perfect place for your little plan. Before making your way to the table, you unclip your bra from under your shirt, the tight feeling around your chest being relieved. You toss your bra on his bed, Josh not even noticing what you’re doing.

Casually striding to his desk, you lean against the counter, hands on the surface. The shirt you were wearing was a bit oversized, so your chest wasn’t as visible. You stare at Josh for a few seconds, wondering if he would even give you a glance. Of course, nothing.

Alright, initiating plan now.

“It’s a bit hot today, isn’t it?” You asked, changing your voice to sound more innocent compared to the annoyance you had earlier.

His eyes stay glued to the screen, his tongue caught in between his teeth. How dare he look so hot right now.

“Yeah, a little.” He mumbled.

You grab your shirt’s collar and start to fan it against yourself, hopefully making him look at you. You play with your hair, fluffing it out to make it look fanned, overall just trying to make yourself look as appealing as possible right now.

Still, no response.

Step two, here we go.

“It’s super hot right now, could we turn on a fan or something?”

You proceed to lift up your shirt over your head, throwing it across the room. You play with your hair more, looking anywhere around the room but him.

That was when he noticed. At first, it was a harmless peek as to what you were doing, then he took a second glance to fully notice you. His mouth hung open and his eyes widened, and suddenly nothing else mattered. Not the video game going on in front of him, not his friends’ muffled yells through his headphones, not even the fact that his character died seconds after he averted his eyes away from the screen. Just the way you looked, whether or not you had a shirt on, it was like the first time you met all over again.

When you looked his way, you couldn’t help but giggle at his red face. What else could you have done to get him away from that controller?

You looked him up and down and smiled, sending him a wink before you looked away.

“Yeah, uhm, guys? I have to go now, see ya.”

He ripped off his headset, turned off the tv, and left his controller on top of his console before practically running to you. He held your waist, his warms hands coming into contact with your cold skin as he stood in front of you. His face stayed the same since he first saw you, making you hold in your laughter.

“Wow, you’re so beautiful.” He whispered in awe, taking in all of you.

“I would hope so, seems like this is the only way for me to get you to notice me.”

“I’m sorry, no more video games when it’s an ‘us’ day, promise.”

You leaned up to gently press your lips against his, holding his cheeks in your hands. He smiled against your lips, and pulled away. His lips grazed your cheeks, leaving small kisses from your cheek to your ear.

“Why don’t I make it up to you, would you like that?”

His lips then trailed down your neck, painfully slow. Each kiss lingered even longer, his path stopping at your collarbone. He looked up at you with a smirk, noticing you nod rapidly. He moved up, kissing along your jaw and lightly sucking right by your ear, making a soft moan leave your lips.

“You said it was hot earlier,” He started, kissing your lips quickly.

His hands traveled down to under thighs as he effortlessly picked you up. You wrapped your legs around his torso, your hands around his neck.

“You better get used to it, because it’s about to get a lot hotter.”

“You’re so stupid.” You laugh.

“Did you expect anything else from me?”

A/N - this is a really late one , im so sorry to whoever requested this . but i hope u like it, it was fun to write (: this is also somewhat unedited so bear with me . also also i passed my drivers test so watch out road , im now a danger to society (; anyways love y’all xx

taglist - @love-joshy @mzzjads @seaveyssparkle @iamveryborrrreddd

#ricky bowen imagine #ricky bowen x reader #ricky bowen #ricky bowen blurbs #ricky bowen fluff #ricky bowen angst #ricky bowen oneshot #joshua bassett x reader #joshua bassett #joshua bassett oneshot #joshua bassett blurbs #joshua bassett fluff #joshua bassett angst #hsmtmts imagine #hsmtmts #joshua bassett imagine

[propaganda-for-poets]

the dps as my favorite things that i've felt

neil

backstage during show time. no time to write, quick, i need to be quick. trying to contain laughter with my castmates as the person on stage goes through a monologue we've seen them mess up a billion times. bursting to giggles at little stage mishaps the audience probably wouldn't notice. frantically looking for a script to make sure we have all our lines memorized right and all our props for the next scene ready. a rush of adrenaline before i have to step back on stage. i look in front of me. the audience is all there, but i don't see anyone. they're not important. they too are just props to this moment of my life. this, this is for us. this is for me.

