#Made the terrible decision to do the bad ending after getting the good one twice and I FULLY FORGOT Kamal showed up in that one

[poke-is-a-dork]

Bad ending

[mikavlcs]

Rebels and Renegades

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Summary: Becoming best friends with a sentient hand brings many much-needed changes to your life, the biggest being the very girl he arrived at Nevermore with.

Warnings: this is so stupid, reader is incredibly unserious, many attempts at comedy, TERRIBLE pacing, bad writing, cursing, this doesn’t correlate properly with the timeline of the show but idc

Word count: 6.6k (sorry, this got very out of hand...get it?)

Notes: this is trash but it’s fun so who cares. this is entirely for @clexa-is-forever aka thing’s biggest fan. despite my writer’s block, i still had fun writing this. hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

If someone told you at the beginning of the school year that your best friend would be a sentient disembodied limb, you would’ve laughed in their face.

Not because you thought it would be too ridiculous or nonsensical, but because in your mind, it was far too interesting for what Nevermore Academy had to offer.

See, you were initially excited to transfer to Nevermore. To get away from the shallow depths of normie public school and be around people like you. But alas, it was too good to be true—or, maybe, you had gotten your hopes up too high.

Because it turned out that fantastical mythical creatures like vampires, werewolves, and sirens actually weren’t too dissimilar from their normie counterparts. They didn’t care about excitement or adventure or fun, they cared about partying and drinking and dating.

This duality created an atmosphere of contradictions. There were people with literal snakes for hair but also those stupid cliques of popular kids that liked to pick on people for no reason. Werewolves transformed into energetic beasts and prowled the woods together every full moon, but students’ biggest concerns were whom they were gonna ask to the school dance.

It was all strange and supernatural yet shockingly normal. And extraordinarily boring.

The disappointment you felt upon this discovery was immeasurable. It appeared that no matter how far you ran, you could never escape the clutches of adolescent desires and drama.

But there was nowhere else for you to go. This was it, your parents told you that definitively. So you resigned yourself to your fate and settled into life at Nevermore.

Months passed at a snail’s pace. Around the middle of the semester, a new student transferred in. Because nothing of substance happens, she was the talk of the town for a solid two weeks before her scheduled arrival, but you didn’t care.

You would admit that after finally seeing her, your interest was piqued. She certainly fit the murderer vibe. With her pallid complexation and dark eyes, she looked straight out of a black & white horror film, even complete with a black uniform instead of the standard purple (which you were so jealous of).

Temptation pulled at your chest whenever you saw her, but you decided to leave her alone. This school had disappointed you enough, you weren’t sure how you’d be able to handle even more. The decision to keep your distance was made and instead, you let your imagination run wild without the probable barriers of reality to inhibit it. 

Little did you know that only one day after the new girl transferred in, she inadvertently changed the course of your life at Nevermore forever. 

Advanced Gorgon Sciences, your last class of the day, had just ended and you were wandering campus wondering what you were going to do with your free time. You were contemplating going into Jericho when something smacked your cheek.

Pausing, you glanced down and found the offending object to be a small pebble. You followed its rough trajectory up to a ledge on your left and saw something scurrying across it. Against, your nonexistent better judgment, you moved closer and…

You blinked once, then twice, narrowed your eyes.

It was a hand—literally just a hand, cut off at the wrist but still scuttling and scurrying around with no problem.

So, you were definitely losing your mind. Honestly, it was about damn time.

Having nothing better to do, you decided to lean into the madness and approach the hand. At the sound of your footsteps, it turned and…looked at you? You weren’t sure, but it acknowledged your presence with a friendly wave.

You waved back, a laugh bubbling up in your throat as you hoisted yourself up to sit on the ledge.

Once you were up, you saw that the hand was fiddling with a makeshift slingshot, struggling to simultaneously keep it upright while loading and aiming it. His plight was fairly obvious and considering his circumstance, you couldn’t help but feel for him.

Abandoning the slingshot, the hand crawled over to you and started tapping insistently. It took much more brain power than it ought to for you to realize that he was trying to speak to you.

“Sorry, I don’t understand…that,” you apologized with a grimace. But an idea came to mind a moment later. “Can you write?”

The hand gave you a thumbs up. You dug around your backpack and pulled out a notebook along with a pen, flipping it open to an empty page and slid it over, setting the pen down on top. He picked up the pen and got to work, pushing the notebook back toward you a minute later.

Curious, you looked at the messy scrawl below.

Sorry, was aiming for the guy behind you.

You nodded understandingly. “It’s fine. Could I ask why you’re launching pebbles at students?”

You waited once more as he scribbled his answer and peered down when he pushed the paper over.

For fun.

Again, you nodded. You could respect that.

“Well, do you mind if I join you?” you asked, nodding toward the slingshot. “I’d imagine it would be a lot easier to aim with an extra pair of hands. And the accompanying body,” you added awkwardly at the end, hoping it wouldn’t offend the little guy.

Thankfully it didn’t. He gave you an excited thumbs up, scuttling back over to the slingshot while you scooted over. While he loaded another pebble into the pouch, you scanned the area below for your next victim.

Your eye snagged on a vampire for no real reason other than the fact that he just kinda looked like an asshole.

You pointed to him below. “How about him?”

Thing gave you another thumbs up. Nodding, you held the slingshot in place while Thing drew the pebble back and let it fly.

The shriek that came from your victim almost made you blow your cover. You grabbed Thing and hurriedly crawled back to where you were both out of sight, barely containing your giggles. Once the coast was clear, you cracked, pitching forward with your laughter as Thing drummed his fingers against your arm in what you assumed was amusement.

“That was amazing!” You looked down at him, smirked. “Wanna do another one?”

He tapped your hand enthusiastically, making your smile widen.

Thus was the beginning of an amazing friendship. Well, amazing for you and Thing—not for the rest of Nevermore.

The two of you were a match made in hell. Together you brainstormed a plethora of good pranks to pull on unsuspecting students and teachers.

Putting spiders (fake or otherwise) in students’ lockers. Setting glitter traps on top of classroom doors so whichever unlucky soul walks through first gets showered in glitter. Slipping mentos into people’s sodas. Setting trip wires to watch people faceplant around campus and many more.

It was glorious. Your own personal reign of terror, even.

Principal Weems had her suspicions, but no matter how many times she tried to catch you in the act, you slipped through her fingers. And without proof, her hands were tied. So you and your companion were free to keep enjoying your schemes so long as you were discreet.

For the first time since you enrolled, days passed by in what felt like minutes, the personification of the saying time flies when you’re having fun.

Through it all, you often wondered where the little guy was when he wasn’t with you. You hoped that he wasn’t causing too much mischief without you. He was your partner in crime, after all.

Two weeks in, you decided to ask him at breakfast.

The two of you were at your usual table in the corner of the cafeteria. You were ranting about an upcoming Lycanthrope History test while Thing was launching the grapes you gave him to play with at nearby tables. After your rant, you finally gave in to your curiosity.

“So, what exactly are you doing at Nevermore? I know this place houses some strange students but, something tells me you’re not here to learn.”

He flicked a grape with precise aim, nailing a gorgon right on the forehead before giving you a series of taps. Your face scrunched in confusion.

“Babysitting? Babysitting who?”

Nothing could have prepared you for his answer.

“Wednesday Addams?!”

Your voice came out much louder than intended, turning a few heads around the cafeteria and making Thing jump. You didn’t care, plowing forward in your questioning.

“You’re ‘babysitting’ the school’s homicidal maniac?”

His stance straightened, his nonverbal tone somehow indignant as he corrected you.

You gave him a pointed look. “Attempted homicide isn’t much better, buddy.”

He seemed to contemplate flicking another grape, but seeing Miss Thornhill looking around, he chose not to. Instead, he drummed his fingers inquisitively at you, teasingly waggling his fingers at the end. You gave him another sharp look, insulted by his implication.

“Scared? What, no! This is amazing news,” you exclaimed. Then, an idea arose. “Hey, do you think she’d let us borrow any of her stuff for pranks?”

Thing mournfully shook his wrist. You let out a deep sigh, slumping over again. “Yeah, I guess I should’ve expected that answer.”

Wednesday didn’t really come up in conversation after that. You asked a few more times about her willingness to let you borrow her things, but after receiving the same answer, you gave up. Your paths had yet to cross, and you assumed that it would stay that way. But the universe seemed to have other plans.

The first time you formally met her was about a month after she transferred.

It was an appropriately cloudy day and you and Thing had just successfully completed a heist. You were in the Weathervane, both gushing over the fact that you had managed to steal fifteen scented lotions from Jericho’s local Bed, Bath & Body Works when a sharp voice interrupted you.

“So this is who you’ve been running off with these past few weeks.”

Both you and Thing flinched, looking up to see the Wednesday Addams staring down at you and your partner.

Offering a wave, you said, “Hey, Wednesday. Want a scented lotion?”

She ignored you completely. Her eyes barely scanned your figure before she was turning her full attention to Thing, her arms crossing over her chest in vindication.

“I knew you had to have an accomplice. You’re nowhere near nimble enough to properly set a trip wire by yourself.”

Thing slumped, obviously disheartened by the statement, but before you could defend his honor, your mind caught on something else.

“Wait…” You looked over at Thing, offended. “Have you been taking full credit for our pranks this entire time?”

Sheepish, Thing bowed, giving your hand an apologetic pat. You moved it away, crossing your own arms over your chest.

“Since this is your first offense, I’ll forgive you. But do it again and I’m keeping all of the profits from our future heists, got it?”

Thing jumped in alarm, tapping urgently. You smiled. “Good.”

Wednesday looked between you both, clearly unimpressed. You decided to take your shot again.

“You know, the lotion offer still stands.” You rifled through the lotions, taking note of their scents, and glanced back up with an apologetic look. “Though, we don’t have one that smells like stage 4 human decomposition, sorry.”

Again, she just stared blankly. You swore you saw her eye twitch but still, she said nothing and glared at Thing.

“Be back at the dorm by 7.”

With that, she turned and marched out of the café, leaving everyone in her path to fearfully stumble out of her way. Both of you watched, rapt, as she slammed the café door open and nearly nailed an approaching customer in the face.

Once she was out of sight, you turned to Thing. “Y’know, I think that went well, buddy.”

Thing said nothing.

You thought that would be the end of it, and honestly, you would’ve been fine if it had been. You made a good first impression and she now knew you existed. A double win!

But again, it seemed that someone had other plans—though this time it wasn’t the universe, but Thing.

Now that you and Wednesday had been semi-acquainted, Thing began inviting you to their dorm for hangouts frequently (because it was “his dorm too” …you didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise). This set a few things in motion.

First, you met Wednesday’s roommate, Enid.

Enid was nice. A little hyper, like she was on a permanent sugar rush, but sweet, nonetheless. She gave you free manicures and skincare advice, and even let you borrow some things for pranks, so you hadn’t a single bad thing to say about her.

Second, you found out that you were very bad at scaling buildings.

Due to both curfew and Wednesday’s usual disapproval of your presence, Thing insisted on smuggling you in. By throwing a rope down to your balcony for you to climb. And…let’s just say that it’s a miracle you even survived the first time.

And finally, most importantly, you and Wednesday began to grow closer.

Only by about a centimeter, but progress was progress. And through sheer willpower and repeated exposure, you wormed your way into the tolerance stage, which is farther than most people who came into contact with Wednesday got, so you were proud.

She wasn’t warmer per se, but the sight of you in her dorm was no longer met with a throwing knife, just a death glare and some tentative (mostly one-sided) conversation if she was in a good mood. It was a big win.

Now that she wasn’t orchestrating any attempts on your life, you grew…not protective, but defensive of her, and Enid for that matter. Enid was your friend and Wednesday was…Wednesday. Willingly or not, they were part of your small circle.

So when a werewolf insulted Wednesday right to her face the day before the Poe Cup, well who could blame you for getting a little revenge?

You overheard him call Wednesday a frigid bitch, and he was right, but he didn’t have to say it like it was a bad thing. In retaliation, you and Thing gave him a special surprise involving shampoo and some of Enid’s hair dye that you were very excited to see the next day.

And it didn’t disappoint. Seeing the flash of bright pink amongst the Furs, and a matching flush of embarrassment that was nearly the same color was the highlight of your day.

At least it was until the Black Cats emerged from their tents.

Given your positioning, you were only able to see them once they started climbing into their canoe, and needless to say that the team’s roster shocked you. There were a few girls you didn’t recognize up front, then Enid and, as her co-pilot in the back, Wednesday.

Your jaw dropped. Because not only was she competing in the competition, but she was also wearing a skintight black catsuit, complete with ears and a tail.

The laugh you let out was so loud that it startled the surrounding crowd. You felt something poking your leg, and looking down, you found Thing standing by your feet. You bent down, glancing over to the Black Cat’s boat.

“Hey, you helping out Wednesday and Enid?”

He bowed in confirmation. Nodding, you stuck out a hand.

“Punch at least one siren for me, alright bud?”

He shook your hand firmly, a promise to fulfill your wish, and crawled off to the boat.

The event itself was rather dull. With the way Enid explained it, you were expecting something a bit more grandiose, but in reality, it was just standing around and watching for boats. Boring.

But hey, it gave you a half-day of classes, so who were you to complain?

The results though, were much more interesting.

For the first time in decades, the trophy went to Ophelia Hall. You were happy, not because you had any buried school spirit, but because you knew how much Enid wanted this. Seeing the fish get knocked down a peg was a nice bonus.

Afterward, you pushed through the crowd to try and find Enid so you could personally congratulate her, but before you could spot her, you bumped into her co-pilot. Literally.

Blindly, you steadied the smaller girl by the shoulders, a sorry on the tip of your tongue, but it got swallowed down as you were crudely reminded of her current state of dress. You tore your eyes from her outfit and dropped your hands back to your side, meeting her glare with what you prayed was a straight face.

“Hey, Wends. Congrats on the win! Love the outfit by the way,” you said, trying your absolute hardest not to crack a smile. The large ears were making that exceptionally hard, however.

She scowled. “Don’t call me that and for your information, I was forced to wear this.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to say anything without laughing. Thankfully, it seemed Wednesday wasn’t finished speaking anyway.

“I noticed that werewolf’s hair is now a rather putrid shade of pink,” she said. “Did you perhaps have something to do with that?”

Once again, you found yourself unsuccessfully fighting off a smile. “I can neither confirm nor deny your suspicions. But it suits him, don’t you think?”

Before she could respond, a soaking wet Thing pulled on your pant leg and excitedly began recounting what happened. You bent down again, nodding along with his story, and beamed at him once he finished.

“Right in the eye?” you reiterated, and Thing confirmed. “That’s awesome. I knew I could count on you.” You gave him a quick high five then scooped him up, drying him off on your uniform and setting him on your shoulder.

You stood back up and saw that Wednesday was still there, staring at you so intently that you were sure she was somehow looking straight through you.

Cocking your head to the side, you went to ask if she was alright, but that must’ve knocked her from her stupor because, without another word, she spun on her heel and walked off, leaving you to stare at the spot she just occupied, thoroughly bewildered.

“That was weird,” you commented. Thing gave an agreeing pat.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t question her about it since you didn’t get the chance to speak with her again until exactly three days later.

It was just after dinner. Thing invited you over to help prepare a new scheme, and who were you to say no to the little guy?

Enid was visiting Yoko in the infirmary and Wednesday was nowhere to be seen, so it was just you and Thing, sitting by the window hard at work.

You tied the water balloon in your hand and held it in front of you, giving it a contemplative look. “You’re sure these will only give them bad rashes, right?”

The only response you received was a shrug, which was good enough for you, so you picked up the next one and got to filling it up. Not one to work in silence, you voiced a thought you’d been holding in for a while.

“So, do you breathe? Like, would be able to drown if you stayed under the water for too long?”

Thing shook his wrist matter of factly. You gasped.

“That’s so cool.” The flustered thuds you heard after made you chuckle.

Satisfied, you went back to filling balloons, but your head popped up only a minute later, another burning question on your mind. “If you can’t eat or drink, then what physically sustains you to keep you alive?”

Without missing a beat, Thing tapped out his answer.

“The misery of others?” You snorted. “Yeah, I guess that tracks.”

Conversation lapsed into quiet as you both focused on your tasks, and your mind wandered.

You wondered where Wednesday was. The hour just after dinner was her designated writing hour, and it was very unusual for her to be missing it.

You hoped that she’d be back soon, even if she only glared at you the rest of the night. Just seeing her would be enough to satisfy you.

Because in a somewhat cruel twist of irony, you were now falling victim to the very same feelings you mocked others for getting caught up in, and even more brutal was the fact that you didn’t mind all too much. Mostly because it was Wednesday.

Now, you were no poet or writer. You weren’t going to wax poetic and spew a thousand grandiose metaphors about how her eyes resembled that of a starless sky, no.

Wednesday was really pretty and genuinely interesting, and she looked at you like a predator wanting to tear apart its prey. And really, that’s all it took for you to dive right off that cliff’s edge into infatuation.

There was a certain excitement in knowing that she could dismember you with surgical precision if you ever went just a little too far, an irresistible thrill to be found in constantly toeing that line. Like walking a tightrope with life and death teetering on a knife’s edge—the perfect counterbalance to the endless loop of monotonous boredom your life had seemingly fallen into before her and Thing’s arrival.

The sound of the door opening interrupted your train of thought, and you whipped your head just in time to see Wednesday stride in with a book cradled in her arms and her usual annoyed expression adorning her features.

You perked up, and out the corner of your eye, you saw Thing do the same.

“Hey! How’s Nevermore’s resident tiny terror doing today?”

“Call me that again and I will disembowel you,” came her cheerful reply. You snorted.

“Uh-huh.” You finished tying the last balloon and looked back up, seeing Wednesday eyeing your prep work with distaste.

“Are those water balloons?” she asked, clearly unimpressed.

“Yep. They’re filled with holy water so we can throw them at the vampires who were teasing Enid last week for not being able to shift.” You grinned. Wednesday’s eyes widened a fraction.

“That’s insane,” she commented. Then after a beat, “Make sure to film it on your cellular device so I can watch as well.

“Of course,” you assured her, giving a dramatic bow as well. She rolled her eyes, and you watched her resign to her desk. Unable to contain your curiosity, you piped back up, “So what took you so long? I was expecting you to come in and kick me out hours ago.”

Her reply was instantaneous. “I discovered a secret passageway in the school, committed theft, and became the target of an attempted kidnapping.”

A twinge of jealousy pierced your gut. How come she always got to do the fun stuff? You quickly shook it off, focusing on the first thing she said.

“A secret passageway?” you asked, already thinking of ways to possibly utilize the space for you and Thing.

“Yes, I solved a riddle and uncovered a passageway hidden behind the Edgar Allen Poe statue in the quad.”

The Edgar Allen Poe statue… Recognition sparked, and the pieces slotted together, some of your prior jealousy abating.

“Ohh, you got kidnapped in the Nightshade’s Library?”

Finally, she looked at you, gaze so sharp it could’ve cut you in two. “How do you know about that?”

You and Thing shared an unsubtle sideways glance.

“Uh—”

“So what fingers do you do it with? Thumb and ring finger or thumb and middle finger?”

The pressing question was delivered in a whisper. It was late—at least an hour after lights out, but Thing promised to teach you how to snap before he left for his dorm.

So to avoid being caught, you and the appendage were tucked into the corner of a small hall that branched off from the quad. You were hunched against a tall Edgar Allen Poe statue while your companion stood next to you.

Thing waggled his fingers and pointedly put his thumb against his middle finger. You nodded and copied his movements, rubbing the fingers together to get a feel for it.

“So I just…”

You pressed the fingers together and made the snapping motion a few times in quick succession, beaming up at him when you managed to produce a few low sounds.

Suddenly, a deep rumble emanated from the ground beneath you as the statue you were seated on began to shift. You leapt to your feet, quickly grabbing Thing and placing him on your shoulder. You both watched, baffled, as the statue moved to reveal a long winding staircase.

Taking in a breath, you shared a look with Thing then looked back to the open pathway.

“Holy shit!”

“No reason,” you said far too quickly to be believable. Before she could question you further, you cleared your throat and moved on. “Did you have fun?”

“No. They were imbeciles that didn’t even know the basics of the art of abduction. It was pitiful.”

You frowned. “Oh. Sorry about that. I hope the next one is better.”

Wednesday shot you a strange look, studying you carefully before mumbling out a barely audible thank you, and turning back to her desk.

Since you were finished with the balloons, you slumped back against the window. There was nothing to do, so you couldn’t be blamed for the way your eyes drifted back to Wednesday’s hunched form. Nosiness tugged at you. You wanted to know more about what she stole and why, and a glance at Thing told you that he did too.

Extending your arm for him to climb, you waited until he rested securely on your shoulder before heading to Wednesday’s desk to see what she was up to.

Lying flat on the wood before her was the book, opened to an illustration. On the left page was what looked to be a pilgrim extending a staff toward the figure on the right, who somewhat resembled Wednesday. You squinted. Scratch that, the girl on the right looked exactly like Wednesday.

“Is this what you stole?”

“Yes, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t look over my shoulder like that.”

Her words went in one ear and out the other, your mind too busy trying to decipher the meaning of the drawing to actually listen. Finally, the identity of the mystery pilgrim clicked, and you asked, “Why’d someone draw you in a picture with Crackstone?”

Her head whipped over to you, all complaints of you being there gone. “You know who this is?”

“Yeah,” you answered, “Joseph Crackstone. He’s like, Jericho’s chief colonizer. Founded the whole town or something.”

She didn’t respond, seeming to take in the information, but you didn’t want the conversation to die quite yet, so you carried on.

“Outreach Day is next week, are you excited? I, for one, am pumped to do menial work for no pay.”

“No, I’m not,” she said, then appeared to rethink her answer. “Actually yes, but not because of the forced child labor. I already have plans to further my investigation in Jericho.”

You perked up, leaning forward to try and catch her eyes. “Can I come?”

She didn’t even bother looking back at you when she answered, hard and firm.

“No.”

-

“Thanks for letting me come along, Wends!”

Wednesday clenched her jaw, expelling a sharp breath through her nose. This was the third time you’d said that in the past four hours, and while she was able to ignore the other two, the addition of that stupid nickname made holding herself back a third time impossible.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that? And you’re only here because someone,” she sent Thing a murderous glare, “refused to cooperate without your agonizing presence.”

Your eyes widened, darting over to the hand resting on your shoulder. “Really?”

Thing gave a shy wave. A wide smile spread across your cheeks in response.

“Well thanks for advocating for me, bud. It means a lot,” you said with a hand over your heart, sounding far too cheerful for someone that just chased a dangerous monster.

Wednesday didn’t bother dignifying you with any more responses, turning back to the woods ahead. But that got her thinking.

Why had she let you come anyways?

There was no good reason that came to mind. You were insufferable. The human embodiment of vexation and foolishness and petulance. You were, in essence, all the traits she disliked in the general human race given physical form.

And yet, she had allowed you to come along.

Yes, Thing asked her time and time again to permit your presence, but instead of threatening his life like she should have done, she gave in with the silent promise of revenge.

It made no sense. You pushed boundaries, disobeyed orders, and disregarded her threats and insults with a garish smile like they were no more than a joke heard in passing.

And only now did she realize that she found it far less irritating than she did when she first met you.

The answer to why was unclear, but Wednesday wasn’t sure if that was because she was genuinely unsure of the reasoning behind her decision or because she didn’t want to figure it out.

Your annoying voice thankfully halted her mind’s trajectory.

“Of course, you’re my favorite Addams. You’re my best friend, the only other five-fingered appendage I’ll ever need in my life. Plus, Wednesday hates me so there’s no competition.”

Wednesday was once again stunned by the inane conversations you and Thing have on a daily basis. Some of the talks she’d overheard in the past months could be unironically described as mind-numbing.

Deciding to have some fun to pass the time, she turned to fully face you, running her eyes over your form before speaking.

“I don’t hate you.”

She watched your eyes go wide and you looked at her with some odd form of hope. The corners of her lips twitched.

“I despise you. There’s a difference.”

Your head dropped exaggeratedly, but when you looked up again there was a smile on your face, making any notion of hers disappear.

She couldn’t stand that—the way you were never put off by anything she had to say.

Enid had the same tendency to shrug off her threats, but even she was unnerved when she first met Wednesday. But not you. Wednesday couldn’t think of a single time when anything she said, threat or otherwise, made you uncomfortable or fearful, and there was seldom anything that got under her skin more.

“That was mean, Wednesday. Really mean.” She noticed Thing say something on your shoulder and you gave a playful gasp in response. “Don’t laugh, Thing. That wasn’t funny,” you said, even though you were giggling yourself.

At the sight and sound of your laughter, something strange happened. Something combusted within her, and the flames spread, licking her sternum with an uncomfortable intensity. Like someone crudely lit a match and let it fall inside of her chest, allowing the fire to wreak havoc on her insides. It was unpleasant.

Even more unpleasant was the knowledge that this was not the first time this had happened. And that was but another in the long list of reasons why she shouldn’t have permitted your presence today.

She faced forward abruptly and kept walking, but you entered her peripheral moments later, no doubt ready to bother her with something.

As always, she was proven correct. “Hey, so you said that Crackstone was in that vision with your ancestor, right? And he killed a bunch of outcasts?”

“Correct.”

That mischievous smile she had come to recognize spread across your face, pulling your lips up at a slightly uneven angle.

“What do you say we get a little revenge?”

“And how exactly do you propose we get revenge on a pilgrim that died centuries ago?” she inquired skeptically.

You hummed. “Undecided but you go on ahead and just let the masterminds cook for a bit. I promise we’ll come up with something great.”

You and Thing flashed her a simultaneous thumbs-up, to which she just blinked. Not needing to be told twice, she started walking again, leaving you both to linger behind. Once there was a sufficient distance between you and her, she slowed slightly.

Though she had just made a vital discovery for her case, she figured this brief period of quiet would be better spent unpacking that persistent internal conflagration that flared whenever you were near.

Deigning to use her tried and true investigative process, she tried to start from the beginning, to gather all the information she had and prepare it for analysis, but she immediately got lost because truthfully, she couldn’t pinpoint the start of your assimilation into her daily routine.

Her…acquaintanceship with you made little sense, even to her. Especially to her. The same could also be said about her budding friendship? with Enid, but that was easier to parse.

Enid was her roommate; someone she quite literally couldn’t avoid since they lived together. But you weren’t. You were Thing’s friend, sure, but that didn’t answer the question of why Wednesday was becoming entangled with you as well.

However, looking at it from a logical perspective, it somewhat made sense.

A mutual penchant for mischief and practical jokes is what drew you and Thing together. In that same vein, she supposed that your insatiable appetite for adventure and her unquenchable thirst for triumph put you both on a collision course that neither of you could prevent. Especially in such a creatively stagnant climate as Nevermore.

A rebel and a renegade—two of a kind. You understood her and, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she understood you.

She just didn’t know how to interpret the unexpected side effects that came with that mutual understanding.

(That was a lie, she realized. Somewhere deep down she knew, but she didn’t want it to mean what she thought it might. After all, she couldn’t possibly be letting someone like you turn her into an apostate to her own beliefs and morals…right?

She thought back to what she said to her mother on her first day, how hypocritical her words looked in the face of this dilemma. God, how pitiful of a circumstance she found herself in.)

Either way, Wednesday had allowed the sparks to ignite, and she knew that any chance she had of tempering the subsequent wildfire it caused was lessening with every moment she knowingly spent with you in her space.

Part of her didn’t want to anyway.

Approaching voices behind her caught her attention. Focusing on the present once more, she listened in.

“That’s an awesome idea, right?” she heard you say lowly.

Wednesday rolled her eyes. Everything was either cool, awesome, or amazing to you. She desperately needed to expand your vocabulary if you were going to be sticking around. For her sanity.

Wet footsteps neared, and you ran ahead of Wednesday, turning to face her with a demeanor resembling that of an excitable puppy. She sped up her pace, but you matched it, even while walking backward.

“Ok, Wednesday, plan secured. You know what I need?”

“A thesaurus?”

You blinked, brows furrowed, then shrugged. “Yeah, probably but I was actually gonna say that I need gasoline, and matches.”

“Well, there’s a hardware store a block down from the Weathervane, you could get gasoline from there. I have the matches covered.”

“Oh?” Your eyebrow quirked, a grin appearing along with it. “You have matches on you?”

“Of course. I carry a box with me everywhere I go.”

Your smile widened.

Wednesday ignored the flames ravaging her organs and asked, “Are you going to tell me what this ‘plan’ is?”

“And ruin the surprise? No. All I’m gonna say is that you should have another song prepared for the unveiling.”

She narrowly avoided rolling her eyes again. Given the materials you needed, Wednesday had a good idea of what you were planning anyway, and thankfully, she had just the song in mind.

The three of you parted ways as you reentered the town proper, you and Thing running off to gather supplies, and Wednesday, after handing her matches over, headed into the square to prepare her cello.

Unsurprisingly, she was the first person there. She sat in the seat by her cello, languidly checking its strings more out of a need for something to do than because she needed to. Her cello was always perfectly tuned.

It didn’t take very long for you to follow, running into the square with a canister of gasoline and a bag of what looked to be gunpowder. She heard a low “let’s blow this fucker back to hell, Thing” before you split up, Thing pouring the gasoline in the base of the statue while you created a trail of black powder from the statue to behind the bleachers.

Wednesday watched you, the familiar feeling of being proven right tugging her lips upward. If nothing else, your flair for the dramatic was commendable.

You both finished and took refuge behind the bleachers just as people started filing in for the ceremony. As the normie high school band set up behind her, she took note of how nobody looked particularly enthused to be here (besides Enid, who would somehow find a way to be excited to watch paint dry).  

Soon, the ceremony was underway, and it was as underwhelming as Wednesday expected it to be. Just a plethora of fake smiles, stale claps, and off-key notes from the laughingstock of a “band” performing with her.

An explosion might not even be enough to resuscitate the audience at this point.

Once the fountain was turned on, Wednesday sent a sideways glance to you and you nodded, signaling something to Thing on the ground below. A trail of smoke and the telltale sound of burning gunpowder followed and Wednesday felt her dead heart begin to pick up pace at the thought of the coming anarchy.

Finally, the looming bronze figure burst into a brilliant ball of flame, the sound of the blast washing away the wretched off-key notes of the incompetent band behind her.

As the panic began to set in, her fingers moved on their own, relishing the familiar feel of the aching, discordant cords of Vivaldi’s Winter.

In moments, Jericho’s empty streets were flooded with people running in terror as sirens wailed in the distance. The harmonious screams that erupted from both outcasts and normies alike were almost more pleasant to her ears than the song that she was playing.

Principal Weems glared at her from afar, eyes narrowed in brewing suspicion, and Wednesday stared right back, lips coiling into a poisonous smile.

Tearing her eyes away from the principal, she peered through the haze of the smoke toward the bleachers. You were watching her with wide, awestruck eyes and a smile. You only looked away briefly to give Thing a fist bump before turning back toward her, but her gaze never faltered from you. Even with all of the glorious chaos happening around her.

That horrible, detestable feeling in her chest returned with a vengeance, blazing brighter than the raging fire to her right. But in this moment, she welcomed it, let it fuel her as the music reached its climax.

As the warm orange glow of the flames reflected off the raw excitement and amazement in your eyes and her treacherous song came to its end, Wednesday recognized that perhaps neither hatred nor disdain was quite the right word to describe how she felt for you after all.

And perhaps becoming a heretic and a hypocrite wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world after all (though it would certainly be close). 

[canonmisogynyvictimstournament]

PROPAGANDA

ALLURA (VOLTRON: LEGENDARY DEFENDER)

1.) Okay so, they really wanted Allura to be a #girlpower icon, but the way that came about is that they basically stripped her from having emotions. She only cries once in the whole show, and it was in the first season (when the show was actually good.) After her one cry she basically becomes a leader figure who doesn’t get to bond much with the other characters. They then decided to pass her around as a romantic interest to three different men. The first one was only set up, but she ends up dating two of them within the show’s short run. The second character they set her up with turns out to have enslaved her people. The third character they set her up with has been shown to be interested in her through the shows run. Despite Allura’s consistent lack of interest, she ends up being pressured into going on a date with him. Despite it being a terrible date (in my opinion) they decide to peruse a relationship. The relationship is terrible and they really only spend time together to rant about their problems. At the end of the season, the very same one where this relationship started, Allura sacrifices herself to save the universe. This stupid fucking decision not only came out of nowhere in terms of in-universe logic, but also that her death is treated as sad because the guy lost his girlfriend. Most of the other characters don’t really morn her, and the guy she was dating just becomes sadly obsessed with the idea of her for the rest of his life. Not really the nice send-off for the #girlboss.

2.) She was given plenty character, but not a lot of things to do narratively speaking.

She wanted to free the Galaxy from tyranny. She's the leader even though she doesn't pilot the black lion. She's can talk to mice. She's kind, and she's among the the last of her kind. Her home planet was destroyed. She kept going even when things looked horrendous. She had to wait 10,000 in stasis sleep before she could fight to protect others. Because her father wanted to protect her and made the wrong decision in not fighting the Galra with Voltron. She had to destroy the AI of her father when he was corrupted in season 1. She had to deal with her Dad dying twice.

She had cool powers like shapeshifting but didn't get to use them often. She starts piloting the blue lion, at season 3. Her father worked with the big bad Zarkon and she is portrayed just to hate him. When it was more like she was completely betrayed by him.

She didn't get alot of interactions with the other cool female characters. Even Pidge who was on her team, which can only form Voltron through teamwork. 8 seasons and they never talk about how how much they miss their families. Pidge's main motivation is finding her father and brother. It would have been perfect. The only time they hangout is to get Allura ready for a date.

She was distrusting of all Galra since there empire wiped out her kingdom. But when she got an arc about learning to not distrust all Galra. It functionally ended with Prince Lotor of the Galra making people batteries out of the survivor's of her kingdom.

Then she was basically relegated to her relationship with Lance's interaction wise. She didn't get many interactions with anyone else she was close to in the season she died. Not even with Coran, the guy put in stasis with her.

For the finale she dies sacrificing herself to restore all realites. She had to give up her new family and her people. She would do that, I just don't think the writers had earned doing that. She deserved a happy ending. She never gets to see that her sacrifice even brought back her planet.

3.) season 8. Season 8. SEASON 8. Allura deserved so much better than an out of nowhere romance arc with Lance and then dying without being able to say goodbye to Coran (her royal advisor, closest friend, and last remaining member of her family and her planet). AND they had her give Altean marks to Lance right before dying, leaving him with a constant reminder of her for the rest of his life!! Why!!!!!!!!! AND THEN THE LIONS FLY BACK INTO SPACE TOWARDS A NEBULA SHAPED LIKE HER, LIKE THE WHOLE FINALE WAS SATISFYING AND NOT A MASTERCLASS IN UNSATISFYING CHARACTER ENDINGS!!!!!! Allura you will always be the confident princess and leader of the rebellion in my heart i am so so sorry season 8 happened to you

MIKAELA BANES (TRANSFORMERS)

1.) mikaela's case is so egregious that i struggle to really properly word any propaganda beyond 'just look at the movie. look at it.' but congrats to mikaela banes for getting in! was thinking of submitting her along with my arcee but couldn't even like. begin to describe it. agh.

best i can really say for her right now is 'open her tfwiki article, open sam's, look at the pictures, compare how they frame the two, you will see what i mean then and there.' but i might do a rewatch of the bayverse transformers movies just to be able to get all my more complex thoughts in order to actually submit a breakdown of her. which is not something i want to do, but if anyone deserves it it's mikaela. she deserved so much better.

2.) She was the female character played by Megan Fox, and Michael Bay wanted to make sure everyone watching knew this was a woman played by megan fox. She is the quintessential "not like other girls" (in fact, this is the second sentence of her wikipedia page - "She is differentiated from "typical" women in her age group, having inherited mechanical skills from her father") who has guy interests, but is still hot and wears crop tops and jean shorts. I remember two things from that movie, Bumblebee and the scene where she is working on the car ~sexily~, which today genuinely seems like a parody, but was included entirely earnestly (I wasn't going to add a picture from this scene, but it was literally the first and third pictures that showed up when i googled her)

3.) Mikaela is so sexualized it's unreal. Like, I feel I really just need to submit this screenshot:

Look at the way she's posed, the way she's dressed, the fact her head isn't in the shot. It's pure objectification, like the kind that should be in textbooks as easy examples. The way it emphasizes both her butt and her boobs but also shows her stomach is just astonishing. God it doesn't even show her FACE. This shot really amazes me, just good god.

And then there's also this famous shot:

It's so aggressively sexy, so much a pose and not at all a way a real human would position themselves. The way her ass is popped out, the way her hair is flipped, jesus christ. Someone needs to put Michael Bay in misogyny jail.

[avianreptiles]

I do not know much about your ocs!! Can I get a rundown on em?

Absolute quickest rundown I can do like Absolutely ever (its still long, but any shorter, I'd be leaving out wayyyy too many details):

Tw some death and suicide

Us falls apart and shatters into mannnyyyy countries, two of which being The United States of Albany and the Republic of Massachusetts. These two hate eachother. So much so that Albany declared war on Massachusetts not once but twice. Cue some jackass named Kendrick who lived in Albany. His mom died in a car crash when he was 12 in a very gruesome way, but he and his father had a good ish relationship until he got to the 2nd half of his first year at college where he plummeted academically and never recovered. He dropped out of college, took up drinking and smoking pot, and ended up getting a beer bottle shattered over his head when he attacked his father (going really fast through this, but so much happens here that I'm still not even through it on the lore doc). Same night as beer bottle incident, he found out he got drafted to the military.

Fun. Anyways the military sucked the life out of him, so much so that he was never 100% himself even after getting out of the military. During his time in the military he racked up a name for himself (negative) and ended up being known as one of the most dangerous men in New England. Fun. Anyways he eventually figured out that maybbeee the war was bad and got damn near almost killed (this will happen 3 or 4 more times) for going AWOL. Gets the bright idea to just. Switch sides. So he does.

Switching sides was horrifyingly easy. Because Boston (because the Republic of Massachusetts collapsed like a year or two prior) was getting its ass kicked in the war, there was a lot of weak points in the military and Kenny ended up getting the title as "Commander" of one of the "armies." The structure of military was being held together by a toothpick and Kenny had to basically reform a military that he had helped collapse not even that long ago, making many enemies in the Boston government that thrived on the newly given power handed over by the weak military. One of these enemies would be Juniper Barron who will be important later.

JAY. OKAY. So Jay is someone who noticed Kenny join the military and instantly went "yup, that's certainly my crush right there" and the two of them got very familiar with eachother. I am going to criticize this guys actions right now. It was a bad idea to do that. Kenny didn't really want to give up the fact that he was infact an ex-albany soldier. So he didn't. If the following shit had not happened, there is a good chance Kenny could've kept this secret for decades.

At some point, about 4 years into being a Bostonian soldier, he ended up getting in a car wreck that basically killed the front two passengers, leaving him and some kid under his command, Colten, coincidentally Jay's cousin. So they're both properly stuck in the middle of fucking no where Massachusetts and to make matters worse, Kendrick was seriously injured to the point where half of his lower face got ripped off. Terrible. Oh well. They ended up getting by for a couple days before the unit that Kendrick had been in prior in the Albany armor caught them and after some elaborate fight he ended up getting stabbed. Being in the middle of nowhere, Kendrick was pretty damn content with dying out there, to Colten's horror, and had no real backup plan to if he lived. He lived. Help arrived last minute and he lived.

After coming out of that alive, he had to basically explain to the military that he was infact an ex-albany soldier, and after LOTS OF FIGHTING between higher ups, when it eventually came down to Jay whether or not Kendrick was allowed to remain as commander, Jay made (A decision I will criticize) the decision to allow him to continue. It ended up being a good decision, but it came with its criticisms. I will go ahead and say that Jay was thinking with his dick.

After a little bit, Kenny and Jay ended up getting technically unofficially married, but they just loved eachother too much.

Anyways Juniper Barron needs this guy out of the military, like stat. She comes up with this whole elaborate plan to place some guy named Luell under Kenny's command, and have Luell just assassinate him, which ends up working for the most part, but Luell overlooked 1 crucial bit of the plan, that was making sure that Kenny was actually dead. Kenny mauled that man alive. Anyways

That didn't work so Juniper just decided to full on coup d'etat the fucking government and ordered all of the people under Kenny's command to be arrested, along with him. Kenny and his unit were very tightly knit. Cue Kenny having to be muzzled cuz he took out a chunk of someone's arm in what I imagine sounds very homosexual to whoever's reading this. Juniper Barron, with everyone that she needed under arrest, under arrest, singles out two people of the unit to see if she can get anything out them, information wise. Upon getting nothing, she threatened one and the other kicked the shelf next to her, sending a gardening tool on the top shelf to cleave through her neck, killing her. Juniper's coup d'etat failed and the military part of the gov gained a little more power than before.

He's still pretty solid with Jay, and they still love eachother. Jay notices somethings off but brushes past it. Kenny's livelihood was centered in the war, it was all he had known for years. The closeness with those under his command was the only closeness he had, as he thought his only relative in Albany, his dad, had died years prior.

Cue a little bit of peace time and all of a sudden, very important member under Kenny's command is killed during a mission. It couldn't have been a stray round, and the entire unit was shocked. Kenny took this to heart and subconsciously blamed himself. A couple of weeks later, the best friend of the one that was killed put a round in his foot to get out of service. He ended up having to amputate the leg later on.

Down two crucial members, Kenny is just fucking plagguueeeddd by the memories of what he did years prior as an Albany soldier. Absolutely losing it. He took up drinking again around this point.

That unit he was in back in Albany? Came back. He ended up having to fight them on his own like a guy in a gladiator fight against a pride of lions. By the time they're all dead, he's straight up not having a good time. He put to rest the unit that ruined his life, making sure that it would never be in operation again, but he just felt immense guilt about what he did during his time in the unit. Around this time, in the back of his head, he started to just consider suicide as an option. He would not be a normal functioning member of society after what he did and what he experienced.

Not long after that, he ended up getting seriously injured again to the point where he had 5 years max to live. The injury severely stunted his physical activity, and to someone who based their entire ego on the ability to fight back, it was possibly the worst thing to happen to someone. If he continued with the fast-paced, physical activity that he had done for about 10 years at that point, his heart would give out in months. It was a death sentence. If he couldn't go out and fight, the only thing that he thought was his purpose in life, then by God did he have no life. The war had come to a conclusion by then, with Boston victorious.

After getting into an argument with Jay, he was finally given the ultimatum, that the military was going to discharge him, and that his time was up. After a bit of back and forth screaming, Jay walked away. Jay at this point couldn't argue either a deadman.

The next morning, Kenny shot himself. It was not a shock to those that saw it coming, but it was a deeply sad and unfortunate loss to those that Kenny knew.

Eventually the military managed to track down Kenny's dad, who was alive in Albany, and presented him with the fact that his son died a Bostonian hero. While Jay never got over Kenny, he eventually made peace with himself. Jay was not to blame for his death, if anything, it was the government of Albany that was to blame. Kenny was a deeply mentally ill kid allowed to kill, without little short term consequences, and when the long term consequences arrived at his doorstep, he couldn't come to terms with the fact that he was a murderer. Kenny was given options to dodge the military draft from the beginning and chose the cowardly option of fighting for a war that he thought was wrong.

Kenny was not a hero, he was a goddamn tragedy.

Another TDLR: mentally ill college dropout became a mass murderer for a corrupt gov and paid the price with his life a decade later when the horrors of what he did came to bite him in the ass

Anyways if you send me an ask about him I'll suck you off

[taexual]

monsta x / fake dating

warning: bullet points because it’s the only thing stopping me from writing 7 full-length fics. these are still long, though. lower-case intended.

requested by @sweeticeream​​.