todd

out at my grandma's house in the country. the country's quiet, and dark, there are no lights. perfect. it's far too late and i'll have to be quick if i don't want my absence noticed, but i rush up to the roof. stars. stars, stars, stars. i always read about how many they were, i wasn't unaware, but i could never see them in the city. not like this. i originally shuffled my playlist but i ended up listening to yesterday by the beatles on repeat, it didn't feel right to change the song. it'd shift the atmosphere, and i just wanted everything to stay the same.

charlie

stuck up on the byzantine wall. well, admittedly, i've fucked up. that wall is one of my town's only historical sights worth seeing and it is very illegal to be on it, but it's late, people are home by now and i always used to climb it and walk along it when i was little, why not do it for nostalgia's sake? of course, that was a long time ago and apparently my way down is now blocked. i can't get off. my friends probably think this is hilarious, one of the is filming me and one had to sit down to breathe, and i should be scared that i won't get down or that i'll get in trouble but, frankly, i don't care. i'll find a way out, i always do, i can at least enjoy this. because, boy, is it fun.

knox

walking home, a little later than 10 pm. i know that rehearsal ended at 9 and the plan was to walk him home and go back, but i couldn't leave. when he asked me to sit down next to him, right outside his building's door, at least until we finished out conversation, i couldn't leave. it's rarely i get to see him like this. he seems careless. he seems genuine, and that's a word i've never associated with him. he's cracking jokes and sharing stories and smiling so wide, it makes my chest warm. he kissed me on the cheek before i left. it's not unusual to hug him, but he kissed me on the cheek. i whistle a tune on my way home.

pitts

biking through my hometown. it was already cloudy when i left the house and to be honest i was expecting it to rain, but i didn't mind. the rain felt nice, like it cleansed me of whatever was upsetting me. i laugh, loudly. no one was around to hear anyways, who else in their right mind would leave the comfort of their home in the middle of the rain to go on a bike ride? i stop at a park, there's a swing set. i've always loved swings, i stop there for a little bit. i go to my best friend's house, yell outside his window. he pokes his head out, wearing the hood of his jacket. "are you out of your mind?"

meeks

it's far too late for me to be studying. it's not even like i need to, right? i should be good by now, and even if i wasn't, i've failed tests before, it's a small moment of disappointment that doesn't last for long after the teacher takes our graded papers back. still, as i'm sitting under candle light, completely focused for the first time in my life, i find myself almost enjoying ancient greek. no, not almost, i'm enjoying it. how i love language. i check my phone, 2:00 am. i could go on for a little longer, this is nice, this is familiar. this is my language, where i came from. besides, how great will it be when i ace this test? i've never liked to study, but learning might be my new favorite thing. what else do you think was kept in the library of alexandria?

cameron

oh. so i'm... included? i was pretty used to being alone, it struck me when she came and asked me to sit with her, when the girl behind us initiated a real conversation with me, and that friendly competition the person in the front started with me over grades is fun. i sat during P.E. as i usually do. and people talked to me. people wanted to talk to me. maybe this school isn't all that scary. maybe i should join those little conversations during class today. maybe it's okay if the lesson pauses for a bit. maybe it's okay if they hear me for once.

#🩹 jace posts #this was written mostly to appease myself but.. here u go anyways!! #snippets of my life. well. the important ones. as the poets. #dps #dead poets society #neil perry #todd anderson #charlie dalton #knox overstreet #stephen meeks #steven meeks #gerard pitts #richard cameron

[axoxtxhxh]

Not Without Trying - Chapter 5

Summary: The reader learns the truth about Reiner. Also, this is the last part of the ReinerxReader section of the story. For the next few chapters it’s LevixReader.

ReinerxFem!Reader

Warnings: Death

Word Count: ~ 1,600

A/N: This chapter is super short and quite fast because it’s one of those get from point A to point B chapters, but it was still very necessary. So I hope it doesn’t feel too rushed.