↣ shownu

frankly, you probably didn’t know hyunwoo well enough to ask him this, but he was the only guy friend you had (even if you only knew him for a little less than 4 months)

when you brought the idea of fake-dating up to him, he was very ?? about it

why don’t you just date someone (him) for real?

you regretted bringing this up as soon as you saw the confusion in his eyes

so you went into a whole frenzy, trying to justify your decision to fake-date, all so you wouldn’t come off as crazy as you felt

and after you started to explain it more, he got far too lost in the passion in your eyes, so he just said yes

sure, he’ll pretend to be your date to this family event in exchange for good food and great company

which meant home-made dishes and an endless stream of grandmothers, exclaiming “who’s this handsome young man?!” whenever he walked into the room with you

it was a nice ego boost and he got to hold your hand the whole night, which was nice, too (because you had soft skin, that’s all, no other reason whatsoever)

you weren’t worried about what would happen once the night ended because your family only got together once every decade

but by a stroke of disaster, four of your cousins (some of them twice removed; you’d never even seen them before tonight) announced they were getting married later this year

and, of course, they hoped you and hyunwoo would come to the wedding

the two of you smiled and nodded and acted in love

but as soon as the night ended, you told hyunwoo he didn’t have to come to any other event with you

there was only so much food you could bribe him with before you started to feel awful for dragging him here

but hyunwoo gave you a look and replied, completely seriously, “i don’t know what you’re talking about, i had a nice time tonight. your family’s great.”

that definitely made you feel less terrible when you asked him, “so you wouldn’t mind going to one of those weddings with me as my fake-boyfriend?”

you laughed as you said it, trying to make it seem more like a joke than a serious suggestion, so he wouldn’t feel bad about having to turn you down

but hyunwoo didn’t feel bad in the slightest when he said, “oh, no. i would mind.”

so, that was that, then

“oh, well, it’s okay. i told you, you don’t have to go with me—”

“i want to go with you as your actual boyfriend.”

yeah, fuck it. he may not have been able to look at you as he said it, but he didn’t really see a point to fake-date you when really dating you seemed like a much better alternative

↣ wonho

it was supposed to be mutually beneficial for you both

a classic let’s-pretend-to-date-to-make-our-exes-jealous plot

and then somewhere along the way, hoseok kind of forgot that this was supposed to be all pretend?

he’d keep on holding your hand even when it was just you two in the room

or he’d still kiss your cheek when he stood up from the couch to grab something, even though there was no one to prove a point to

and okay, at first, you didn’t realize there was anything wrong with that

but then you ran into your ex without hoseok around, and he asked, “so where’s your boyfriend?”

and you didn’t even care about the envy in his voice as you told him about how much hoseok had been working lately and how you hadn’t gotten to see him a lot

and there it was

the realization that you really cared more about spending time with hoseok than about making your ex jealous

god, it was so awkward bringing this up to hoseok, though

“so, hey, do you think it worked?” you asked him that same night once your conversation (sort of) turned to your exes

he wasn’t following, “what do you mean?”

cringing now, you tried to make this sound less childish, “well, you know. getting a reaction out of—”

“oh, that.”

silence

honestly, for a minute there, you worried hoseok was about to say that it had worked and that he was back together with his ex now

but then he just chuckled nervously and admitted, “honestly, i’ve kind of forgotten all about that.”

oh, well okay, but what does that mean????

your heart feels like it’s about to leap out of your chest as you wait for him to say something else

something that would, hopefully, make the state of your relationship a little more clear

but then hoseok just went, “so, how do you feel about ordering pizza tonight? my fridge is empty,” and that was it

so, yeah, idk, i guess you’re dating for real now? 🤷🏻‍♀️

↣ minhyuk

honestly, this was supposed to be just a joke

everyone always kept teasing you about how you spent so much time together, “it was time you started to date”

so minhyuk finally just shrugged, took your hand in his, and declared, “we already are”

it was mostly meant to make your friends uncomfortable

like, okay, they couldn’t stop teasing you about how close you were? then you’ll show them just how much closer you could be

but although your friends did squirm, and their teasing did turn into complaining within a few days of this

you felt like you were the one who felt the weirdest

because, fine, when it came down to it, maybe you did have a little crush on minhyuk

it was barely there, though!

you never even thought of it as a serious crush, you just found him attractive is all

but then he was suddenly glued to your side, always touching, always smiling and glancing over at you

and yeah, it’s definitely a crush now

and thing is, this doesn’t feel fake!

minhyuk went out of his way with the pda, all to make your friends cringe

but did he really have to call and text you every night before going to sleep just to say goodnight and wish you sweet dreams??

did he really have to remember every little thing that you’ve ever told him, even if you couldn’t remember saying it??

alright, to be fair, minhyuk realized he didn’t need to do those things, he was just taking full advantage of his position as your fake-boyfriend

and your friends’ teasing had not been baseless; clearly, there was something there between you and him

so, somewhere along the way, the fake dating seamlessly morphed into serious dating

your friends hadn’t even realized that “he’s my boyfriend” used to be a joke, but now you were no longer kidding

except, at times, when minhyuk was using his boyfriend status as an excuse to drag you to a yet another dreadfully boring event with him

he’d always use the boyfriend card

“how can you say no to me, Your Boyfriend™??”

and you’d always remind him, “well, technically, you never asked me out on a date, so i don’t know where you’re getting this from”

he’d give you a look and a sarcastic laugh

but he wasn’t too wounded by this because he was too busy wondering if you’d still say the same thing when he eventually used the “since i’m your boyfriend” technique to ask you to spend the rest of your life with him

↣ kihyun

okay, now, you weren’t supposed to start fake-dating

you just happened to be standing next to each other at a party when the guy who was relentlessly hitting on you the entire night, walked by and did a double-take

he stopped in front of you two, scratched his chin thoughtfully, and then said, very accusingly, “you should have told me you didn’t want to go on a date with me because you already had a boyfriend”

(really, you didn’t want to go on a date with him because he was a disgusting pig, but whatever gets him through the night)

and kihyun – who’s, really, more of a friend-of-a-friend than a boyfriend to you – was already opening his mouth to refute this

until you grabbed his hand and whispered a hushed, “why don’t we let him believe that?”

and you obviously didn’t mean that as a prank

kihyun could tell from the look in your eyes that you needed this guy to finally get lost, you weren’t just joking around

so he cleared his throat, got his hand out from your grip and placed it around your shoulders, bringing you closer

and then he stuck his chin out at the guy, “yeah, she has a boyfriend.”

partially cringing, you glared at the guy one more time – not that it did much; he was immune to all deadly looks – and he finally shrugged and walked away

you thanked kihyun, apologized, stammered awkwardly for another minute, and walked away, hoping to simmer in mortification somewhere else

preferably at a place where this cute boy, who just pretended to be your boyfriend, couldn’t see you

but, not even fifteen minutes later, your friends were collectively hitting you on your shoulders and back, all yelling over each other

you hunched over and took a few precautionary steps forwards to escape their assault, before giving them a bewildered look

“what the hell happened????”

finally, one of your friends gave you an explanation: “how dare you bring your boyfriend to the party and not introduce us?”

you were still staring at your friends with wide eyes, and you were genuinely starting to worry about the contents of their cocktails because they knew you didn’t have a boyfriend

“people just overheard you reject some asshole because you were here with your boyfriend,” another friend said. “they saw you hugging.”

oh. well

“he wasn’t—i was just—”

but you caught sight of the same asshole out of the corner of your eye, and, suddenly, you weren’t so sure if it was a good idea to admit to lying

“yeah,” you ended up saying, a defeated sigh following shortly after. “he’s my boyfriend. i’ll introduce you later.”

“why don’t you do it now?” a voice asked, nearly making you jump out of your skin

kihyun – the king of showing up at the right place, at the right time – was smiling as he stood next to you

your friends, of course, proceeded to pounce on you (that’s how they show love)

and it took you another half an hour to get kihyun alone to ask him why, in the name of god, would he carry on pretending to be your boyfriend?

and he’s been so composed the whole night, but suddenly he’s an awkward mess

“i don’t know,” he admitted, “maybe that’s the only way i knew how to ask you out on a real date.”

you both knew that there were many easier ways to do that, but you had to admit two things

one, you kind of have no choice but to say yes now, since everyone already thinks you’re dating

and two, the butterflies in your stomach have been rioting ever since kihyun introduced himself as your boyfriend that first time, so it would be good for your health to go on a real date with him. you know, to stop all the fluttering and the shaking of your heart

↣ hyungwon

hyungwon got you into the fake-dating mess by accident

he’d been trying to impress his new manager because he felt like he really deserved a promotion

but no matter what he did, the guy seemed to hate him

and then one time during lunch, hyungwon happened to start a conversation about music, and he discovered that the manager was into the same indie band as he was

he milked the hell out of this, mentioning every obscure song he could remember, and he could almost see the points he was gaining with the manager

he even ended up being called up to his office at the end of the day

“this will sound weird, but are you seeing anyone right now?” the manager asked

hyungwon genuinely thought he gave off the wrong impression and even glanced at the sexual harassment awareness posters on the wall of the office

but then the manager explained, “i have four tickets to the band’s concert this friday. we could go on a double-date.”

and, because this was his promotion on the line, hyungwon stammered, “uh… yes, i am seeing someone… a concert sounds great.”

cut to you getting a panicked phone call from hyungwon several hours later, demanding that you cancel your plans for friday night and pretend to be his girlfriend to impress his manager

eh, you like the band anyway, and hyungwon was a good friend, even if you never really saw him romantically, so why not

but, like in any classic rom-com, after spending the night exaggerating hyungwon’s positive qualities (in a subtle way, of course), you came to realize that, huh, maybe you did see him as a romantic interest? kind of? a little bit?

it was just nice how he kept holding you all throughout the concert, so he wouldn’t lose you in the crowd of people

and it was nice how he walked you home and checked on you even after his manager and his girlfriend had left the two of you alone

and it was also nice—alright, fine, you had a proper crush on hyungwon now

you assumed he’d done most of those things that night because he wanted to leave a positive impression on his manager

but then hyungwon got that promotion (the concert played a part in that for sure), and he invited you to celebrate at his house

and you showed up, thinking it was going to be a party for all of his friends, but it was just him, a bottle of wine, and two glasses

so you got worried that maybe you showed up too early, but hyungwon shook his head, “no, you’re right on time. wine?”

“uh… shouldn’t we wait for everyone else?”

“there’s no one else,” he said, his hands shaking as he unscrewed the cork. “it’s just you.”

oh, okay, then

now your heart was shaking and what-not, that’s great

“i wanted to thank you,” he said after he finally managed to pour wine into your glasses and onto the counter. “if it weren’t for you, i wouldn’t have gotten this promotion.”

“that’s not true, you’re a great employee and you deserve this.”

hyungwon appreciated you saying that, but he looked down and deflected, “you know, this promotion had been something that i was looking forward to for the past few months. until the night we went to that concert.”

you waited for him to continue, but his mouth was too dry, so he took a big gulp of his wine before he even finished the toast

(was this even a toast? oh god, he couldn’t understand what he was doing)

“t-that night,” he tried to continue, “i realized that i’m looking forward to seeing you again more than i’m looking forward to getting promoted. i was absolutely ready to go on a dozen more double-dates with you before i got that promotion.”

“i thought we’d have to do that, too, to be honest,” you interjected with a chuckle, alleviating the atmosphere slightly

“yeah?” hyungwon was glad to hear that. “i’m really, kind of, sad that we didn’t have to do that.”

quietly (because you didn’t dare to start drinking your wine yet, so you lacked the courage), you admitted, “me too.”

oh now he was positively vibrating and he had to set his glass of wine down as he braced himself

“why don’t we go on an actual date? no promotions to look forward to this time, just each other’s company.”

he looked like he was going to combust in three, two—

but you saved him by replying right away, “yeah. i’d like that.”

↣ jooheon

you and jooheon both wanted some peace and quiet when you went out with your friends, who all knew that the two of you were single, and kept setting you up with various people in the bar

so you suggested telling your friends that you both had already found relationships

“they’ll never believe it unless they see our partners,” jooheon pointed out

“okay,” you nodded, admitting the mistake. it only took you a second to come up with a better plan, though, “then how about we tell them we’re dating each other?”

he watched you for a minute, his eyebrows furrowed

“that is the dumbest thing i’ve ever heard,” he said then. “let’s do it.”

dumb or not, it worked

finally, you were able to relax, unwind, and get wasted on a friday night without being introduced to a new stranger every two drinks

it was a dream come true

and it worked like an excuse in other settings as well!

you don’t feel like attending another company dinner? “sorry, my boyfriend’s taking me out tonight, it’s our anniversary.”

jooheon hates his pretentious neighbour, so he needs an excuse to say no to his party? “sorry, got plans with my girlfriend this weekend.”

funnily enough, no one ever called either of you out on your bullshit

your co-workers had seen jooheon pick you up from work countless times

and all of jooheon’s neighbours knew you were the only person left who still had a spare key to his apartment (after a very unfortunate incident involving minhyuk, the notebook for jooheon’s lyrics, and a forgotten candle “for ambiance”, when jooheon was out of town)

nor you, nor jooheon had enough time for a serious relationship, and your fake-relationship never interfered with casual dating (since it all tended to end after one date)

so it was all fun and games

until your friends started asking, “so when are you going to propose?” and you realized this had been going on for a long time

jooheon, who was so used to his role as your fake-boyfriend, didn’t even skip a beat as he said, “when the time is right”

but the question rang in both of your heads for the rest of the night

when your taxi stopped outside of jooheon’s house at the end of the night, you got out with him because he was usually the type of drunk who could fall asleep in an elevator if left unsupervised

so, to save him the embarrassment – and also, to save you a trip back and forth between your houses – you tended to sleep in his guest room on friday nights

“you know what would be funny?” you asked him as the two of you took the elevator to his floor, “if we told our friends that we weren’t actually dating this whole time.”

jooheon chuckled, seemingly agreeing that this really would be funny

“you know what would be even funnier?” he responded, his speech still slurred from the alcohol. “if we actually started to date.”

you laughed, nodding, because that really would be even funnier

but then once jooheon was in bed and you prepared to head to the guest room, he suddenly grabbed your hand, stopping you

“so what time should i pick you up next week?” he asked

he never picked you up for anything, so you were understandably confused, “for what?”

“for our date,” he explained.

“oh, to pull the prank of the year?” you asked, chuckling. “first, we pretended to date, and then we actually started to date. but, actually, it’s all one big—”

“no,” jooheon disagreed, his eyes drooping, but his grip on your hand remaining firm. “this won’t be a prank. it’ll be a date. for real, this time.”

↣ i.m

he needed to get his family off his back (in the kindest way possible, of course)

there were only so many “it’s time for you to get married, why don’t i arrange a blind date for you?” a person could take

and you’d been his best friend for years, so hey, can you lend your friend a hand? you won’t even have to do anything

or so he said

you agreed because, according to changkyun, he’d just tell his family that you were his girlfriend, and you wouldn’t actually have to go to any dinners, or any parties whatsoever

how utterly and completely dumb this was!!!!!!

you run in the same circles, of course you were going to run into his family in town

their congratulatory hugs weren’t even the worst part (but it was still awkward, and you made a mental note to strangle kyun later)

the worst part was the “i knew you two kids would get together eventually!” comments

you felt like you were disappointing his family because you weren’t actually dating, and that felt a lot like disappointing your real family

it was crushing

you’d had such a good relationship with changkyun’s whole family, they were your second home

and now you were lying to them

so you didn’t think you were exaggerating when you sent changkyun a gentle “prepare to die” message once you managed to escape his relatives

he had a solution, though (at least, he thought he did)

“okay, so how’s this, then – we date for real?”

???????

he’d been your best friend for so long, you struggled to think of him as anything else

but it was also a defence mechanism in a way? you used to have the biggest crush on changkyun when you first became friends, so you needed to find a way to suppress these feelings

“changkyun,” you began seriously, “do you really think dating you would traumatize me less than my fear of disappointing your family?”

he watched you for a minute, the insult buffering, and then sent a pillow flying right at your head

“i’m saying i want you to go out with me, dumbass.”

you tried to duck, but still got swatted on the back of your head with the pillow as you asked, “why?”

he laughed humourlessly (and nervously) and then rolled his eyes, “gee, i don’t know, maybe because i don’t want you to feel bad about lying to my family, you sensitive wuss. or maybe because i genuinely have feelings for you, i don’t know.”

you were about to toss the pillow back at him, but then stopped

swallowing hard, you asked, “so which is it?”

“i can’t even breathe right now, which do you think it is?”

you were the one rolling your eyes this time, “can’t you just say it like a normal person, you asshole?”

“it’s already obvious, dimwit.”

“are you seriously only insulting me because you can’t tell me you like me? that’s lame, even for a nerd like you.”

he was groaning in exasperation at this point, “what else do you want me to do? you’re the most oblivious person i’ve ever met. and i don’t like you, you big idiot. i’m pretty sure i’m in love with you.”

mlist | inbox

[hxneyhxrts]

Sun Bleached || Jake “Hangman” Seresin (part 9)

Part 8

note: you guys never cease to amaze me. thanks for letting me take a day off from this, but i missed it terribly. there are only two parts left i think!!! but no worries, there are certainly one shots and possibly other fics from top gun coming. happy 4th with peace and love xx

warnings: explicit language

Be My Baby

‘Coward,’ Gwyn’s subconscious hissed at her.

She agreed.

Work was awful. It was hard enough to spend the entire drive in mentally preparing herself to see Jake’s perfect smile and easy nature with everyone but her, it was nearly impossible to be in close quarters to it.

Everyone who had been present for her outburst had been mercifully quiet about it, flat out avoiding the subject (at least, when she was around). Bob had texted her one time since the incident to tell her he was always around if she needed to talk and Bradley had given her shoulder a firm squeeze the morning after, but besides that, they left her to sort it out alone.

Alec had stayed the night with her every single night since he showed up on her doorstep, binging cheesy rom coms that she knew he hated and eating his way through her entire pantry. It was Friday night when he finally spoke up about it.

“We should go do something.”

Part of her felt bad for isolating them within the walls of her fortress (very messy house), but her stomach still soured at the thought of going out.

“Nothing crazy,” Alec promised. “Just something to get you moving. You’re becoming a blob. I’m not sure where you end and the couch begins.”

He had narrowly dodged the sandal she chucked at him.

So she pulled herself away from her third rewatch of “Love, Actually” and dug through her closet for something “comfortable and casual” as Alec had demanded. When they had settled in to his car, reeking of his nasty smoking habit and cologne she had given his as a Christmas present three years ago, he leveled her with a serious look.

“The team is out at the beach. They asked if we would stop by and hang out,” he coaxed gently, watching her shoulders seize up. “We don’t have to go, but I think it would be good.”

No more of those puppy dog eyes, just a careful stare that told her this was completely her decision. He’d be along for the ride no matter what.

Maybe it was that gesture that made her nod along, sitting back against the leather of his passenger seat as he pulled out of her driveway and set them on their way.

Sea salt hung on the breeze as it poured in through the open windows, and Gwyn found herself taking in greedy gulps of it.

Breathe in.

It would be okay.

Breathe out.

She would be fine.

Breathe in.

They weren’t on bad terms.

Breathe out.

They could be civil with each other.

Breathe in.

He would never treat her any differently.

Breathe out.

So she could do the same.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Alec was glancing at her every few minutes, never one for discretion. She had purposely looked back once or twice to get him to stop, but he still glanced at her from the corner of his eye when she fiddled with the radio or adjusted the air conditioning vents. He had always been observant and seemed to know exactly what she was thinking despite her poker face. Now was no different, and her heart warmed at the sentiment, but she could do this. She was on mission with some of the most incredible pilots in the world. Having a beach day with someone she still hadn’t sorted her feelings out for was manageable. Not easy, but manageable.

He loved her.

And deep down, she worried she felt the same.

Gwyn hadn’t admitted as much to herself yet, always backing off of the thought when she brushed too close to it. But in the calm that came with the sea breeze rolling through her hair and some jazzy song that sounded more fit for an Olive Garden than a beach drive, she let herself consider it.

Jake was different from any other man she had ever met. In past relationships, she had always done the heavy lifting and losing out when they couldn’t understand her goals and career. Truth be told, she hadn’t had a relationship that lasted longer than a few months since high school. Gwyn had grown tired of being the only one eager to work through things and seek out connection.

But Jake met her toe to toe in their relationship. She was never giving more than he was, never taking more than he allowed (and he seemed willing to let her have it all sometimes). Dating another pilot was an unwritten rule she had set for herself somewhere around meeting Alec and finding him annoyingly endearing, but Jake pushed and prodded at that rule every time she let him close enough to dance with it.

She wanted him to want her, no matter how silly that was. She enjoyed being around him and having a special connection with him that branched further than his interactions with the rest of the team. Somewhere around that night at the bar when he had saved her from some creep with wandering eyes (and hands), she had slipped in to wanting him around. And foolishly, she had chased that wanting instead of pulling back as hard as she could.

And he loved her.

And she maybe loved him.

The sudden jerk of Alec’s subpar parking pulled her from her thoughts and she lifted her head to find the glowing neon of the Hard Deck sign framed in golden sunlight.

With a small huff, she pulled herself from the car and steeled her nerves.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Alec grabbed her hand, a comforting gesture they had picked up after about a year of flying together. It was grounding the way his thumb swept across the back of her hand as he gently pulled her behind him. He was here for her and he would always be here for her, it said.

The sand pushed between their toes and they waddled through the heat and down the beach towards the noticeable group that had collected near the water. Gwyn tried to focus on how grains of sand slipped under her feet and how unbalanced it made her rather than a certain pilot who was smiling at the group without a care in the world.

A very shirtless pilot.

Gwyn swallowed. Hangman was cocky, unbearably so sometimes, and now she could see why. His bare chest was glistening in sweat, something that normally would make her nose scrunch, but now only made her mouth dry up. His arms were a lot more muscular than she had anticipated after only seeing them confined to his uniform and the occasional t-shirt. His hair was wind mussed and bright, perfectly framing the handsome face beneath it.

He was perfect.

A part of her hated it.

“There you guys are!”

Jake’s head snapped towards her at Payback’s shout, and then they were looking at each other for the first time in days. His smile dropped along with her stomach, and she tried her best to draw up a friendly smile that wouldn’t come out as a grimace.

He didn’t smile back.

Instead he swallowed and kept his stare fixed on her and Alec as they clumsily made their way over. Gwyn pulled her gaze away, choosing to focus on Phoenix as she bounded towards them, arms thrown open for a hug. She embraced the older woman with a squeeze, still trying to keep the perfect picture of easygoing maintained. Alec squeezed her hand. She could do this.

When she pulled back from Natasha, she chanced a glance at Jake. He was no longer looking at her, but at her hand, firmly clasped in Alec’s and squeezing as if it was a lifeline.

Maybe it was.

He swallowed once more and turned to Coyote, ending their weird stare-off. Gwyn’s head already felt clearer.

“What are you guys playing?” she asked, taking in the two footballs being tossed around between what looked like two separate teams.

“Dogfight football,” Phoenix smiled, gesturing between the groups. “Maverick showed it to us a few months ago. Defense and offense at the same time.” At the confused squint Gwyn slid her, she waved a hand. “You’ll figure it out.”

Alec pulled her towards the rest of the group, gripping her hand a little tighter once she was near enough to Jake to make her chest hurt. Bradshaw groaned at the sight of them.

“New rule. They can play, but they have to be on separate teams,” he declared with a note of finality that made Gwyn’s lips turn up slightly.

Alec breathed a laugh. “Afraid you won’t be able to beat us otherwise, Roo?”

Bradley scoffed at the nickname. “Just split up, assholes.”

“I call Cheek,” Trace shouted, pulling at her arm. “Girl power and all that.”

“I don’t think girl power is enough to stop my God-given athletic talent, but okay,” Alec quipped, and Gwyn threw her head back in a full laugh at that. She had seen Alec’s “God-given talent” when he had nearly broken his ankle playing soccer with her little sister at Thanksgiving last year. The taller man smiled, flipping her off as he stalked towards Bradshaw and the rest of his team.

Phoenix yanked her over to the small huddle that had formed for her team, and her breath hitched.

Jake was on her team.

She only half-listened as Coyote ran through their plan, completely focused on not meeting Jake’s eyes burning into the side of her head.

‘Look up,’ she tried to command herself. ‘This isn’t how you treat someone you still want to be friends with.’

But she couldn’t. Not without spilling everything she was feeling and telling him that yes, she probably loved him too.

So she kept her eyes glued to the shifting sand beneath them.

The game went for several rounds without incident. She had stayed on the opposite side of the game from Jake, only focusing on where the balls were and what she was supposed to do with them. She even found herself laughing when Bob slipped behind her and collided with her shoulder when they both reached for a football. Alec was being a terror, as per usual, consistently seeking her out to mess with her. She knew he was trying to check in on her from his place on the other team and maybe even keep her mind off of the green eyes she could feel trace down her back every few minutes.

Sweat had started beating its way down her chest, and she had made it nearly half an hour until she gave in to the burning of her skin and tore off her shirt, stripping down to only her sports bra and shorts. She actively ignored the gaze tracing over her bare skin, not wanting to think of what he saw and what he thought. The urge to raise her arms and cover herself bit at her heels, but she squashed it.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

“Oh now you’re just teasing me, honey,” Alec whistled as she joined the game once more.

She forced a laugh. “Come and get it then, baby.”

He smirked, crouching down in front of her and waiting for the whistle to blow. Once the sharp trill rang out she tried to slip past him, but he caught her with a firm arm around her waist before practically tackling her into the sand. She giggled as her back met the ground, falling into a full-on cackle once Alec sat up from where he had straddled her hips and raising his arms in victory. He whooped loudly enough to be heard down the beach, pinning her down to cease the squirming that accompanied her laughter.

“Gotcha,” he smirked, eyes roving down her chest in an obnoxious show of flirting that he always laid on her to make her laugh. She broke out in more giggles and he smiled. “Yeah, I think I like this game.”

She pushed at his chest, but he stayed firm, pondering out loud if he should take a picture of her beneath him and store it away for later, making her push and buck more through her laughs. She turned her head and accidentally caught Jake’s eyes and the way his jaw clenched.

Her stomach flipped, and she pushed at Alec’s chest again, firmer this time. He relented, sitting back on his heels with that same outrageous smirk.

“I’m grabbing a beer,” she announced to no one in particular, and marched off quickly while brushing sand from her skin.

Maybe coming out today had been a bad choice. Working alongside him was one thing when they had professional boundaries and duties that kept them from talking about whatever had happened between them. But out here, on the beach, away from the structure of their day-to-day, there was nothing stopping them. Nothing stopping Jake from looking at her the way that made her lightheaded, nothing keeping her from telling him that fuck, she might just love him.

The splintered wood of the Hard Deck patio grounded her, digging into her bare feet painfully. She could hide out in the bar for a bit until she didn’t feel so lovesick and awful, and maybe she’d drink enough to ease the sting of seeing him.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Penny greeted her with a warm smile and it was refreshing to see someone greet her without that hesitancy the rest of the world had offered her the last few days. Someone who knew nothing about her situation, how she had blown up, or how she was fighting a losing battle with her feelings.

Gwyn considered hanging out at the bar, but decided against it in favor of pacing the busy crowd to shake out the jitters that collected in her legs. Sitting at the bar would only give her time to think, and thinking meant thinking about Jake. So she pushed around warm bodies, some drunker than others and reeking of whatever was in their glass, and found it was pretty easy to lose herself between them. There was anonymity in isolating herself in a crowd full of strangers. They didn’t know her. They didn’t need to.

She smiled at a few patrons whose eyes she caught, making rounds through the room just to keep her from growing antsy and stationary. It was far too loud to be comfortable, but Gwyn didn’t mind. It was solace compared to what waited for her back on the beach.

A hand wrapped around her wrist and tugged her back towards someone. She had just turned her head in time to stop herself from colliding into a chest covered in a beer soaked t-shirt. Her lip curled at the reek of it, eyes flying up to find an unfamiliar face.

“Hey you,” said the man who was now leaning into her space much closer than she wanted him. His breath smelled like pure alcohol, and his hand around her wrist was unpleasantly clammy. The man hiccuped, a pitiful and slimy sound. “Where’s your boyfriend now?”

Her brow furrowed before realization settled in. This was the jackass who had hit on her on her birthday, the same sleaze who had to be pulled off of her last time. She swallowed.

“He’s… around,” she lied, eyes nervously bouncing around the bar for help. No one paid them any mind, everyone too far gone to pay attention to the conversation at hand.

A smirk. Then, “How interesting.” He slid his sweaty palm to her waist, pulling her close until they were almost chest to chest. She cringed away from him, leaning back as far as his vice grip would allow. “You know, you really let me down that night,” he started, taking another swig from the bottle clasped in his other hand. “All I wanted to do was buy a pretty girl a drink. How embarrassing.”

Alarms blared all through her head, ringing out like the gun-lock alerts in her cockpit. Her fists clenched as she tried to pull away to no avail.

“So,” he continued, eyeing her with a predator's gaze, daring her to do something about the arm around her waist, “I’ll ask again. Where’s your boyfriend?”

“Right here, asshole.” And then a firm hand was pushing at his chest, sending him stumbling away from her and almost falling into a group of other bar-goers. Gwyn’s chest loosened, a panicked breath ripping out of her and sitting in the space around her.

Jake.

Of course it was Jake.

He made to push past her, aiming for the jackass who was still collecting himself from his near tumble, but she threw out a desperate hand to stop him. Jake turned to her, green eyes looking at the hand she had wrapped around his wrist and then her eyes as they silently pleaded with him to not do anything he’d have to answer for come Monday morning.

He relented, throwing one last glance over his shoulder, before turning and pulling her behind him with a grip on her hand. Butterflies replaced the anxiety in her stomach at the contact.

Jake pulled her through the labyrinth of bodies, only stopping to push her into a supply closet before sliding in after her and shutting the door.

Silence fell over them, and she finally looked at him, really looked at him. There were small shadows under his eyes, twin to hers, and his brow had pinched.

“Can we talk?” he almost whispered.

She wanted to say no. Selfishly, she wanted to push past him and demand Alec take her home before she told Jake everything she had been wrestling with for days now.

But she couldn���t. Not to him. Never to him.

She nodded, fearing words would fail her, and Jake’s eyes softened.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry about our last conversation. First of all, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. And second, I-“ he cut himself off, shaking his head and looking away from her. She wanted to reach for him, pull his eyes back to hers and suddenly she was desperate to be closer to him as his nervousness tore across his face.

“I shouldn’t have dumped all of that on you,” he admitted in a whisper.

God, she hadn’t been able to even look at him after the confession and yet he was the one apologizing to her. She opened her mouth to tell him to stop, or maybe to tell him how she felt, but he held a hand out to stop her.

“Please,” he almost begged. “Let me finish.”

Gwyn nodded, stiff and unbecoming, and allowed him to continue despite the urge to argue clawing in her stomach.

Jake’s hands landed on his hips and he looked so unlike the Jake she had come to know. He scrubbed a hand down his face. “It wasn’t right to put that on you. How I feel is not your fault or your responsibility. And if I were a better leader, I wouldn’t have told you about those feelings. So I’m sorry,” he breathed in a rush. Gwyn stayed quiet, true to her word, but she found herself wanting to kiss away the frown he wore.

“I think-“ he began again, swallowing as the words came out cracked. “You are the first person I’ve ever felt these things for. I’m not really a ‘dating’ guy, but I just… can’t help wanting that with you. Bradshaw says everyone has a person that makes them want to be a better person, out of love or whatever,” he sighed. “And you’re that person for me. I’m sorry for pulling you away from…” he trailed off, lazily waving a hand towards the door. “I just couldn’t stand the sight of that. I have these feelings for you and they mean a lot to me. They’re mine, and they’re things I’ve never felt before. So I guess I think-“ he gulped, eyes finally meeting hers again. “You’re my girl. To me, at least. And I know that doesn’t really make sense and I have no right to think of you that way, but it’s true. You’ll always be my girl, I think.”

Her breath rattled in her chest at the confession. She wanted to kiss him. Hold him close and apologize and stay in the safe haven of his arms for the rest of her life.

“I’m working on it, I promise,” Jake went on dejectedly. “I just need a bit more time. Just a little longer and then I won’t be such a mopey, miserable prick.”

Tears were stinging her eyes, and Gwyn blinked against the burn. “Jake,” she breathed.

“It’s okay,” he promised with a small smile that looked anything but okay. “It’s alright, baby.” His hand reached for her before he decided against touching her and dropping it. “I’ll see you back out there.”

He turned to leave, pausing with his hand on the doorknob. She silently begged him to turn around, give her a chance to collect herself and force the words out of her mouth and stop being a coward. But he sighed and pushed through the door, leaving her alone in the supply closet.

She wanted to chase after him, but her feet were cemented to the floor.

‘You’ll always be my girl, I think.’

Gwyn wondered if the rest of the bar could hear her chest crack open.

Part 10

taglist: @rachelccollier @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @the-winter-marvel33 @barbiewritesstuff @dilfsandtherapy @dempy @itevilhag @supernaturaldawning @katesmadness @roses-and-grasses

[noteguk]

bad behavior | jjk | m

This is in the same universe as “bad influence.” It can, however, be read as a stand-alone. 

— summary; in which staying late to volunteer at a self-help meeting was the best decision you made in a while. 

— contents and warnings; smut, the endless adventures of badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, public sex (in a church…), dirty talk, fingering, degradation (name calling) but also praise, unprotected sex, clothed sex, creampie, cum play, there is a window and also reflections, rough sex, cockwarming, jk being a lil shit because that’s his main personality trait, jk smokes (only mentioned), enemies to fuckbuddies: dawn of the first day 

— words; 8.2k

— author’s note; for the anon that asked how their first time was like ;) join me as we explore the lore of this godforsaken couple 

It was your mother’s idea for you to find a new place to volunteer. According to her, it had been a long time since you experienced “the invigorating energy of community work” — last time was when you were trying to level up your college application — and it could really “soothe your anxious soul” during the trying times of college finals. Apparently one tutoring program and two research projects weren’t enough to distract you, but you could see where she was coming from. 

In the end, you accepted. The old places you used to volunteer in had either shut off their programs or were just too far away from college for you to consider. At first, you decided to follow your mother’s suggestion and tried to work with children — “small miracles”, as she called them — in a local daycare. Which ended up being a terrible idea. 

You liked giving back to the community, you really did, but it wasn’t long until you realized that working with infants hasn’t been your wisest decision, and that children weren’t miracles at all. You got tired of going home covered in paint and with pieces of playdough entangled in your hair, and that was when you weren’t unlucky enough to get hit with other, less clean fluids. 

So you eventually gave up — both on the daycare and on the faint idea of one day going into pediatrics — and searched for a new place. After having to yell your way through retirement homes, and getting fed up with washing people’s sidewalks, you finally settled in a program that was flexible and light enough for your intense college hours: preparing (and then later cleaning up) a room that was reserved in a local church for weekly meetings. 

The entire ordeal took about two to three hours off your day, and more than half of it was spent as free time: waiting for the meeting to end, cramming piles of information in a small room next door. You didn’t really know what the meetings were about since they changed practically every month — they were, at first, a support group for teenage mothers, then it became an AA meeting, then a group for drug users trying to quit. Lately, you were starting to think that the church just gave away the room for whoever had the money to rent it, so it wasn’t a surprise when it was reserved for a motivational speaker to give confidence lessons. 

You had researched the guy, some old dude with an unpronounceable name and a sketchy background, and found exactly the type of person you had expected. Yes, you were in the house of Christ, but you were still being heavily judgmental of the fact that he was giving those talks when he had no qualifications whatsoever, and was probably making bank off all the self-help books he regurgitated at least twice a year to prey on vulnerable people. You did share your worries with the administrative office of the church, but they ultimately fell on deaf ears, and you gave up on the idea of kicking his ass out of the holy grounds anytime soon. 

It was after one of those pseudo-motivational talks that you walked into the empty room, ready to clean everything up before rushing back to your place, where your roommate had promised to greet you with some wonderful takeout. The chairs were still placed in a circle on the center of the room, where they had been since forever, and you made sure to align them perfectly before you moved on to the litter that had been thrown around the place. 

One good thing about those self-help meetings was that they were a lot cleaner than a lot of other attendees, so the “picking up the trash until your back started to hurt” part passed by surprisingly fast. You had just moved on to the snack table, analyzing what you could still save, when your soul almost left your body. 

“Hey, you,” you heard a known voice behind you. “What are you doing in here?”

You swiftly turned around, heart thumping violently against your ribcage. You didn’t know how you hadn’t let out the biggest, most blood-curdling scream ever, but that was just the first of many miracles of the night. “Jesus Christ,” you wheezed out, taking one hand to your chest. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like this.” You swallowed dry, some part of your brain recalling that he had asked you a question. “And I’m volunteering here.” 

“I didn’t sneak up on you, you’re just jumpy.” Jungkook scoffed, leaning against the doorframe with that stupid playful smirk curling up on his lips. You didn’t know they allowed demons inside the church. “And of course you are.” He rolled his eyes. 

Maybe a few months back, his mocking tone would’ve stung a bit more. However, you had been tutoring Jungkook for about three months then, suffering through endless sessions of his whining and complaining, and you’ve grown used to his passive-aggressive antics already. You learned that Jungkook was a shark seeking for blood, waiting for any crack that would allow him to jump into a perverse little joke — about how you behaved, your priorities, or even the color of your highlighter. You, of course, always stood your ground and threw his comments right back at him — which was his initial plan, as you’ve come to realize. Jungkook enjoyed playfully arguing with you, and you thought that it was another level of strangeness and masochism you simply didn’t have time to dissect. 

Still, Jungkook (shockingly) wasn’t the terrible person you once thought he was. Every once in a while — when he was trying to talk you out of teaching him — the conversations you two would have were actually mostly pleasant, and he wasn’t awful to hang around when he dropped the whole badass persona to act like a real human being. You would even dare to say that Jungkook could be actually funny at times, and not in the bitter, sarcastic way he usually was. Sometimes, you dared to think, he could actually be reasonably nice. And also kind of cute. Even hot. 

But you would never actually admit any of that out loud. Or even to yourself, really. 

“And you?” You asked, turning back around to face the table full of half-eaten food. That looked like a battlefield, and you could already tell that there were only a few survivors left standing. “What are you doing here? Repenting?” 

Jungkook chuckled dryly. “You wish. My parents want me to quit smoking,” he said. You could not see him, but you could hear him walking closer to you as you fumbled with the large Tupperware. “We settled on this crap instead of a forced intervention.” 

You scoffed. Most of the food before you was unsalvageable — some of the cupcakes had been bitten once and then placed back, and you wondered how someone like that could function in society. “You don’t seem very motivated to quit,” you mumbled. 

Jungkook clicked his tongue. “I don’t really care.” 

His voice was much closer to you, and you felt the air leaving your lungs for a pitiful instant. You convinced yourself you had only gotten scared again. “You should care about the growing possibility of lung cancer.” 

He shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s not really on the top of my list of priorities at the moment.” 

“And what is?” You asked. 

“Amongst other things…” he trailed off and, suddenly, he was standing besides you, pointing at the chaotic pile of sweets. “I actually came back to grab another one of those cupcakes. The chocolate ones are great.” 

You didn’t know why, but his comment broke the odd tension that you didn’t even know that was there, clicking you back into your previous mentality — the one that you just wanted to finish cleaning up so you could leave soon. “All yours,” you told him, “grab as many as you want.” 

Jungkook hummed in satisfaction, reaching out to grab one special brown cupcake — an untouched one, thankfully. “I love when you talk dirty.” He almost moaned before shoving the cupcake inside his mouth, taking a huge bite off it. Dramatically, Jungkook rolled his eyes and sighed in delight. “These are fucking great.” 

You chuckled, glancing at his direction. Jungkook was dressed in all black, like he usually was, and you were starting to recognize a newfound admiration towards his constant use of leather jackets. What? He looked good. “I’m glad the self-help sessions are paying off,” you commented, swiftly placing the cupcakes inside the transparent container. 

Jungkook was paying attention to your actions now, like he noticed you were there working for the first time. “What are you doing with the rest?”

“The church will probably donate it, give it to the homeless or something.” You shrugged. “Or they’ll eat it, I don’t know. I just clean up the place and leave.” 

Jungkook laughed at that, taking another monstrous bite from his cupcake and throwing himself on one of the nearby chairs. Your eye twitched a little at the thought that he had ruined your perfect circle, but you’d have to fix that on your way out. “Sounds absurdly boring,” he sang. “And they’re not even paying you.” 

You sighed. “After all the places I’ve volunteered in, boring is a blessing,” you told him. You had just placed five hot dogs in the container, and you were starting to wonder if it would be a good idea to feed people in need with those suspicious sausages. “But, yeah, you probably don’t care about any of that.” 

“You don’t know what I care about,” Jungkook said matter-of-factly. You didn’t know if he was trying to tease you, but his voice came out so soft and monotone that you couldn’t really be mad about it. It was true, after all: you didn’t actually know what he cared about. Sometimes you thought that he could read you better than you could read him. “Want me to stay here with you? This place is probably empty already.”

You could not hold back your laugh at that, turning around so you could look at him. “Are you offering to be my bodyguard? In a church?” 

Jungkook pouted. There was a thin line of chocolate on the side of his lips, which he quickly licked clean. “I’m trying to be nice.”

You giggled, turning back towards the disgusting food. The rest was mostly trash, but you were happy enough with the amount you had managed to find in a good state. “That’s new.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked. “I’m always nice.”

“Always is a strong word.” You smiled, closing the lid of the Tupperware. You had managed to fill three small containers with the leftovers and, honestly, that was a big victory. “But you can stay or you can leave, I don’t mind. I’m almost done anyways.” 

He frowned. “Is that your answer?” 

You turned around. “What? You want me to beg for your company?” You smiled. “You’re mistaken if you think I’d ever do that.”

“I’m staying.” Jungkook crumpled up the piece of cupcake wrapping and threw it in the trash can besides your body. He watched you for a moment as you started to throw the leftovers away, your back turned to him and a distracted look on your face. When he broke the silence again, you were throwing the last piece of bread in the bin. “Why are you volunteering?” 

“Because I like giving back to the community.” 

Jungkook sneered at your words. “Seriously now. Don’t lie, we’re in a church.” 

“I do, actually,” you stood your ground. There was a vague sound of crickets coming from the half-open window and the low buzzing of the fluorescent lights above you, but, other than that, the city was covered in absolute silence. Perhaps that was why you felt so at peace. “But my mom told me it would be a good thing to keep myself relaxed. You know, take my mind off college stuff.” 

He hummed, and you heard him getting up from the chair. “You always do what your mom tells you?” 

You met his gaze. “Didn’t your parents make you come here?”

He smiled. “Not the point.” 

Before you could hold yourself back, your lips were curling up. Again: Jungkook wasn’t absolutely awful to be around when he actually acted like a human being. “When she says something I agree with, yes,” you told him. “My ego isn’t bruised when it comes to following someone’s idea.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re saying that mine is?”

“I didn’t say that.” You smirked and turned back to the table. You started piling up the used plastic cups, already eyeing all the used plates, forks and knives that you’d have to throw away. The daycare had better eating manners than that. “Thought we were talking about me.” 

“We were,” Jungkook agreed. One of his inked hands moved to the table, and you were about to tell him that he could eat more of the cupcakes when you realized that he had started to reach for the discardable plates, throwing them away. You really didn’t think he’d help you. “Finals are coming up, though, and you care about that shit. Shouldn’t you be using this time to study or something?”

“I study while you’re out here listening to becoming your real self or, I don’t know... waking up the giant within,” you said. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” 

He hummed, his nose cringing up at the disgusting remains of food that stuck to the plastic forks. Jungkook seriously didn’t know how you could do that for fun. “You know there are better ways to relax than cleaning up a dusty room, right?” 

“Probably,” you agreed. The cups were already in the trash, alongside with the plates, and there were only a few crumpled up napkins to get rid of before you tasted the sweet nectar of freedom. “But here I am. That’s what I chose for myself.” 

“Literally any other option would’ve been better,” Jungkook pressed on. “Isn’t that obnoxious friend of yours in cheer or something?” 

“Who? Jisoo?” You smiled at him. No one had ever called her obnoxious, but you couldn’t say that the title didn’t fit. Jisoo could be really… intense when it came to standing up for what she believed in. “She is. She invited me to join her already, if that’s what you’re gonna ask, but it’s not really my thing.” 

“It’s a shame,” he mumbled, leaning against the table. It was a beautiful miracle how clean that room had become just by getting rid of the piles of gross food, and you had proudly thrown the last piece of paper inside the trash bin when Jungkook spoke up again. “You’d look really hot in that outfit.” 

You stopped in your tracks, taking a second to digest the claim he had so mindlessly thrown your way. Just like all-things-Jungkook, a pleasant conversation could not last long, so you weren’t even surprised that he managed to ruin that talk with such a fuckboy-esque comment. 

Also like all-things-Jungkook, he managed to awaken a reaction out of you that you didn’t even know could be there. With a faint heat in your cheeks and a frown blossoming amongst your features, you actually felt a little bit of... satisfaction with the fact that he thought that you’d look hot in that skimpy outfit. At the same time, you wanted to slap yourself for falling into his charms so easily. 

In that conflicting turmoil of emotions, all you could say was a monotone, “You cannot be serious right now.”

Even if you kind of wanted him to be serious. 