They were all racing away from the oncoming titans. The mission wasn’t supposed to go down like this. Wall Rose shouldn’t have been breached. Miche thought of a quick plan to warn the nearby villages, but safety was always going to be a concern, not just for civilians, but for them as well.

As soon as the plan was put into action, the titans broke out into an all-out run. Y/N had never seen them move so fast. They were barreling down towards them and they needed to figure out what they were going to do, and fast.

“Y/N.” Miche’s voice broke her from her thoughts. “Take control of the south group. I’m going to see if I can buy us some time.”

“Miche, that’s—”

“We need more people with the south team. Stay.” He quickly argued and rode off.

She watched him ride towards the titans. Something seemed off. Why did they all start running for no reason? They’ve encountered abnormals, but the sudden sprint these titans had made her uneasy.

“Gelgar! Take over the south team!” She quickly rode in the direction Miche went. She made sure to stay far enough behind that he couldn’t see her and as far as she knew, she was downwind so he shouldn’t be able to smell her.

She saw him jump off his horse attacking several of the titans in one go. By the time she reached him, he had taken out half of them and was putting his blades away. She pulled up behind the house he was standing on.

“I thought I told you to stay with the south team.” He called down. She slumped her shoulders over and flew up to join him on the roof.

“How did you know I followed?”

“I could smell you the whole time.” Damn.

“Something seems off.” She looked off into the distance.

“We should join the other teams. I just need my horse.” Miche was about to call his horse, bringing his fingers to his lips to whistle when Y/N slapped his hand down, pulling Miche down with her to lay flat on the roof.

“What the fuck is that?” She pointed to a huge hairy titan sauntering ahead of them.

“I’ve never seen one covered in hair like that.”

“Just leave your horse, we can ride mine.” She started sliding herself back down to the edge of the roof. “We need to warn everyone. I have a feeling it’s going to get bad.”

They both hopped onto her horse to join back up with the south team.

…..

Miche and Y/N caught up to the south team as they were leaving Connie’s hometown. It got dark quickly after that. Riding at night was always better for the simple fact that titans didn’t seem to move around at night. Skimming the wall wasn’t too hard, but at the point they were at, they probably should have found the hole.

“Where the breach?” Y/N whispered to herself. “Lights, up ahead.”

“It’s Nanaba.” Miche sniffed, moving forward. “Have you found the hole?”

“No. I assumed it was on your end.” She replied.

“There’s no breach?” Y/N was confused.

Y/N knew this seemed weird. Something was definitely off. A town emptied of people, no blood or signs of an attack when titans came from that direction, no breach in the wall when titans had to come from somewhere. Something really wasn’t right.

“We should find somewhere to stay.” Nanaba suggested.

They were lucky enough to be near an abandoned castle that they took shelter in, but it wasn’t long before Miche caught the scent of more titans.

“Titans, maybe a dozen.” He told them, pointing in the direction they were coming from.

“That doesn’t make sense.” Y/N squinted her eyes to see farther. ��Why are the titans still active when the has already set?”

They all made it to the roof to get as far from the door as they could, calling the recruits to join them.

“Miche, look.” Y/N pointed to the hairy titan they had seen early. He was making his way to the wall. The other smaller titans were climbing the castle walls and knocking down the door to get in.

Y/N, Miche and their squad quickly switched to their 3DM gear, jumping over the side to take out the titans. Between the eight of them, it didn’t take long.

“They broke the door. Someone go check on the recruits.” Miche called.

“What’s that sound?” Gelgar asked. They all looked up before a crash came from the stables. Another sound and they all tried to move up to the roof, but not before two of Miche’s squad and two of Y/N’s squad got hit.

“What the hell?” Y/N reached the roof. It was boulders. Someone was throwing boulders at them. They looked to the direction of where they came from and saw the hairy beast titan. Y/N looked to Miche. They were both a mixture of worry, fear, and confusion.

Dozens more titans were on their way to them.

“The timing of this is strange,” Nanaba said standing up. The four scouts still alive went back down the side of the castle to take out the new titans that arrived.

They were all nearly out of gas and almost entirely out of blades, but so many titans still remained.