“I’m being dead serious,” Jungkook didn’t back down, much to the elation of your ego. You felt like a schoolgirl being recognized by her crush, and the idea alone made your stomach curl onto itself. What the hell were you even thinking about? Yeah, Jungkook was pretty hot, but he was also kind of a douche and you didn’t want to get involved with that mess of a person. Or at least that was what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I mean…” he continued, “you’re even rocking this knee-level dress right now, can’t even imagine how you’d look if—“ 

“You can shut up now, Jungkook, thanks,” you interrupted him. Because you didn’t know how to act when he was so blatantly flirting with you, you switched back to the same passive-aggressive behavior that you had given him for the past three months. Call it self-preservation, call it panic, but your mind simply didn’t know where to go from there. “And I’m also done here, so you can skidaddle back to whatever swamp you came out of.” 

“Awn, don’t be mean, princess.” He pouted. Jungkook was a master at getting you worked up, and you had just given that to him on a silver platter. Maybe if you had mock-flirted back, he would’ve baked away. You would never know. “I was just fucking with you, you’re too easy to tease.” 

You pressed your lips together, hip touching the corner of the now empty table. “You were pretty much harassing me,” you said playfully. 

“I was not.” Jungkook smirked, shoving his hands inside the pockets of his pants. When had the two of you gotten so close? There was barely any space between your chests. “But it’s okay, I’m not gonna compliment you anymore, don’t worry. You don’t have to be so defensive.” 

“I’m not being defensive,” you said, defensive. 

“What, is it the church setting?” He raised his eyebrows, taking a look around. “Is it making you uncomfortable?” 

“No,” you answered, crossing your arms before your chest. Jungkook followed the movement and his gaze got stuck on the shape of your breasts for a second too long, making a newfound wave of heat rise up to your cheeks. “Not as much as you’re trying to make me uncomfortable right now.” 

He chuckled. “You do look cute when you’re shy,” Jungkook teased, taking a step towards you, and you took another one back, pretending you were just going to lean against the table. You sat on it in a weird diagonal position, with one leg still on the ground and the other dangling over the edge. Jungkook was so close that, when he spoke again, voice just above a whisper, you could feel his breath on your skin. “If you don’t want me here, just ask me to go and I’ll go.” 

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. The atmosphere was filled with electricity, your body drowning in the warmth of his presence, the sharp seriousness in his dark eyes, and you could not bring yourself to say anything. Did you want him to leave? 

No, you realized in a rush of adrenaline, you didn’t want him to leave at all. 

Jungkook raised one of his eyebrows. “Hm? Nothing?” He smirked, placing himself between your legs. Every nerve of your body was screaming for you to touch him, to just wrap his mouth with yours, and you simply could not respond to any of its commands. “You’re full of surprises.” 

You found your voice at that comment, heart hammering against your chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You’re a smart girl, you can figure it out.” Jungkook placed one strand of your hair behind your ear, his gaze flickering down to your chest. From where he stood, he could see the beautiful mounds of your breasts peeking under the fabric, licking his lips at the sight. “Can I at least say that I like your dress?” 

Jungkook’s palm slithered up your knee before you could even react, moving towards your inner thigh and raising your dress along with it. His touch was electrifying, and you found yourself craving more of it, a sigh caught on your throat at the tenderness of his hot skin. 

“Something tells me that your compliment isn’t so innocent,” you told him, leaning your head back slightly so you could hold his gaze. “Aren’t you gonna complete that and say that I would look better without it?”

Jungkook chuckled. “The idea is compelling, I’ll admit it,” he said, rubbing soft circles on your skin. His other hand slithered around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “But don’t need to take it off to fuck you.” 

Your eyes grew wide at that, brain short-circuiting. You frankly couldn’t believe that was happening — the fact that Jungkook was so shamelessly trying (and honestly succeeding) to initiate sex with you. In a fucking church too, of all places. “What- what did you say?”

“You heard what I said.” His stare didn’t falter. Jungkook was looking at you like he could eat you whole, and you seriously wouldn’t mind if he tried to. You'd deal with the social and psychological implications of that another time. “Just tell me to stop and I’ll do it, princess. No hard feelings, promise.” 

This time, you spoke out and the firmness and certainty in your voice surprised even yourself. “I don’t want you to stop.” 

“No?” His voice sounded like honey, so deep and melodic even through the thick layers of his sarcasm. You had never heard him get so serious, so focused, and the thought that it was all for you was igniting a fire inside your guts. “You wanna get fucked in a church?” 

You bit your lip, blinking up at him. The point was: you wanted Jungkook, of all people, to fuck you. The fact that it was in a church was just the cherry on top, and you didn’t care about it as much as you should — your mom would be weeping blood if she knew what was going on, but you weren’t planning on telling anything to anybody. “And what if I do?” You asked back teasingly. 

Jungkook smiled, knocking the breath right out of you. You could only hope that you didn’t look as horny as you felt, because your pride was still on the line. “Told you that you were full of surprises.” He pushed one of your legs open, making you lose your support on the floor. Now, both of your feet were dangling off the edge, body trapped between his strong arms and thighs on either side of him. “Are you a virgin, baby?”

You shook your head, and your voice reached you a bit later. “No.”

“Naughty,” Jungkook said, leaning in. He stared at you like a lion stalking its prey, his gaze lingering on your parted lips before, at last, he tilted his head to the side, deciding to move towards your neck instead. “But if you have the taste I think you do, you probably had some lame missionary sex with some goodie-two shoes.” 

When he started kissing your neck, you almost forgot to give him a response. You had to bite your lip to suppress a moan, instead producing a low, shaky sigh. “And if I did? What’s the problem with some lame missionary sex?” 

“No need to get mad, I’m on your side here,” Jungkook said, one of his hands navigating up your waist, between the valley of your breasts, before grabbing your boob. That time, you couldn’t hold back the whimper that escaped you. “Did he make you cum?” 

“Sometimes,” you said, slightly flustered. You didn’t think you’d be discussing your sexual history with Jungkook, but, well, there you were. “He was alright.” 

“Only sometimes?” Jungkook chuckled, the vibrations of his deep timbre vibrating through the sensitive skin of your neck, his thumb grazing your nipple. The heat between your legs only grew, your entire body practically begging to feel more of him. “That’s a shame, I could do better.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t start getting cocky.”

“I never stopped being cocky,” he responded without hesitation. Well, he was right. “And I do have a good track record.” 

“Doubt it,” you said, the ghost of a smile lingering on your lips. You knew that you were playing a dangerous game, pressing right at the weak spots of his inflated ego to see how he would react. Perhaps you’d be luckier trying to poke a bear with a short stick. “You wouldn’t know the difference between a real and fake orgasm even if it hit you in the face.” 

Jungkook leaned back and looked at you for an instant. You knew he had caught onto your challenge straight away. He liked it as much as you did, there was no doubt about that. “Let’s see, shall we?” he asked. There was no denying the devilish aura that was all around him now, suffocating you with its tempting heat. “How long do we have?”

“I’m locking up the room tonight,” you said, watching as his eyes sparked with an emotion you could not decipher. “But I wanna get home before ten. Have homework.” 

You could see him fighting against the natural urge to ridicule you for saying something like that at such an odd time, but, at the end, he managed to avoid it. “More than enough time.” Jungkook placed one hand on the back of your neck, gaze darting hungrily toward your lips. “Come here.”

And then his mouth was on yours, and everything else was white noise. Jungkook kissed you much slower than you had anticipated, taking his sweet time caressing your mouth with his; hands exploring the curves of your body and teasing their way underneath your dress. He sighed heavily against your mouth when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, his soft tongue poking out and entering your mouth perfectly. Jungkook was a good kisser, you had to admit it, and he got your knees weak sooner than you’d like. 

His body was hot and firm against yours and you could feel the outline of his abs underneath your fingers as you trailed your hands down his torso; his quick heartbeat drumming on your palms. Jungkook’s breathing got heavier as you hooked your fingers on the hem of his pants and tugged him toward you. Instantly you noticed the outline of his hard cock against your inner thigh. 

Then, something switched. Just as you had reached out to touch his hardness, squeezing it lightly underneath your fingers, Jungkook groaned against your mouth and bit down on your lip. You had barely any time to react before he was pulling away from the kiss, gaze darkening. 

“Such a tease,” he mumbled hoarsely, his breath hitting your mouth in soft waves. His hand was hovering over your heat, his middle finger pressing down on your sensitive nub, making you whimper. “You don’t know what you do to me.” 

Jungkook was much quicker than your thoughts and, within a second, the motion of your panties being pushed aside made you fumble closer to him; your hands holding tightly onto his shoulders when he finally decided to touch you. 

“Fuck,” he groaned next to your ear, making your mind go blank for a split second. The teasing motions of his digits brushing your entrance were enough to make you whimper, hips thrusting forward in a failed attempt to make him move further. “Look at this, you’re soaking my fingers. Wanna get fucked that bad?”

But he didn’t let you respond. The sudden intrusion of two fingers inside your pussy made your back arch, nails digging in the leather of his jacket as Jungkook opened you up. “I—” you tried to speak, but it was hard to think when he started pumping his fingers in and out of you. The sounds of your wetness were a filthy symphony filling the quiet atmosphere. “Jungkook, what—” 

“God, that’s so tight,” he groaned, speaking through clenched teeth. His voice was enough to shut you up at the spot, a frail moan dripping from your lips. “Relax, baby, you’re too tense. Let me take care of you, alright?” 

You nodded, eyes drifting shut as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. You hated to admit it, but Jungkook was already winning against your ex by a long shot: the way his digits brushed inside you, gradually moving apart to stretch you, got you searching — begging — for more. You were sure you could cum around his fingers and, when he curled them up and they dragged against your sweet spot, the idea became a lot more palpable. 

“Jungkook, you’re taking too long, I’m gonna cum like this,” you complained, chest rising and falling under the waves of your upcoming orgasm. You could feel it building up in your stomach, ready to snap, and you didn’t want it to happen around his fingers. “I wanna feel you.” 

Jungkook breathed out at your needy request, placing a kiss against your jaw. “I’m just getting you ready for my cock, baby,” he said. A loud moan dripped from you when he unceremoniously added a third finger, your legs trembling on either side of his body. “I don’t know if you can take it.”

You scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you said, only half aware of the fact that your voice sounded more like a whimper than a serious comment. “I can.” 

He smirked wickedly. You really were pushing his buttons. “We’ll see about that,” Jungkook responded. 

Within a second, right as your orgasm was about to wash over you, he removed his fingers from your pussy. The frustrated moan you let out was quickly swollen by him, his mouth rogue against yours and the sweetness of his tongue intoxicating you — probably those stupid cupcakes, you thought. 

“Turn around for me,” he asked. 

You quickly did as he requested, putting your feet on the ground before turning your back to him, hands leaning on the table. Jungkook placed one hand on the curve of your spine, pushing you down until you had your chest against the surface, ass perked up and pussy in full display for him. There was a gush of cold air against your flesh when he pulled up the fabric of your dress and tossed it over your waist, exposing your lower body for him.

The boy hummed at the sight, one of his legs kicking your feet apart so he could position himself in the middle of your thighs. “You’re pretty all around,” Jungkook commented, one of his palms grazing your asscheek before grabbing it. His motion was harsh, needy; earning a whimper from you. “Knew you would be.” 

Through the dense clouds of your desire, there was still some part of you that managed to make fun of that situation. “You spend your free time thinking about my ass?”

“Won’t answer until I have a lawyer present,” he joked. 

You felt his fingers hooking around the fabric of your panties, pushing it further to the side so you had your cunt fully exposed for him to see. The drumming of your heartbeat almost drowned out the low groan he produced at the sight of your flushed heat. 

“Princess, your pussy is dripping so much…” Jungkook trailed off, one of his fingers tracing a line between your lips. He felt the urge to eat you out, to lick you completely clean and make you cum on his tongue, but he decided that would have to wait for a different time. “Is this all for me?” 

“Yeah, all for you,” you said, weak. There was a thundering exasperation building up inside you, motivated from your denied orgasm and from the way that Jungkook was taking his sweet time. 

“Good girl,” he mumbled and your chest was filled with pride. “Can’t wait to fuck it.” 

“Then don’t wait,” you practically begged. “Just rush.”

He removed his finger from your heat. “Shh… be patient,” Jungkook told you and you swore you could practically hear the smile in his voice. You could hear him shuffling behind you, the sound of his zipper opening echoing around that still room. “I’m gonna give you whatever you want.” 

You whined at the abrupt feeling of his warm cock rubbing between your folds, its tip hitting your clit after every languid thrust. “Fuck,” you cried out, shaky. Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said that he was big, his length was so thick that you were starting to get second thoughts whether you could take it or not. Not that you would ever admit it out loud. “Just put it in, Jungkook.” 

But Jungkook was having way more fun just teasing you. “Pussy’s so wet for me.” He breathed out, his hands tightening around your hips. You felt him throb between your folds, and the sensation got you searching for air. “You’re soaking my cock, baby. You want it that much?”

“Y-Yeah.”  

Jungkook hummed, leaning in so he could place a kiss on your shoulder. “I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve to be fucked, princess,” he promised, his length still rubbing between your folds. He was so hard and heavy that your mind was spinning, your lungs drowning in expectation. “Gonna fuck you so well that you’re never going to forget it. Do you want that?”

“Yes,” your voice was a pathetic moan, and you hated your body for betraying you so easily. “Yes, please.” 

After another pec on your shoulder, Jungkook leaned back. “Be loud for me, alright?” He asked. “Can you do that for me?”

You swallowed hard — what were the chances that someone would hear you? You had no idea. “Yeah, whatever you want, just fuck me.”

“Whatever I want? That’s a dangerous thing to say.” He moved around behind you, making you flinch when you felt his cock align with your dripping entrance. The anticipation was driving you insane. “Might have to see if you’re up for it another time.” 

There was an answer somewhere in your mind — you could swear there was — but it was quickly forgotten the second that Jungkook pushed himself inside you. The drag of his cock was a delicious torture, streching you out and filling you up to the brim until you were shaking under his touch, both of you moaning at the sensation. 

“Oh my god.” You breathed out, hands turning into fists on the table. Your cheek was pressed against the polished wood, hot breath creating small white clouds on the surface. 

Jungkook released a shaky sigh when he felt you clenching around him, your body desperately trying to move closer to him. “Fuck, baby,” he hissed, his hands holding onto your hips for dear life. Gradually, he moved himself away from your pussy just so he could slam back inside, marveling on the way you trembled at the feeling, crying out his name in the prettiest of whimpers. “Your pussy is so fucking tight. Squeezing my cock so well.” 

Took you only an instant to realize that you were absolutely addicted to the feeling of his cock inside you, the heavenly push of his hardness in and out of you as he slowly started to set a pace. “Oh my god, I’m—” a pitiful hiccup interrupted you, turning your voice into a sharp cry. “That’s so good, Jungkook.”

Jungkook chuckled behind you, his thrusts starting to pick up speed. Your eyes closed in endless bliss, every part of your brain focused on the sensation of his fat length stretching you up. “Told you I’d be, not my fault you didn’t believe me,” he said, but you could tell that his confidence had started to wear itself thin — he, too, seemed to be much more focused on the way that your bodies met. “Do you touch yourself, princess?”

You almost didn’t know how to answer him, a deep heat rushing up to your cheeks. “W-What?”

“When you’re alone, baby,” he practically hissed. You were bouncing on the table then, your body jerking up and down as he fully pistoned his cock inside your heat. “Do you play with your little pussy?”

“Y-yes,” you stammered, embarrassed. “S-Sometimes.” 

“Show me how you do it,” he requested in-between huffs, lust dripping from every syllable. Jungkook spoke to you like a siren, effortlessly inducting you to comply with everything he wanted. “Come on. Don’t be shy, I wanna see you play with yourself for me.” 

You didn’t even know if what you were feeling was shyness, but there was a veil of hesitation that covered your actions. As your hands moved downwards, one of them clenching around the fabric of your dress and pulling it up while the other trailed over your mound, you felt strangely vulnerable, exposed. At the same time, you wanted to do what he asked you to, wanted him to wash you over with compliments until your mind was going blank. 

So you closed your eyes and focused on the sensation of two of your fingers coating themselves in your wetness, then their pressure on your clit. You whined at the feeling, pleasure exploding in your veins as you started to rub yourself, tracing small circles on your sensitive spot. There was no way you could ever reach that sensation again, the sweet motions of your fingers combining perfectly with the thrusts of his hard, fat cock inside you. You were doomed. 

“That’s it… just like that, baby,” Jungkook whispered, obsessed with the sensation of your walls fluttering around him. You had gotten so tight that he thought he would see heaven at any second now. “Feels good?” 

“Y-Yeah, so good...” you struggled to get out, “feels amazing, Jungkook.” 

“So perfect for me,” his praise shot straight up to your core, making you mewl under him. God, the way that you were tightening around him was going to drive him insane. “You feel so fucking good, I can’t stop fucking you.” 

Jungkook took one of his hands to your neck, using it to guide your body upwards until you had your back pressed against his chest; his hot lips assaulting your neck. The new position made it so much easier for his cock to drill inside you, reaching even deeper and hitting sweet spots you didn’t even know you had. It wasn’t long before you were moaning out, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure overtook you. 

“Just take a look at that, baby,” his voice broke you out of your hypnotized state.  “Look at you. Such a good slut, just taking everything I’m giving you, touching yourself for my cock… fuck. Could watch you like this forever.” 

You had to take a moment to understand what he was talking about, and then you saw it: the window. It stood silently across the room from you, half open, and the glass combined with the darkness of the night gave a perfect reflection of the two of you. You could see yourself, the mess you had become, as Jungkook pounded in and out of you and your fingers worked on your clit; the darkness of his hungry gaze as he followed the motions of your body against his. 

Even if you cried out at the sight, your body freezed up a little at the thought of someone walking by and seeing that private spectacle. The possibility itself was minimal — the window gave way to the side of the land, where a big, thick fence separated it from the nearby houses; most of the ground covered by large trees and bushes — but it wasn’t zero. You couldn’t even begin to imagine the humiliation that would come from being seen like that. 

He, of course, noticed your change of demeanor right away, and you could see in the faint reflection that he had smirked at that realization. “What is it? Are you worried someone is going to walk by?” Jungkook almost groaned against your ear. His cock continued to pump ferociously in and out of you, and you couldn’t even understand your own thoughts for a moment. “That someone is gonna see you get fucked like a good slut?” 

“It’s not—” a moan cut your sentence short. Not like you knew where you were heading, anyways. 

“No one is gonna see you like this, know why?” Jungkook was grunting, his fingers tightening around your throat. You cried out at the feeling, your cunt clenching around him in a way that got him fucking you even harder. “Cause this is all for me. Just for me.” 

Then he was pushing you back on the table, your chest crashing against the wooden surface and his hands yanking you by the waist. Jungkook was fucking you so hard that your worries left you as soon as they arrived, your mind a turmoil of desires and broken exclamations that didn’t give space to anything else but him. 

“You look fucking gorgeous like this, stuffed with cock,” he marveled at the sight. There was a known wave of pleasure hovering over you, ready to crash at any given moment, and you stopped rubbing yourself just so you could prolong its arrival. “Wanna see you cum for me, make a mess for me, baby.” 

The words left you in a confusing, broken order, “Jungkook, I can’t… too much… can’t...” 

“Shhh, you can,” he was slowly easing you into your orgasm, his cock drilling in and out of your pussy. Jungkook fucked like a machine, fast and precise, and you didn’t think you’d be able to forget that anytime soon. “You told me you could take it, so now you’re gonna take it. Don’t you wanna be good for me?” 

“I- I want to… I’m so close,” you cried out, pressing your forehead against the table. You didn’t know how it hadn’t broken yet, with the way that Jungkook was fucking you so mercilessly hard. “I’m so, so close.”

“Cream my cock, baby, come on,” he urged you on, his member throbbing inside you at the thought. Your legs were so weak that you knew you’d fall facedown on the floor if he wasn’t supporting your weight with his strong arms. “Be a good girl and cream my cock for me.” 

And that was it. That was all that you needed to push yourself over the edge, submerging you in ecstasy and making you squeeze him so deliciously. “J-Jungkook!” You moaned out his name again and again, unsure of how loud you were being, but also not caring as much as you should. Jungkook realized he loved hearing you call his name more than anything else. “Fuck! Oh my god!”

“That’s it, baby,” he moaned back, his thrusts a sloppy, uncoordinated mess. He was hypnotized by the view of your cunt hugging him, your wetness dripping down your thighs as you rode out the last seconds of your orgasm. “Pussy’s so fucking tight, so fucking perfect— gonna cum too.” 

You gasped out at the sensitivity that was starting to spread, every movement shaky as you tried to push yourself against him. “Yes, please.” You looked over your shoulder, meeting his hooded gaze. Jungkook looked like a god, his dark hair sweaty and messy and his lip trapped between his teeth. That image would plague you forever. “Cum inside me, please.” 

He groaned loudly, eyes closing for a second. “Fuck, that’s so fucking hot,” he hissed, chest heaving with anticipation. You knew he was close, everything pointed to that, and all that you wanted was to see him reach his high, using your body like it was just a doll for him to fuck. “Didn’t know you’d want to be filled up with cum, princess.” 

“I’m full of surprises.” You smiled — a pretty, fucked-out smile that got Jungkook grunting like a madman. “I want your cum inside me, Jungkook, please.” 

“Gonna fuck you full of my cum, don’t worry— Shit.” The sounds he was making were heavily: those breathy, high-pitched moans that echoed all around you; broken by deep grunts that had your thighs shaking. Jungkook fucked himself in you like he was meant for it, throwing his head back and closing his eyes as he finally found his orgasm. “Fuck! That’s it, fuck—”

Jungkook called out your name and mixed it with praises and curses when he came, spilling himself inside your pussy. You sighed at the feeling, taking in the blissful sensation of having his hot cum spilling out of you, dripping down your legs as he continued to thrust inside you, milking out his orgasm. 

At last, he started to wince from sensitivity. His body collided against your back, his heavy breathing fanning your neck as he tried to collect himself. “Fuck, baby,” he mumbled, “you’re amazing.” 

“You’re not so terrible yourself.” You could not help the smile that appeared on your lips, nor the way that you melted against the surface of the table, drowning in his heat. 

Still, you couldn’t stay there for much longer: it was already a miracle that no one heard the chaos going on in that room, and you weren’t trying to push your luck for the night. Especially since you had a pile of homework (and possibly — now cold — takeout) waiting for you at home. 

You raised your body, leaning against your elbows. “I have to leave,” you told him, taking one of your hands to lay on top of his tattooed one, trying to ease his grip from your waist. “Now if you could just…” 

“Shhh, shhh,” Jungkook hushed, unrelenting. He was much stronger than you, and your muscles were too weak for you to try and do much, so you eventually gave up. “Stop moving. Let me feel you around me for just a bit more.” 

You frowned. “Why?”

“I like it,” he said simply. His breath was a faint caress against the skin of your neck, and you didn’t have much fight left in you. “We all have our tastes.” 

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so weird.”

“Don’t kinkshame.” Jungkook pouted, then pressed a kiss against your shoulder. “You just begged me to fuck you in a church, remember?” 

“Yeah, I guess I don’t have much place to judge.” You laughed dryly, then looked over your shoulder. “Why is your cock still hard? How long is this gonna take?” 

Jungkook groaned, clearly annoyed. “Shut up and enjoy the moment.” 

~ 

The so-called moment lasted about two more minutes (which was kind of impressive, you thought) before Jungkook softened and slipped out of you. You hated to admit but you kind of liked the feeling of having him still inside you, completing you as his lips danced around your neck; fingers tenderly playing with your hair. You never thought Jungkook would be so gentle after fucking you like that, but you guessed that you weren’t the only one that was full of surprises. 

Jungkook, apparently, also liked to admire his work. After he had slipped out of you, he made you sit back on the table just so he could stare at his own cum dripping out of you, a glimmer of satisfaction in his dark gaze. He had pushed his white release back inside you and smirked up at you, asking, ever so kindly, for you to go home like that, filled with his cum. 

You, of course, promptly accepted it. 

“By the way,” he called when you two had already stepped out of the church, enveloped by the coldness of the night. There was only one solitary light pole illuminating his features, making him look like one of the saints in the chapel — nothing but fake advertisement, in your opinion. “Wanna know how much I got in that immunology test?”

“How much?” You asked. 

“Eighty two.” Jungkook smiled brightly then, and you found yourself joining him. “Never saw a grade so high in my life. And that counts all the times I’ve cheated too.” 

“Seems like the tutoring sessions are paying off.” You crossed your arms before your chest, the hem of your dress swirling around your knees. The night was weirdly peaceful after everything that had taken place. 

“They are.” He nodded. “I’m looking forward to the next one. Helps that my tutor is kind of a hottie too.”

You scoffed. “So I’ve heard.”  

“And, by the way?” 

“Yeah?”

“You would look better without it.” He pointed at your dress, a sly smile already sprouting on his lips. “Hope to see it next time.”

“Good night, Jungkook.” You rolled your eyes, already turning around — yeah, like there would ever be a next time. 

~ 

BAD INFLUENCE COLLECTION

TAGLIST: 

@taehyungieskith​ @fan-ati--c​ @btstrasht​ @crazy4myself​ @sashimi-mochi @ft-multi @kooafraid @dianaaviny @ggukkieland @cryinginmypromdress @kissestothesky

[iguessilovebakugou]

Early Morning ||  Bakugou x Mom!Reader {Request}

It was about 2:30 in the morning when you realized Haku hadn’t found his way into your room.  

It’s a bleary thought that occurred to you suddenly when you became aware but hadn’t yet opened your eyes.  For a moment, you tried to pretend you could go back to sleep and just relish in the undisturbed rest and relaxation after a hard day of being a fully functional adult.

Haku had never been really great about sleeping through the night.  It wasn’t uncommon for him to wake up with a nightmare or to cry out for a glass of water.  It only seemed to get worse when you and Bakugou had made the decision he should start sleeping in a big boy bed.  You had hoped that by letting him pick out the style he wanted, he would be more open to sleeping in the bed by himself.  It didn’t really work out as planned, but when did it ever?  

Without fail, for the past few weeks, he would find his way into your room and squeeze between you and Bakugou, clinging to your back and generally kicking his poor father in whatever body part was in reaching distance.  It usually ended with Bakugou creating a wall of pillows, separating the two of you from his self made oasis of fluff and contempt. 

A chill ran over your bare arms and you could hear the soft sound of water against glass.  It was raining, the drops pattering against the window lazily.  Maybe that’s what originally woke you up, you weren’t entirely sure.  Maybe it was your maternal instinct screeching that you had been too comfy for too long, so obviously, something was terribly, horribly wrong.  Either way, sleep was now out of the question until you figured out where your little rugrat was.  

When you finally were able to open your eyes, you took a moment to glance around the room, blinking away the lingering remnants of sleep. You looked over to the far wall, watching the storm clouds rolling through.  The window had been left open, the navy blue curtains gently blowing against the wind. This was another thing that alarmed you, causing you to sit up further.  Bakugou always closed the windows when he got home late.  

You twisted around to find his spot of the bed remained undisturbed.  You gently touched the sheets, pulling away when you were sure no warmth came from them.  Did something happen?  You reached for your phone, unlocking it and checking your messages.  No missed calls, no missed texts - nothing from him or the other Heroes at the agency.  Was he just not home yet?

You lifted the comforter off your legs and slipped out of bed.  Luckily, your window faced the driveway so you should be able to see his car.

It was dark, but the clouds seemed to provide their own bit of light.  You blinked through the rain, focusing on the orange tinted street lights that dotted your road.  The trees swayed in the wind and the windchimes gently clinked in the distance.  And there, nestled in the driveway, was Katsuki’s car.  So he made it home safe.  Good - his tires needed changed before the bad weather rolled in.  You made a mental note to do that before summer ended.  

Well, at least he was home.  But if that was the case, why hadn’t he gone to bed?  And why hadn’t Haku made his way into your room - especially at this hour.

You shut the window before making your way out into the hall.

You didn’t bother to turn on the lights - if Katsuki had fallen asleep on the couch, the light would surely wake him up.  You moved quietly, keeping an ear out for any sounds.  It wasn’t until you passed Haku’s room that you stopped.

The light from his bedside table cast a soft glow over the room.  Toys were scattered all across the floor - from blocks to hand me down All Might dolls.  It was a mess of colors, wood, and plastic.  And there in the middle of the room was a black duffle bag, opened with a stuffed whale peaking out from inside black, red, and green clothes.

Movement from the bed drew your attention there.  Your eyes fell on the sleeping face of Haku and Bakugou - your boys.  Bakugou’s feet were dangling off the bed while Haku was happily curled around his father’s form.  They were a mess of sleeping limbs, of messy blonde hair and soft snores.  There was a peace hanging over the room, safety that explained why your son hadn’t felt the need to migrate to your bed.

You watched them for a moment longer, leaning against the doorframe.  You had never thought, in all your years, you could love anything as much as you loved those two.  No matter what on earth was going on, whatever villains or bills or unplanned events, everything seemed so...tiny compared to them.  You hadn’t realized you were smiling.  With a soft sigh, you stepped over the toys to grab the quilt from the toybox.

You took great care to make sure both of them were covered.  It would probably get cold in the morning, no need to them to feel it.  Haku didn’t move, hugging his father’s chest so tightly.  A mama’s boy he may be, but nothing would ever match up to his father.  His protector, his hero, his best friend.  He adored him, loved him with everything he had.  

You pressed your fingers to your lips, before pressing them to Haku’s forehead.  “Love you, little bug.”  You whispered, just above a breath. 

But it was enough to wake Bakugou, ever so slightly.  You felt him shift beneath you, heard the deep intake of breath as his bright red eyes darted around the room...before landing on your face.  He let a huff before closing them again, “Hey...” He rumbled.

“Hey.”  You had to stop yourself from laughing.  You rested yourself down on the edge of the bed.  “You gonna sleep in here tonight?”

“Mmm-mmm.”  He gave a weak shake of his head.  “I’ll be in...”

“Yeah?”

“Mmmhmm.”

God, he was perfect.  It hit you sometimes, at random points during the day.  When he would come home, make dinner, or just fall asleep on the couch.  Every little thing he did was magic.  

You smiled, knowing full well he was going to be here until morning.  “Okay.”  You leaned over and pressed your lips to his.  

He wasn’t so asleep that he couldn’t reciprocate.  You felt his lips press back against yours, once, twice, then three times.  It left you wanting more, but if he were to pass out in this cramped little space, you figured he was probably exhausted.  Still, it was hard to tear your eyes away from him.  “I love you.”  You whispered, gently.

He didn’t answer.  Probably asleep already.  He worked so hard to provide for you, to be the best hero he could be.  He would never admit it, but you knew he was well aware of Haku’s admiration for him.  Before, when you and him had simply been dating, Bakugou had wanted to be the hero for your standard reasons:  Money, fame, recognition, the desire to help people.  But when Haku was old enough to realize exactly what his father was?  That people loved Daddy because he was strong, because he could protect and help people, he could stop bad people who wanted to hurt them - that he would always win so he could come home to you and him.  Well...

Haku thought the world of Bakugou.  And that always seemed to make Bakugou work all the more to be the best.  To be something worthy of his son’s unconditional love and adoration.

You reached over and shut out the light, casting the room in darkness save for the Crimson Riot night light on the far side of the wall.  You used it’s little golden glow to guide your path through the mess, stopping to pick up the duffle bag on your way.  Tossing one last look over your shoulders and giving them one last smile, you moved to shut the door.

“Hey.”

You stopped, opening the door just a little bit further to peer back into the room.  Bakugo still had his eyes closed and hadn’t moved at all.  You were almost ready to turn back around when he spoke again. 

“Love you too.”

[babyboibucky]

Charming (Part 2 of Charm)

Pairing: TFATWS!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky has everything planned out for his date with you.

Word Count: 2,566

Warnings: No TFATWS spoilers here, Bucky being charming (hence the title) is a warning in itself

A/N: Ahhh you guys, thank you for all the love for Charm! I didn’t expect for that oneshot to receive so much love from everyone. Can’t thank y’all enough!!! For those who haven’t read it yet, make sure to do so before reading this!

Charm (Part 1) || MAIN MASTERLIST

Bucky nervously waited outside of your apartment building. He made sure to plan really well for this date, he didn’t want to mess up. He really liked talking to you and he wanted you to enjoy this day.

“Okay, I’m ready!” You announced as you stepped out of the building, jogging downstairs to approach him.

You looked excited, Bucky noticed. Okay, that’s good. He’s off to a good start. He found himself smiling at you, admiring this light and bright aura that radiated off of you. He could use a little light in his life and it might be too soon for Bucky to even consider it, but you seemed like the perfect girl to him.

“Hi.” Bucky greeted. “You look beautiful.” He said, eyeing you from head to toe.

Bucky’s confidence grew when your cheeks turned pink at his compliment. You thanked him and let your eyes fall to his left arm, making Bucky instantly regret his decision to forego the gloves. He should’ve worn his jacket on top of his blue henley. All his worries though eventually dissipated when you reassured him.

“Glad you aren’t wearing your gloves, it looked really uncomfortable.” You told him genuinely.

Bucky shyly let out a chuckle, “Yeah.”

“So, to the park?” You asked excitedly.

Bucky made a face, “Actually, I thought of changing our plans a bit. Hope that’s alright?” He asked hopefully.

You narrowed your eyes at him as you nodded, “Hmm, that sounds interesting. Alright then, what do you got?”

Embarrassment filled Bucky’s entire being when he whipped out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket. He glanced at you and watched your expression as he unfolded it, revealing it to be the size of a bond paper where he had written down his agenda for the day.

“Oh wow, that’s...very interesting.” You pointed out but with no malice. In fact, you were impressed.

Who would’ve thought that guys nowadays came to a date prepared? But then again, Bucky wasn’t from this time but truly appreciated how old-fashioned he still was.

Bucky rubbed his neck, “I made an itinerary but saying that out loud, it actually sounds terrible.”

“Not at all!” You were quick to defend. “I like a well-planned day. I’m not really the spontaneous type so this really works well for me.” You chuckled.

Bucky bit his lip to stop himself from smiling too wide. It seemed like the date would go pretty well, he hoped it’d last the entire day though. He couldn’t help but worry that something might happen that would throw you off. Or that he might end up saying things that you’d find offensive.

“What’s first on the itinerary?” You asked.

-

“I got a strike!” You squealed in excitement and pumped your first in the air.

Bucky took you to a bowling place and honestly, he didn’t expect for you to be so excited about it. He felt silly for outdoing himself for this first date. In fact, he researched about dating in the modern day the moment he got home after meeting you. The tips were very different, some of which he wasn’t comfortable doing. So instead of adjusting to the present, Bucky stayed true to himself.

He was going to do it his own way, no matter how traditional it seemed. This led him to writing down his ideas on a piece of paper and planning everything out properly.

“Looks like I won.” You smirked, seeing the scores flash on the television hanging on the ceiling. “Did you go easy on me? Tell me the truth, Bucky.” You warned as you looked at him suspiciously.

Bucky chortled and shook his head, “I didn’t. It’s been decades since the last time I did this so I got pretty rusty at it.” He explained.

“You ready to grab something to eat?” He asked, checking the time and seeing that it was close to three in the afternoon.

You nodded enthusiastically, “I’m starving! I mean, beating a super soldier at bowling can be really exhausting.” You teased.

Bucky smiled, “Great, but can we stop by somewhere first?”

-

Bucky felt proud at himself when he saw the astonished look in your face.

“Oh my god, is this...?” You asked, eyeing the car that Bucky drove out of a car rental shop.

“A 1942 Pontiac Torpedo.” Bucky boasted before stepping out of the car and leading you towards the front seat.

Bucky waited for you to slip in, your expression still that of utter disbelief, before closing the door and walking around to ride back inside.

“And it’s the convertible one.” He said proudly and laughed at your reaction when he brought down the roof.

“I have no words for this, Bucky. This is amazing!” You exclaimed, running your hands on the compartment and just taking in the beautiful interiors of the vintage car.

Bucky watched you with a soft look in his eyes. He felt kind of selfish for gloating at the fact that this date only proved to himself that he still is James Buchanan Barnes. Despite decades of torture and brainwashing as the Winter Soldier, he still had pieces of himself left.

But seeing you so giddy at the date that he poured so much effort in? Maybe he wasn’t so selfish after all.

“And where will you be taking us next for you to rent this lovely vehicle? I honestly don’t know what to expect after this. I’m just...I love it!” You laughed, unable to hide your excitement.

“We’re having burgers and milkshakes.” Bucky announced.

-

Bucky wanted you to experience what it was like dating in his time, so it was only right that he took you to a diner. But it wasn’t just the regular one, he took you to a drive-in diner where waitresses even wore roller derby skates.

“You just keep on outdoing yourself, Bucky. I’m speechless!” You laughed.

The waitress rolled by your car and took your orders. After she left, there was finally a moment of peace which allowed you and Bucky to have an actual conversation.

“Did you often hang out in one of these places then?” You asked.

Bucky smiled at the memories, “Yeah, used to take Steve with me. He always ended up getting mad whenever he realized that it was a set-up for a double date.”

You hummed in amusement. “You seemed really popular with the ladies, huh?”

Bucky chuckled timidly before letting out a sigh. He turned to you curiously and creased his forehead, “Why didn’t you tell me you knew who I was?” He finally asked.

You seemed surprised at his question but your features softened up almost immediately. Shrugging as if it was no big deal, you told him that you really didn’t feel the need to do so.

“Would it change anything if I told you I knew who you were?” You curiously asked.

Bucky thought for a brief moment, “I probably would’ve excused myself and left.”

“That’s what I thought.” You said. “You seemed comfortable then, I didn’t want to overwhelm you by bringing it up. Besides, I really don’t care about it. I mean, I had fun talking to you and that’s all that matters to me. Superhero or not, I do enjoy your company.”

Bucky snickered, “I don’t think superhero is the right word.”

“You’ll be surprised that a lot of people call you that.” You said, placing a hand on Bucky’s arm, squeezing it to offer him comfort.

Bucky loosened up at your touch and kept his gaze lingering on how your fingers were wrapped around his arm.

“There’s this one kid at the orphanage I volunteer at,” you said, letting go of Bucky’s arm as you adjusted your position in the car so you could turn to him. Bucky almost missed the warmth from your hand on his skin.

“I asked them to draw someone they looked up to and this is his work.” You said, bringing out your phone to show Bucky a photo of the drawing.

Bucky’s breath hitched when you handed him your phone, revealing that the kid drew a man with long brown hair and a metal arm. He used black and gold to color the metal arm, not silver. It didn’t even have the red star on it. When Bucky looked up at you, he saw the most genuine smile he had ever seen.

“I asked him why he chose you and he said that he liked how Captain America’s best friend fought alongside him. For a kid his age, he knew a lot about your history too. He’s a huge fan.” You laughed.

Bucky’s eyes almost brimmed with tears. He was unable to believe that a kid would look up to him, consider him a superhero. All this time he had been seeing himself as a villain still, the bad guy. Someone who would have a hard time redeeming himself. You made him think twice about it, that maybe he had been too harsh on himself.

“You should come with me to the orphanage some time. The kids will love you, Bucky. It’s not that hard to do so.” You said softly, lifting your hand up to fix a strand of Bucky’s hair that was out of place.

It was a beautiful moment between the two of you. Bucky felt vulnerable but safe, like you’d keep him safe. Not from danger but from his very own destructive thoughts. Whenever he loses control of his mind, whenever it wanders into the darkest parts of his past, Bucky tends to self-destruct. And he almost wandered there but you were quick to pull him back to the surface.

“What are you thinking of?” You asked when you noticed that Bucky was just staring at you.

Bucky’s gaze fell onto your lips and then back at your eyes, “Thinking about whether I should just go for it now.”

“Go for what?” You blinked.

Bucky slowly leaned in but was immediately startled when the waitress arrived with your orders.

-

After the diner, Bucky drove to the park where the two of you walked around while talking about well, anything. He learned more about you and this time, he didn’t have to lie about anything whenever you asked him. In fact, Bucky got really comfortable opening up about his life in the 40’s, he even talked about his family.

The two of you talked more until the sun set and the next thing you knew was that Bucky brought you to a drive-in theater and bought pizza to cap off the date.

-

It was a little past ten in the evening when Bucky drove you home. He opened the car door for you and nervously fidgeted with the piece of paper in his back pocket.

“So did you tick off everything on the itinerary?” You asked.

Bucky let out the fakest laugh because no, he hasn’t ticked off everything on his list. There was one more thing that he planned to do at the very end of the date. He had been confident about it, especially after how much you enjoyed the date in its entirety. But, now standing outside your apartment building and staring at you nervously, he wasn’t sure whether he had enough courage to pull this off.

“I uhh...well...” Bucky stammered. “Did you enjoy?” He asked again, just to be sure.

“I am offended that you had to ask because I thought my face was unable to hide at how much I did!” You laughed.

“Thank you for giving me the 1940s experience. I love it. I really do, it’s...it’s been a while since I last went on a date that I really enjoyed.” You shyly admitted, biting your lip and looking up at Bucky through your lashes.

Bucky’s breath got caught in his throat as he gazed down at you. You looked really beautiful, no matter how simple you looked. He wanted to take you out to another date, maybe tomorrow. Or the next day perhaps, actually, Bucky wanted to be with you every single day.

You were so kind and bubbly, you offered so much light to his darkness. He loved how your hopeful attitude rubbed off on him, he badly needed it. And he loved how you made him feel...himself. He was just Bucky Barnes, a guy navigating through the modern times and finding his place in this world. And it would seem like an easy task with you by his side.

“Well, I guess this is it.” You said. “Thanks again, Bucky. I really did enjoy.”

Bucky was surprised when you stepped closer to him for a hug. Feeling your arms wrap around his waist and your hair brush against his chin gave him the boost of confidence he needed to finally check off the last on his date itinerary.

By the time he convinced himself to do it, you already stepped back and bid Bucky good night.

Bucky proved to himself the other night that he still has his charm from back then. And tonight, he was going to prove that his charm was going to sweep you off of your feet.

“Wait, one last thing.” Bucky said, reaching out for your wrist.

He tugged you forward making you squeal, and then wrapped his metal arm around your waist before swooping you down for a kiss.

Bucky wasn’t sure how you would react to his kiss but he could no longer hold himself back. It could either make or break his friendship with you, but Bucky just had to. And it wasn’t just to prove something to himself, he’d been wanting to kiss you all throughout the day. He would have already, at the diner, if only the waitress didn’t interrupt his little moment with you.

He almost panicked when your lips remained still, but it all went away when he felt your hands wrap around his shoulders before finally kissing him back. Bucky’s lips curled into a smile against yours as he slowly straightened, bringing you back up before pulling away.

You panted against his lips, your hands sliding down to rest on Bucky’s chest as his landed on your hips.

“Was that...was that a part of your list?” You breathlessly asked.

“Yes. Almost went for it at the diner but I guess the universe wanted for me to stick to the schedule.” He grinned.

You threw your head back in laughter, “So that’s what you meant by that!”

Bucky laughed in agreement and held your face in his metal hand, noticing how you weren’t thrown off. Instead, you turned your face to even press a kiss on his palm.

“Was I too fast? Kissing you on the first date?” He asked, caressing your face.

You shook your head, “You did wait until the end of the date to do so, I guess your timing was just right.”

“And...how was it?” Bucky meekly asked, almost afraid that he might have sucked given that this was his first kiss in decades.

Smiling, you leaned in again to give him a quick peck on the lips. A reassurance, something to melt Bucky’s worries away.

“What can I say? James Bucky Barnes, you are one charming man.”

Now, Bucky was a hundred percent sure that he still has it in him. And he made a mental note to boast to Yori how his first date with you went.

-

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar  @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @i’m-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @tcc-gizmachine @prettyintopeerpressure​ @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit​ @bloodhon3yx​ @dressed-in-prada​ @lizette50​ @​thatfangirl42

Sign up on my tag list here - https://forms.gle/b5haFXewSKqnXxxh7

Some tags aren’t walking ugh I’m so sorry to all those that tumblr failed to tag!

[from-the-clouds]

Kiss Me More (Part IIII) - Zemo/Reader

Masterlist | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | 

Summary: Reader ponders the decision they made after meeting Zemo in Riga. Series now complete!

Words: 5.2k

Warnings: Kissing, marijuana & alcohol abuse, heavy angst & depression, small reference to suicide, implied casual sex, yearning

A/N (also check out A/N at end when finished reading): This is it, everyone! I was going to end this completely differently originally, but after some thinking --  and some light peer pressure from ya’ll, I did something a little different. I did fight with this part the most out of all of them, so I hope it’s still good. Please enjoy. And thank you for all the love on this series, it’s been so fun to write! Also I was listening to this song while writing this.

---

The incessant buzz of her alarm clock jolted her out of her dreamless sleep. Fumbling in the dark, she slapped the top of it, hitting the snooze button and looking at the interface with bleary eyes. 

4:00 A.M. It stared, indifferent, back at her tired face. 