“Gelgar!” Y/N watched him slip from his spot on the castle wall, blood leaking from his head. Nanaba and Miche both went for the titan grabbing him and sliced the nape. Nanaba ran out of gas just as she went to fly back up. Miche noticed and went down to grab her, but ran out of gas himself. Y/N used the last bit of gas she had to fly down to Miche and pull him to the roof.

It was all too much. Too much happening at once, no one had time to think. There were still five recruits along with Miche and Y/N with no weapons, no gas and no way to get out of this.

Y/N looked over to Reiner. She could tell he was worried. He made a motion to walk over to her, opening his mouth, but then stopped, knowing there really wasn’t anything they could do. They both knew this wasn’t going to end well. She turned to Miche and pulled him to the side, away from the recruits.

“What’s the plan?” she asked, hushing her voice. “it doesn’t look like we have many options.”

Miche rubbed his beard, frustrated and worried over the situation. He looked around, running different plans in his head. He turned back to look at her.

“Okay, I am going to take Henning and Lynne’s 3DM tanks and blades and try to take out as many as I can. You and the recruits—”

“Are you kidding?” She was annoyed.

“That’s the only way—”

“Don’t be stupid. We will just be killed shortly after you are.”

“Well, what—” a loud noise came from behind them and they quickly turned around.

“What just happened?!” Y/N moved quickly to where the recruits were looking.

“Ymir… was a titan,” Reiner said, his eyes wide, his eyes looking at her, but lost in thought.

They all watched as she took out a large number of titans before the titans started pulling and biting her. She fought her way through, slashing more as they grabbed her.

Y/N could feel the ground shaking as the weight of the titans climbing up the tower became too much and the tower started falling.

Quickly, Ymir climbed up to them, instructing them to grab onto her. Miche and Y/N stepped back. She spoke. She just spoke in a titan form. The recruits started climbing her hair and holding tightly. As strange of a situation as it was, Miche and Y/N also grabbed on just as the tower crumbled to the ground.

The situation wasn’t much better on the ground though. Reiner reached over to Y/N, grabbing her arm and pulling her closer to him. She looked up at him confused as he held his hand in his mouth.

Y/N heard a familiar buzzing sound and looked over to see the rest of the scouts flying in and taking out the titans and she breathed a sigh of relief.

They were saved.

As soon as the titans were taken care of, they all got back up on the wall to safety. Y/N helped pull the rest of the scouts and cadets up as Hange debriefed her and Miche. She noticed Hange taking glances at Reiner speaking to Eren and thought there must have been something that happened while she was gone. Perhaps Eren can no longer control his titan.

Reiner made eye contact with Y/N, waving her over and she stood up and walked over. Eren was speaking with Bertoldt when Reiner quickly pulled her into a hug.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He pulled away and looked her in the eyes. He was scared, but she didn’t know why. They were saved, they made it. Everything was okay now. He started slowly backing away from her.

“Reiner, what are you doing?” She stood up. She was so confused. She didn’t understand what he was doing and why he was apologizing.

“I wish we had known each other sooner.” He had backed up until he was almost over the edge of the wall.

“Reiner! Be careful!”

“I love you so much.” He pulled the sling off of his arm, steam pouring from his wound. Mikasa flew over Y/N, cutting Reiner and Bertoldt with her blades and pulling Eren away.

“Mikas—” Y/N yelled, but someone was dragging her away from Reiner and Bertoldt. Suddenly lightning shot out, the area in front of them filling with smoke and steam.

Y/N couldn’t think clearly, the pieces coming together so slowly. What just happened? Did a titan appear? What was Reiner talking about? Was he okay? Why was there steam coming from his arm? Titan steam. Y/N’s heart started racing. No, no, it can’t be that! It can’t be that! She looked up as the smoke cleared. The yellow eyes of the armored titan were looking down at her.

Taglist: @lainessia​

#aot x reader #aot reiner imagines #aot reiner imagine #AOT #snk #snk reiner #snk reiner imagine #snk reiner imagines #reiner #reiner braun #attack on titan reiner #snk x reader #reiner x reader #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun imagine #reiner braun imagines #snk imagines #snk imagine #aot imagines #aot imagine #tw: death