She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut and lamenting, bargaining, half expecting the clock to turn back time when she opened her eyes again. Unfortunately, it did not. With a huff, she threw back the covers and stretched, disturbing the orange cat that slept in the empty spot next to her where her husband used to lay. 

Snorting, the cat lifted its head to look at her as she climbed out of bed before curling back up in a ball where her feet had been. 

“Don’t mind me, just getting ready for work so I can feed us,” she said, grumpily, then in a moment of repentance, affectionately scratching her behind the ears. 

She had always been a night owl, so she didn’t think it would be possible to ever get used to waking this early. No human was meant to function at this time. It was the one part of the job she hated most. The rest of it was manageable, though it was still work. 

Setting about her morning routine, she showered, made coffee, and donned her uniform. Eating a day-old bagel and nursing her coffee on her tiny balcony, she looked out over the darkened horizon. It was far too early to even enjoy a sunrise. 

There was a saying, time heals all wounds. After her husband died, she’d heard it a lot. It was a saying she had come to find true. But it’d been well over a year since she’d left Helmut, alone in that swanky hotel room, and it still hurt like it was yesterday. 

“I understand,” he’d murmured, and she felt the ghost of his kiss on her forehead, arms around her waist, even now. She shivered, not from the chill of the morning air.

She’d left her old life behind, all of it. Sam and Bucky, too, about a month after their time in Riga. She couldn’t look them in the eyes after what she’d done.

But, she was proud of what they’d accomplished. They’d defeated the Flag Smashers. Bucky seemed happier, more at peace. Sam had accepted his role as the new Captain America. John Walker seemed to have faded into irrelevancy. All the loose ends had been tied up in a pretty little bow.

Except for hers.

Which is why she moved, sold all the stuff in her tiny NYC apartment, and packed her car full with what she couldn’t bear to part with, some photos and momentos from a different lifetime. Her car didn’t stop until she hit the Atlantic Ocean, on an island just south of Charleston. All but undiscovered by tourists, the residents in the sleepy beach town kept to themselves, and she could go about her life in peace, undisturbed. 

She couldn’t just run away from her problems, that was why she’d left Zemo. It seemed counterintuitive, but in her mind, it made sense. The problems would catch up to her, like they always had. The dissatisfaction she had with her life, with herself, was always going to return. And she knew she had to be alone to deal to face it head on. Like a wounded animal, crawling into the woods, there were only two ways things could end here; either she’d heal and come out stronger, or eventually she’d die. And so far, the healing part wasn’t going great. 

Each day was a matter of convincing herself that she’d made the right choice. Especially now, as her eyes burned, fighting to stay open against the inviting embrace of sleep. 

Despite it being dark outside, the bakery was bustling already when she walked in the service entrance. It smelled amazing, as always. Sweet and warm, a cacophony of aromas, baking bread, fresh coffee, sugar.

She set about the usual preparations to open up, packaging orders for the regulars, sweeping the floor, wiping down countertops. Once the place was open, she didn’t have to work the register, as she prepared batches of dough in the back for proofing, to be baked the next day. 

Before, she’d been a terrible cook, but she’d grown comfortable in the kitchen after learning to bake. There was something satisfying about working with her hands, at this point she’d memorized all the recipes and the work became second nature to her. Now, she always had fresh bread and pastries in her kitchen, although they were the slightly disformed, ones the shop owners deemed too ugly for the glass display cases. Daylight was cherished, even if she barely saw it inside the shop. Because while she was awake, busy with work, her thoughts remained pleasant.

At night it was the hardest. Things got quiet, lonely. When she got home, she poured herself a drink. Cheap whiskey, the kind that came in a plastic bottle and burned on it’s way down. She had never been much of a drinker before, she was now. Her thoughts were more manageable after a drink. Especially because she was usually thinking of Helmut. 

It was often that she wondered what he may be doing, and those thoughts usually ended with the image of him lying in the sun, poolside, on some island in the Pacific Ocean, drinking expensive champagne with a supermodel. It wasn’t a particularly comforting thought to her, and yet she was plagued by some variation of it every night. 

Sometimes, she’d humor herself, and imagine what they might be doing had she decided to stay with him. Unfortunately, thinking of that was more upsetting. She wanted it, selfishly, though she wasn’t willing to admit it.

When she was younger, it had been so easy to block out the pain, to just press forward, no matter what. Much to her dismay, it didn’t get easier as she got older. Years of watching those she loved in pain, years of being in pain had taken a toll on her resilience. She wasn’t the strong woman she once was, she was weak.

That night, one drink had turned into two, into three. Wallowing in her own self-pity had become second-nature, she felt like Hamlet, lamenting her circumstances, a constant turmoil monologuing in her brain. But this night felt particularly worse, for some reason. 

For the record, she had been doing better. But she was all-too-familiar with how grief worked, pulling her back down the dark side of the mountain, where she was forced to fight her demons over and over again. At some point, they were going to win.

It was a funny thing. Despite the loss of her husband, who she had loved dearly, his death had been easier to accept. Final. She couldn’t bring him back. Helmut on the other hand, was still out there, an open wound that could never fully heal.

Before she knew it, she was four drinks in, at her bedside table, fumbling through the bottom drawer, until she found what she was looking for.

Back on her couch, she stared at the card in her hand, the hastily written phone number on it, an international line. Helmut had given it to her, the day she left, stuck it in her purse while she wasn’t looking. She didn’t discover it until she had returned home.

It had been months since she last did this, pulled the card out of its hidden place in her drawer, placed it on the coffee table in front of her next to her phone, and considered dialing it. It had been a frequent occurrence when she first moved here, when she couldn’t find a job and spent most of her mornings either hungover, or stumbling home from rendezvous with men whose names she wouldn’t remember, and she wouldn’t care to, because there was only one man she really wanted. She could only hope he’d be as close as one call away. But she never called. 

I mean really, he’d probably moved on by this point. If she was going to call, she should have done it months ago, when there was more of a chance that he’d give a fuck. 

She considered this a setback. But she’d made her way halfway through the cheap bottle of whiskey, it was the drunkest she’d been in ages and she was curious. She didn’t know whose number it was, who’d be on the other end of the line, and never knew why Helmut would want her to have it to begin with.  

At this point, she wasn’t capable of good decision making. In general, it hadn’t always been her strong suit. So why did doing the right thing matter now? It didn’t, she decided. 

Taking a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle, she ensured she wouldn’t remember what happened next, at least not clearly. 

The phone rang twice before someone picked up. “Hello?” she didn’t recognize the sound of the man on the other end of the line immediately, so she didn’t answer. All she had wanted to do was maybe hear Helmut’s voice, he didn’t even need to know it was her that was calling. 

“Hello?” the man repeated, and she realized it wasn’t completely unfamiliar. The grandfatherly, comforting tone wasn’t her former lover, but someone close to him. And she supposed that wasn’t terrible.

“Is this Oeznik?” she asked. 

“It is,” he said after some hesitation. “May I ask who’s speaking?”

Truthfully, she was shocked she’d allowed herself to go this far. This was a bad idea. If she stopped now she could get off without doing any real damage. But just as she was about to hang up, she heard her name, muffled, on the other end of the line. 

“H-How do you know it’s me?” She raised the phone back to her ear. 

“I thought you sounded familiar,” Oeznik chuckled, low and soft. “Helmut told me you might call.”

“He did?” she squeaked. “Yes, although it was awhile ago. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I uh….I….well….” she managed. “I guess I just….I guess I wanted to see how he was doing.”  Her words flowed together like the liquor she was drinking, she knew she sounded drunk.

“Good, since we last spoke,” he said. “I don’t hear from him much these days...maybe every couple months. As you might imagine, he’s trying to keep a low profile for the time being.”

She nodded. Perhaps Zemo was as lonely as she was, hidden away in some cabin in the middle of nowhere. Though she had to imagine it looked much nicer than her current place, and maybe he had better company than a portly orange cat that begrudgingly liked him. “I understand.”

“How have you been?” he asked.

It sounded stupid, but she realized it was the first time someone had asked her that. Sincerely. Checked up on her. Even if she was the one who had dialed the number in the first place.

“I’m good,” her voice cracked. “Just keeping busy.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said. “Helmut always had such nice things to say about you.”

“Really?” she couldn’t stop herself. 

“Of course, would you like me to let him know you called?” 

“No, no...I wouldn’t want to bother him,” she choked on her words, something catching in her throat.

“Are you sure you’re alright, dear?”

“I’m okay, I just….” she felt tears prick at the back of her eyes, lowering her voice, since she didn’t think her normal register would come out as anything other than a whine. “I think I made a horrible mistake.”

“What’s the matter? What did you do?”

She shook her head, shaking the tears loose and now they were lining her lashes, threatening to spill over. However, she managed to make the next words she spoke come out clearly. “Nothing, I just...it’s really stupid, I really shouldn’t have called.”

He sighed on the other end of the line, and she felt like, despite her attempt at staying calm, he could still see that she wasn’t somehow. “It seemed Helmut was awfully sweet on you,” Oeznik’s words next came hesitantly, calculated. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but he told me if you ever called, to help you with whatever you might need, no matter the ask.”

Oh God, what had she done? A sob left her, one she couldn’t control, and she clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle any more. Her tears were flowing freely now, tracking down her cheeks and along her chin. She wiped at them clumsily, clearing her throat. 

“That’s very kind of him, but you can’t help me. I’m so sorry to bother you, please just forget I even called,” she forced a smile on her face so that hopefully he could hear it. “Goodbye.”

She hung up, horrified, and within seconds had deleted the call log from her phone. She’d been thoughtful enough not to memorize the number, and the lighter she used whenever she smoked sat in front of her. Without a second though, she burned the card, watching the paper blacken and disintegrate, until it was all but a pile of soot on her Wal-Mart coffee table. It was a fair punishment, and ensured she’d never get the chance to embarrass herself like that again. 

And then she cried, sobbed into a pillow next to her, until her tears ran dry and she wore herself out, falling asleep on the couch alone. When she’d wake the next morning, the only evidence of her actions would be a throbbing headache and a dead phone. 

She wouldn’t remember the call.

----

Life went on, as it always did. It had been about a month, and since that night she grew more indifferent, remembered how to ignore heartbreak. For now, she was stuck in her purgatory, waking up before the sun and falling asleep before it set, smoking joints, drinking cheap liquor, and going on the occasional date with people who she didn’t really like, tourists who would leave after a week and wanted temporary company. 

Despite everything, she partly believed things were getting better. Maybe they weren’t, but the possibility that someday they would seemed feasible. And that was enough, for now. 

On her days off, she’d walk to the beach and lay on a blanket, reading a book until the sun dipped below the horizon and lit up the sky in hues of pinks and purples. She found a record player at an antique store and began collecting vinyls, listening to obscure artists whose albums she found in the $1 bin. It wasn’t so bad. Life wasn’t so bad. 

She took a shower after work. Tomorrow was her off day, and she wasn’t sure what she had planned besides maybe watching a movie and getting stoned. Maybe she’d try going to the beach. The weather was getting warmer, and she could even go swimming if the water wasn’t too cold. 

Exhausted from her day of work, she laid down in her bed, still in her robe, her hair wrapped in a towel around her head. The sun was setting outside, the windchimes she’d hung outside slowly clanging together, birds singing in the warm spring air. Her cat hopped on the bed, offered an affectionate trill and curled up at her side, purring, in a rare display of affection. A cool breeze drifted through the open window. And for the first time in over a year, she felt content. Closing her eyes, she savored the moment, committed it to memory, so she could recall it the next time she was drunk-crying in front of her TV. 

She fell asleep slowly, so slowly that when she woke, startled by something in her kitchen clattering to the floor, it felt like she hadn’t even been sleeping at all. The clock next to her red 11:31 p.m. and it was pitch dark outside, the cool breeze from before had grown stronger and her bedroom curtains were billowing, wind whistling loudly through the apartment. Her cat had left her side, and she frowned, shivering in the sudden cold.

Pulling the towel off her head, she made her way over to the window with the intention to close it, sleepily, lazily, until she heard something else. A creak in the floorboard. A heavy footstep in her kitchen. That wasn’t just her cat. 

Some kind of muscle memory was ignited then, an ancient instinct that called to her from a different lifetime. Darting across the room, the gun she kept was in her hand, stealthily pulled from its hiding spot beneath her mattress. Truth be told, she never thought she would’ve needed it. Anyone looking for her would be smart enough to kill her in her sleep, not be so foolish as to wake her first with their heavy footsteps. 

A dark silhouette stalked through her kitchen, moving slowly. It was a man, she assumed, based on his broader figure, and lack of coordination. In her experience, women were often stealthier without trying. He took another step, the floor creaking below him, shuffling on bargain linoleum. 

Staying low, she crept forward, ducking stealthily behind furniture, avoiding the spots on the floor she knew made noise. It didn’t appear the intruder had a weapon, in fact, it seemed he was bumbling about, searching for something. A burglar, and a bad one at that. An island full of vacation homes owned by rich doctors and they thought they’d find valuables in her shitty apartment?

It wasn’t until she was standing directly behind him, gun aimed at his head, that she finally spoke up. 

“I believe you’ve come to the wrong place,” she said flatly. “Whatever you’re looking for, it’d be in your best interest to leave empty-handed.”

Her eyes were still adjusting to the dark, but the intruder froze, arms slowly raising in defeat, empty-handed, as he turned around to face her. In the dingy room, she couldn’t make out any of his features, could only see that he was clad in all black.

“Unfortunately, liebling, that wasn’t my intention.” 

She would’ve recognized that voice anywhere, though the endearment he’d used was enough to clue her in. Hitting the lightswitch with her free hand, she was face to face with the man she’d spent the past year trying to purge from her memory, Helmut Zemo. 

Her gut twisted, her mind raced, but the only thing currently bubbling up, over the surface of every other emotion was the pure, seething rage left behind in the wake of fearing for her life.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” she stepped towards him, gun still raised, fuming. 

“Hey, hey!” he staggered backwards, hands raised, eyes averted. 

“I thought you were a fucking robber!” she hissed. “I thought you were here to kill me!”

“Lower your voice,” he scolded. “You’re going to wake your neighbors.”

Taking a deep breath, she realized she still had her gun trained on him and she lowered it, clicking the safety and discarding the weapon on the countertop. “What the fuck?” she asked. “What the hell is wrong with you? What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I didn’t know you had such a mouth on you,” he smirked, but she wasn’t finished, and she glowered at him. 

“You broke into my apartment!” she growled.

“I had to be sure I was in the right place.”

“Yeah? You couldn’t have knocked first?”

He nodded, eyes trailing down to her hands, which were trembling, she hadn’t even realized. He seemed to understand what he’d done then, and she flexed her fingers, eyes locking with his. “I suppose...you may be right,” he said, surrendering.

She felt the rage subsiding as she took in his appearance. He looked not so different from the last time she’d seen him, except a fair amount of stubble covered his jawline in a short beard. He was still devastatingly handsome. Zemo’s dark eyes, filled with longing, drank her in, tilting his head as his gaze shifted to her lips. It was like she could read his mind, she knew what he wanted, what he was thinking. And her body was going to betray her if he kept it up.

Despite everything, she was still upset. Upset and embarrassed, as the light was doing an unflattering expose of her tiny, cluttered apartment, full of mismatched furniture and water-damaged wallpaper that her landlord refused to replace. It probably gave the prison cells that Helmut had spent years in a run for their money, and was in stark contrast to every other aspect of his life.

“What’s this?” he asked, gesturing to the empty liquor bottles on her countertop, stowed in her trash can. “Have you been drinking?”

“Not tonight,” she quipped, on guard. Had to be. As much as some old instinct told her to throw herself into his arms, press her lips to the underside of his jaw, and let him envelope her in the comfort of his embrace, she knew she couldn’t.

“Hmm,” he brushed past her, frowning, looking disappointed, as he made his way to her living room. 

“How did you find me?” she asked, eyeing him wearily.

“I’m a wanted man, I trace every call that comes into my estate,” he said over his shoulder. 

Helmut was taking inventory of the cramped space, staring at the photos she’d hung in a collage on the wall behind her couch, with a few watercolors painted by her late husband. One in particular, that he was focused on now, was from her wedding. Of all the memories she chose to hang, this one was her fondest, her former partner was all dark curly hair falling into deep blue eyes, and she was the portrait of a blushing bride, wearing a dopey love-drunk smile, gazing at him, ignoring the camera. 

“You looked so beautiful on your wedding day,” he said, turning over his shoulder to look at her. He was so out of place here, standing in her living room, for a moment she thought he might be a hallucination, some physical manifestation of the heartbreak she’d experienced. “Although that doesn’t surprise me.”

She flushed, suddenly self-conscious in her thin black robe and still-damp hair. It occurred to her that she wasn’t looking her best, which made this whole situation that much more disconcerting. However, the compliment disarmed her slightly, and the anger she felt began to dissipate, slowly. She was going to offer him something to drink until her cat, who had been absent through the chaos, suddenly jumped up on the back of the couch and promptly hissed at him in an attempt to defend her territory.

“Pumpkin, be nice,” she said, although it was mostly to placate Helmut. Pumpkin never listened to her. 

Helmut let her sniff his hand, and she was stunned when the cat rubbed her face against it. Of course, Pumpkin would like him of all people. That made sense. Then again, she supposed it made them not so different. He turned away to look at the rest of the room. “I see you haven’t kicked that bad habit you told me about,” he gestured at the ashtray full of roaches on the coffee table. 

“Did you just come to my place to insult me?” she asked, putting her hands on her lips and feigning confidence. She could’ve rolled over and cried and told him how much she missed him, how many nights she’d spent crying over him, and while all of it was true, she felt indignation was the better option for her self-preservation.

“That’s a good question,” Helmut turned to face her now, hands in the pockets of the leather jacket he was wearing. Completely inappropriate for the weather here, but he didn’t seem to notice, or care. “Why do you think I’m here?” he asked.

She shrugged, feigning indifference. “I don’t know, but you shouldn’t be.”

He snorted, his frustration evident, and she saw a glimpse of the man that so many feared, the side that had earned him his dangerous reputation, that had him locked away in a high-security prison for nearly a decade. “I didn’t come all this way for nothing, draga, we’re going to have it out.”

“Fine,” she said, lacing as much venom as she could into her words to prepare herself. “Then get on with it.”

He stared her down, and the expression her wore startled her, something sparkled in his eyes, mischief, relief maybe? It was insulting. Like he didn’t take her seriously. But there was something else there, too, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but it was wiped from his visage before it registered.

The tension in the room dissipated slightly when Zemo sat on the arm of the worn couch she’d bought from a yard sale, and she winced. “I spoke to Oeznik the other day,” he said flatly, snorting, eyes focused on a stain on one of the rugs she owned. “He told me he had the pleasure of speaking to a friend of mine about a month ago.”

Frowning, she tilted her head, her eyes meeting Helmut’s. Something in her brain sparked a memory she’d once dismissed as a dream after a particularly bad night of drinking.

“He was concerned, you see, because this friend didn’t seem to be in the best state of mind,” Helmut rose from the arm of the couch, stalking forward slowly, and she couldn’t move backwards, not even if she wanted to, as he could pin her easily against the front door. His voice grew louder, faster as he went on. “He said she was crying, slurring her words, he told me he thought maybe she might be-” Helmut cut himself off abruptly and closed his eyes, clenching one of his fists, a look of distress on his face as he took in a terse breath. “I won’t finish that thought, but you’re a smart girl, you can imagine what I’m getting at.”

Swallowing hard, the phone call came back to her in pieces, the tears, sobbing on the phone to a man she hardly knew. It was the night she finally admitted to herself she’d made a mistake, even though she’d already known it, deep down when she left him in the hotel room. 

“Please forgive me for breaking in tonight,” Helmut said. “But I couldn’t bear the thought of you not answering the door, I needed to see with my own eyes that you were okay.”

Exhaling through her nose, she looked at the floor. “It’s not like that. I had too much to drink.” she said, keeping her voice as steady as possible. “It was just a bad night.”

“Then tell me, what was the horrible mistake you made?” he asked, stepping closer. He was close to her, now. So close. And his proximity made everything more difficult.

God, if only she could remember exactly what she’d said, the only thing that came to her were the emotions, desperation, sadness, grief. It was all too much, and he was threatening to bring them all back to destroy her again. 

“I shouldn’t have called,” she said, shaking her head. “And I’m sorry. What do you want me to say? What do you want from me?”

“What do I want from you?” He asked, tilting his head, his eyebrows pulling together. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? How hard it was to sit on a plane when all I wanted to do was be here? With you?” His hand rose to cup her cheek, stopping just short of her face when she flinched away from his touch.

“Please stop,” she managed, the burn of tears behind her eyes almost menacing. The last thing she needed was to cry in front of him. “You’re undoing everything.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked. 

“You’re….you’re here,” she murmured weakly, wetness seeping, glossing over her pupils. “I only have so much capacity for pain right now, if you touch me now, you’ll ruin everything.”

No one ever had this kind of hold on her, she’d never bent her rules to appease anyone else, and she’d gone toe to toe with super soldiers. He was just a man, and yet, he terrified her. 

“You really want me to leave?”

She couldn’t answer, but one tear escaped, sliding down her cheekbone, and she sniffled. 

“I’m not the one who did this to you,” his thumb, swiped along her face gently, wiping it away. He’d touched her, just barely, and she was reeling. 

“I know,” she stuttered, gasping. “I know it was me, but I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“You are so stubborn.” His expression softened as he looked upon her, his thumb tracing underneath her jaw, tilting her head upwards to look at him. Malleable, she obliged. “I’ve thought about you everyday since the night we spent together. You’ve plagued me. That can’t be a coincidence. Are you really happier this way? You must be honest with me.”

She shook her head, blinking out fresh tears. “No, I’m not. I just thought...by the time I realized I made the wrong choice, you’d have moved on. People like us don’t get to be happy.”

“Says who?”

How could she refuse him anymore? This would continue to go on until she gave in. And from the beginning, she wanted to give in. There was no use in fighting the inevitable. The small point of contact -- his hand on her chin -- radiated impressive warmth, and she could feel every part of herself being attracted to him, quelling some ache deep within her. 

Reaching up, she clutched at Helmut’s palm, which didn’t last long, because he pulled her into his arms, nestling her head underneath his chin. She melted into his embrace, finding solace in the warmth of his solid frame. 

“Come home with me,” he coaxed softly. 

“I will,” she murmured, surrendering to the comfort of his presence. “But you have to let me bring Pumpkin.”

He chuckled, warm and amiable, the vibration of his chest echoing in her own. “Of course, you’ll bring Pumpkin,” he murmured into her hair. Oh, how she had missed hearing him laugh. They could’ve stayed that way for hours, and she would’ve been content, but he pulled away, hands on either side of her face as he studied her.

Unable to hold back any longer, she leaned in to kiss him. It was chaste at first, all the memories of her last night with him came flooding back quickly when he parted his lips to deepen the kiss, but she didn’t want that quite yet, just needed a moment to process this. The simple comfort of being held by him, kissed by him, was more than enough for now. He’d been waiting for this, she could assume in the way that he responded, pulling her impossibly close so she was engulfed in him.

Her stomach flipped, a warmth blossoming in her chest as he pulled away, their foreheads touching. “Oh, I missed you,” she sighed, shivering as his beard tickled her neck, his mouth on her sensitive skin.

“And I, you,” he murmured. His eyes studied her, carefully, up close, and for the first time since meeting him, she really let him see her, teary-eyed and vulnerable.

She would never let him go again. 

---

A/N: So here we are! I know it’s been a ride, but I’m really excited for these two. However, I don’t feel like I’m done writing for Zemo yet. If ya’ll have any headcanons, thoughts, questions, requests, etc, feel free to drop them in my ask box or shoot me a DM. I’d love to talk more about him. I also would be down to write more oneshots based around this series, because I am sort of like….okay, they obviously have a connection, but they don’t know that much about each other, and I may or may not have a light future already mapped out for them. I might do an epilogue at some point even. But if you have anything you’d like to add, let me know!

Taglist: @juice-1981  @sapphiredreamer26  @tatooineisdry  @marvelsvision @spookycereal-s @trelaney @fireghost-x @booksarekindaneat  @thunderingbats  @felicityofbakerstreet @takacsgram @mischiefmanaged71 @fanfictionedagain @merelyhooper @gyllord @mundaytuesday @friday18eo  @lovegood7553  @adara-wolfhart @a-djarin @farawaywasteland @sky-writes-stuff @fuckinglittlekitten @katyasrussianaccent @agent-jbarnes  @neoarchipelago @pattispunk @kpopnena @purebloodwitch @spookyconsultingcriminal @msmarvelwrites @professorrw @lazyradeecal @captainrexstan @notyourfuckingbusinesss @felicityofbakerstreet @unlikekiana @maeday-18 @friendly-letters @fandom-lover-4 @meefal @queenfairyfangirl @gogomonbebelf @scullys-alienpussy @the-multiverse-approach @sky-writes-stuff @safiakillspop @eggofhumiliation @originalcollectorsaladsstuff @archangelproperty @friday18eo @jayden-rose-leon @actuallyanita @mayhemmachine @kermuddgen @zadiewrites @pach-inks @theokatz @reichelhache @autumnsoidier @mischief-siriusly-managed @danaaeaa @joey-motorola @singlemomslayer @stevesbestgirl @dinna-fashh @popriskra @xaanyhs @adorable-punk-superheroes​

[yandere-sins]

i just binged-read all of your BNHA works and omg... 🥲 you don’t understand the rollercoaster of emotions i just went through! can i please request a story of Kirishima noticing that Bakugou has a crush on his darling. then when Kirishima confronts Bakugou about it, things get heated/physical? keep up the good work, i love your writings! 🥰💗

Thank you so much for reading through them, I am so glad you enjoyed them! :D And thanks for requesting ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««     

“I don’t fucking know either!”

Loud. Terribly loud were the two voices shouting at each other in your room, the little bit of safe haven you owned, entirely disrupted by the two men arguing. It was only made worse by the fact that they were arguing about you rather than anything else, their attention involuntarily always coming back to you after every sentence.

You had long ducked away, slipped into the area between the wall and your bed, the only place you had claimed as yours ever since you were forced to live here. It was barely spacious enough for you to breathe in, but it was too small to force you out of as well, which you always appreciated. On most days, Kirishima would treat you kindly and with a strange understanding despite the situation and relationship you two had.

But just as quickly did his mood change, his tendencies to demand more than you were willing to give being a constant point of stress between you two. Hiding yourself back here was the closest to some privacy you had, and now than ever, you just wanted to disappear from this pitiful existence. You didn’t even want to hear about what they were talking, let alone witness how the conversation would go.

“Fuck,” Bakugou groaned loudly, rubbing his hands over his face. “Of all the people...”

“Yes. Of all the people, it just had to be my partner you fell in love with,” Kirishima hissed back, equally angered. You couldn’t even pinpoint for how long the two had been discussing this topic, but it left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth, as it seemed. Sighing quietly as to not draw more attention to you, you buried your head in your knees.

For the longest time, you had believed those two were good people. Sure, Bakugou was a hot-headed bastard sometimes, but together with Kirishima, who shone with his kindness, you three always had a lot of fun. When Kiri confessed to you, you had been so happy! What you thought was love probably was more like a deep friendship, but you didn’t say ‘no’ and went out with him.

But then the craziness started. It was subtle at first, and you confided in Bakugou, who told you, you were just imagining things. No one seemed to notice how Kirishima started to polarize your time constantly, how, when he wanted cuddles, he simply pulled you into an embrace even if you didn’t want to. How every problem was solved with ‘Just don’t go there anymore, you can stay here! I’ll take care of everything!’

You very quickly found out you had been wrong both with him being a good person and you being in love with him. But then, of all people, he still allowed Bakugou to come over! Where he kept you locked in his apartment all day while he played hero outside, he still allowed your friend to visit whenever. Seeing that Bakugou was not going to help you, no matter how much you pleaded with him to save you, broke your heart. It completely shattered you.

Honestly, you wanted to believe that you three had been friends once, but whatever happened to make the two into what they were now, it scared you. It frightened you so much that you barely slept at night, rarely managed to eat more than two spoons of your food, and rendered you unable to focus on anything if not ensuring you were safe when things got too much to bear. And now, your body shaking more than ever, you had to witness how even Bakugou seemed to have changed sides, and that scared you even more.

You thought he was just loyal to his friend by refusing to help you, but by god, he was the same as that maniac Kirishima.

“Look, I didn’t choose that either! But you knew I liked them way before you confessed!”

At that, Kirishima only clicked his tongue, unable to say anything in return to counter this claim. So it was right, Bakugou had liked you all along. All these things about Kirishima’s and your love life must have been so painful for him to listen to in this case. However, right then, as you overheard their conversation unwillingly, you didn’t feel bad for him even a second.

“I wish it was anyone else, but it’s them!”

“Well, are you sure?” Kirishima grumbled, and you kind of understood Bakugou’s frustration as his friend didn’t seem to want to hear the truth. “Yes, I am damn sure!”

“If that’s the case...” Kirishima sighed before you heard steps drawing closer. “[Name]? Can you come out? You know it’s rude not to show your cute face to our guest.”

Even if he spoke his words in a sugary voice, nothing about Kirishima could calm you. Slowly looking up at him again, you saw him reach his hand out to you, knowing fully well that he couldn’t get you out of that gap even if he probably wanted. The mood in the room was tense and full of heated tempers. Their back and forth had only made everything more awkward and uncomfortable as it already was for you.

Inwardly, you wanted nothing more than to stay in your hideout, hoping it would all quickly pass, but crossing Bakugou’s gaze briefly, you saw his brows only furrow more, and you wagered if taking Kirishima’s offer was better as long as he still asked nicely before either of them would lose their patience with you, too.

Slipping out of the space without taking his help, it wasn’t long before Kirishima picked you up anyway. The man had as much understanding about boundaries as you had about what even was wrong with him. He sat you down in his lap on the couch, waving Bakugou over, who reluctantly took a seat on the furthest armrest from you.

“Tell him, [Name]. You love me, right? You want to be with me, right?”

Opening your mouth, you wanted to protest, but Bakugou stole the words from you before you could talk.

“Bullshit! They’ve always been complaining because you suck at being a boyfriend! They could do so much better and be with me, right [Name]? Tell that idiot!”

You felt like a dog, with both owners screaming at their furbaby to chose them and go to the one it likes more.

Their back-and-forth continued, Kirishima swearing his love to you up and down while Bakugou praised his abilities to be better in... every way. Kirishima liked to remind you how much ‘fun’ you two had together and how much he did and would do for you in the future. Bakugou liked to argue with his friend, using insults and belittling comments about his plans. Neither made a very good impression, and their voices rose to a volume again, making you wish you had earplugs to drown out at least a little bit of their shouting.

Instead, you lifted your hands to your ears, cupping them as to drown out the sounds, hoping it was over soon. Why couldn’t they both leave you alone? Why did you have to end up in this situation, not once, but twice? Why did the two best friends you had turned out to be this crazy? Crazy about you?

There still were so many questions to be answered, and you curled into yourself as you spiraled down into overthinking everything that happened. From regrets you had, to disbelieve you still harbored, to the despair you felt as you couldn’t pinpoint when this nightmare would end.

You were so inside your own head, you didn’t notice how their voices slowly calmed down, their hearts breaking as they saw you so overwhelmed by the situation. Kirishima and Bakugou exchanged a few glances, and even in Bakugou’s serious and furious expression, there were hints of worries to find that only his friends could discern.

“How about you move in with us... and maybe they can make a decision then. Not that I’d just give them to you, but I can’t watch them being sad about us fighting. You always meant a lot to us.”

Huffing, Bakugou turned his head away, hiding the flustered red spreading on his cheeks. “I won’t share with you, you Dumbass! They’re mine. They love me much more than you freak!”

“Doubt it,” Kirishima chuckled as he brought his hand to your head, brushing over it comfortingly. He had never been afraid to say his opinion openly, a trait you had always found remarkable and remarkable stupid at the same time. “Whatever,” Bakugou grunted, standing up before storming out of the door without another word of goodbye, Kirishima sighing before he pulled you close.

“I hope this makes you happy,” he mumbled, not even knowing you weren’t listening anymore. “I’d do anything if it makes you happy.”

By the evening, a new roommate was sharing the apartment with you and Kirishima. They didn’t talk, neither at dinner nor before or after that. You didn’t mind the silence, but you did mind having to hold one hand of each as they decided to watch a movie, ever so often squeezing to gain your attention and giving you grins when you looked at them. As if that equaled making a decision which you liked better, just because they had a few seconds of your attention.

But even worse were the changes. The first thing Bakugou did was move the bed. Your hideout was no longer as he decided you didn’t need it. And where you had struggled to keep Kiri from you, you now were too scared to shove away Bakugou. Perhaps, you really had it nice with Kirishima. You pondered about it all night as you were squeezed between them, their arguing going deep into the early hours before they fell asleep, snoring away into your ears.

Would it have been easier if you had just chosen one of them?

Or would it be fatal to ever choose between them?

[growup-thatbeautiful]

Clone Wars Character on TikTok

Anakin- Poor Anakin, man does not have a that many creative ideas, but his life and ideas are strange enough that he gets a lot of followers easily. He’s also almost constantly videoing things too, so he’s able to get real time. There are so so many videos showing the reactions that Obi-Wan has because of his dumbass plans.

Everyone, literally everyone, thought he was an f-boy until he made a post, super confused, saying that he has a wife?? That he loves so much? So, coincidentally, the next videos he posts are him and his wife, who doesn’t show her face but there’s a poll going on about who it is. Most people have figured it, though, because some of his videos are him just listening to Mrs. Skywalker rant about people in the Senate when she comes home to him.

He also tries to convince everyone that he’s the best husband in the world by videoing himself cooking her dinner, which he always burns. In those videos, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, staples on Anakin’s account, are heard in the background giving him absolutely terrible advice on how to fix it. They usually end up with burnt pans and a whole bunch of frantic clips of Obi-Wan trying to turn off the oven, “My dear, your time is up.” And Anakin in the background “Force, that’s not going to kriffing work, Master. I’m coming in with the water gun.” (No one questions why there’s a water gun.) Ahsoka is just….chilling in the background. She’s just as clueless as the rest of them, but it’s funnier to watch them almost burn down Padame’s kitchen before she tries to step in and make things worse.

Ahsoka-Her feed is a more controlled chaos than Anakin’s, but chaos nonetheless. She does a lot of dance challenges with Fives, and is sometimes able to rope in Anakin, who tries really hard but is terrible at it, and Rex, who doesn’t actually dance and just stands there staring at the camera. There was one time she got Obi-Wan to do it with her, and he absolutely crushed it. All that grace has to help him somewhere else, right? Because she does dance videos, though, sometimes she get inappropriate comments or duets, which Rex, Obi-Wan, Plo, Fives, and Anakin all duet or make a video about explaining that she’s a minor and how unacceptable this is. Well, that’s what every but Rex does. Rex won’t let anyone, anyone, talk to his little sister like that, so he makes a super menacing video of him cleaning his guns.

Needless to say, she does a lot of videos with Rex. They do a lot of random videos of their conversations and pointless arguments. They also do so a lot of competitions with each other, rather it’s staring contests or sparring matches. Their sparring match videos are actually super popular, and they get more and more intense and complicated as they go on. There are never any weapons involved, but they get to show off combat skills and have huge fights across the ship or compound. Their usually filmed by a hysterical Anakin or Fives. Obi-Wan has made his disapproval clear, but there’s a video on Ahsoka’s account of him betting on the outcome.

Obi-Wan- Mostly on Cottagecore TikTok and posts aesthetic videos of him meditating, making fancy, pretty tea drinks, or any other mundane thing he does. He also posts self-defense videos to teach people how to protect themselves, and gives tips of how to use the force and how to help meditate. I think he posts once a week, but posts a bunch at one time because he’ll have one day of silence where he can get stuff for himself done. Basically, his account is to comfort people, to help people, in perfect Obi-Wan fashion.

He also posts encouraging videos to cheer people up when they need it. Cute messages like “Today’s going to be a good day” with that award winning Negotiator smile that get galaxy wide comments and duets. Sometimes the messages border on him illegally sharing decisions that the Senate’s made, like when he announced on his feed that a certain Planet should get ready to party because a certain vote had gone a certain way.

Sometimes, though, he posts videos of Ahsoka, Anakin, or Cody doing incredibly stupid things. It’s become a series, he shows the person do or say the stupidest things, and then he zooms in on someone else’s face. The most common duo is Anakin and Rex, but sometimes there’s Waxer and Cody, once or twice, Obi-Wan and Cody.

Rex- He doesn’t post a lot, and when he does he’s usually not really in them. People only know him specifically because he’s in so many of Ahsoka’s videos. His are mostly “the stuff I have to deal with videos” showing petty fights between some of the 501st or some animal that a soldier decided they wanted to sneak into the ship. That, of course, lead to a blowup on his account, so he started posting lots of content with his brothers. Ahsoka has the notion that he’s doing it to help the way people see Clones, but he does seem to enjoy it a lot.

He, like Obi-Wan, posts hand to hand combat training video to help people in the galaxy, put his training to more use. He makes sure to show how to hold your first in a punch, how to safely clean a blaster, how to take a punch. Some of his posts are to teach people about clones and mando’a traditions. But he’s not all serious. He likes making videos of him and his brothers when they go out to do things for fun or they go out to 79’s.

This one might be a bit far fetched, but I think he would also post videos of him and Ahsoka doing mundane things together, repainting their armour, making bracelets or some stuff on the floors of the bunks during hyperspace. It’s calmer than what Ahsoka posts, and purposely so.

Fives-Oh man. Fives’ account is a wreck. Half of the videos are him running away from something he’s done and the other half are him running into things that he shouldn’t about to be doing. Shakily filmed, someone (usually himself) screaming in the background, you can hear him panting and out of breath. A lot of the times Anakin is with him or chasing after him, and as you can almost always hear Rex cursing and yelling at them to stop, especially if they haven’t done the thing yet because that means they have a plan. When Fives has a plan it ends up being worse than when he makes it up on the spot. 

He also posts videos of him giving people in the streets compliments, because he’s sweet like that. He usually gets pretty funny reactions most of the time, and the few times they’re bad reactions he simply flips the camera and grimaces, then, of course, starts laughing because he’s not going to let one person put him down.

He also has a series of him painting the Bi flag all over the ship and waiting to see people’s reactions. The cutest was that one time Ahsoka walked past and ran her fingers along it softly and smiling. Also notable was the time Obi-Wan caught him midway through and just pretended he didn’t see him. All of those are posted with the persons permission, of course.

Aayla and Bly- They share an account where they do ALL of the couple-y stuff. Any couples challenge that they’re asked to do, they do. It’s hard to do the challenges like “You could’ve been nicer to me today” because they’re both on it all the time and have definitely heard of it, but they make do with all kinds of others. Aayla and Bly are definitely one of those couples that adopts all the kids that follow their account, and they’re ready to fight anyone who says anything bad the Clones or the Jedi.

There’s also a large amount of videos that some of the 327th takes of them cuddling together, training together, polishing weapons together. Basically, their account is them being cute and the rest of the 327th either being incredibly supportive of them or gagging at all the PDA. They start a trend where they go up in front of random people around the ship and start making out to get the reaction. Some examples of the best reactions are franticly running outside of the room, slapping Bly across the back of the head, and wild cheering.

Cody: You’re kidding, right? He does not have time to do the TikTok, nor does he understand TikTok at all. He is in most of Obi-Wan’s videos, and he’s sometimes in Rex’s too. Most of the time he’s telling all of them not to do whatever they’re about to do, or he’s sitting on the floor and crying with Rex.

Anakin actually started making videos called “When you see your dad and your other dad be romantic.” Where it’s just him finding Obi-Wan and Cody doing cute things in random places, followed by Anakin or Ahsoka making faces at the camera.

Plo- Parent side of TikTok for sure. His account features so many, so many, videos of him doing fun things with the 104th. He may seem like an extremely serious man, but put him with all of his kids and has almost no impulse control. They ask to stop at that restaurant they saw on the way to their mission, and he makes it happen. Everyone pretends not to notice because they wouldn’t dare go against him.

This account is also mostly run by everyone in the 104th because A. Plo doesn’t have a password and B. That’s how they get a bunch of footage. The phone is passed around throughout the day, but all of the content focuses on the Plo’s Bros relationships. Anything that he does, from giving a shiny a thumbs up when he comes up with a new plan, to teaching some of the older clones who are a little overworked how to take deep breaths. All the followers also a learn the Plo is absolutely terrible at any kind of card games, which is shown when they post video after video of the bets he looses.

Next for Star Wars I’ll be doing Bad Batch, then, because this got so long, I’ll do one with some more characters! Sorry it’s so long, this ran away from me a bit.

Some clone wars beautiful mutuals @radbatch (Who is the absolute best person to talk to about Ahsoka ever period end of story) of course and @maiseey (Who is now my my mutual? How?)

[fancysimpinghere]

Euphories pt.4 (Sykkuno x reader)

Well, hello everyone! I want to deeply apologize for such a long break in posting there. We all know how hard life can sometimes be. But I arrived with a finish of this story and I hope you will like it! Enjoy!

summary: all good things eventually come to the end and insecurities aren't helping. Adult life is hard, so are decisions. Even if mistakes happen, there would be something to do to fix your frienship. And who knows, maybe things would evolve into something deeper and more advanced than simple relation between friends?

It has been two months since your first encounter with this pretty boy. Luckily, your schedule wasn’t that busy in summer months, so you could visit Thomas in his grandfather’s shop at least twice a week. Your friendship was blossoming, you both surprisingly had a very good contact. When you visited the shop, Thomas usually was waiting for you with one of the magic cassettes, but sometimes he was just showing you around. Actually, you found yourself almost working with him, because you were helping him with unpacking new items, organizing things and cleaning. It was very fun for both of you - you could spend more time together and get to know each other. But you had your own job as well, and summer time was slowly ending. You knew that if you want to keep seeing Thomas, you have to bring your friendship to another level and start to meet up outside. Little did you know that he rarely left shop or house. These places were his comfort zone and You didn't want to push him to do something really demanding. You decided to give him some time to get accustomed to your presence in his life and let Sykkuno make this important step. All you could do then was wait and do your best to gain his trust even more than you had already. When holidays ended, you were sad, because that means less free time - and less time spent with Thomas. But you still came to his shop, even if you were tired or had to sacrifice your sleep time. Sometimes you helped his grandfather with some simple chores, made some cookies for them both or just kept him company - you knew that older people seek attention from others and you couldn't say no to him. But to be honest, it was difficult to bring together your new lifestyle with your old one. Of course you liked Sykkuno, and you felt about him a little different than an ordinary friend - you liked him more and this was also not easy. You were afraid that if he found out about your little secret, it would scare him away and you would lose him as a result. Day by day you were trying to shove your feelings away and focus on helping him, but every moment spent with Thomas started to feel like too much for you. You were worried if he noticed small changes in your behaviour, but he seemed fine. Because of that, you started to lose yourself in work - your amount of free time dropped almost to the bare minimum because of afterhours, and even if you had a free day, you were too tired to visit your friend.

On the other hand, Thomas was internally freaking out. In the end of holidays he started to catch feelings for you, but was too afraid to admit it even to himself. He enjoyed your company a little bit too much, and you started to look better than before in his eyes. But he was sure that you are too good to him and you deserve better than a shy boy with nothing to offer. So he was amazed that you still visited him after your work started and spent your precious time with him. He was absolutely affected by your kindness and willingness to help.

He knew that if he wants to keep you even as a friend, he has to do something. You were his only friend and after these months spent together, he couldn't imagine his life without you. So when you started to visit his shop less often, he felt hopeless. Sykkuno was sure that he bored you out of his life because of his strange addiction to video games and antisocial lifestyle. He didn’t know what to do. His low self-esteem was not helping him with putting his thoughts together. After the first two weeks without your visit to his home or shop, he was devastated. Nothing from his special collection of games and films could make him completely happy anymore, because his thoughts were occupied by you. But one day, when he was organizing his special cassettes, a movie caught his eye. When he read the title, an idea sprung to his mind and he was that desperate for your presence, he almost instantly made a decision.

*********************************************

You started to feel a bit nostalgic when you were looking through the window at falling snowflakes. It was the first snow of the year, so you were also a little bit excited. But when you were sitting in a small cafe in your town, a cup of hot chocolate in front of you, memories slowly creeping from the back of your head. Memories of sad past months, but also of warm and joyful summer. But the most important thought in your mind was the reason for your presence in the cafe. Your fingers unconsciously wandered on the screen of your phone to once again open a message from your friend Thomas. You had strong remorse for leaving him alone and don't contacting him in almost a month. You didn't know what to expect from today's meeting with him, but you were shocked that he invited you to a public place, where there could be a lot of people. Your line of thinking was cut, when small bells over the door frame rang and someone entered the cafe. You guessed it was your company for today - hood covered his head and his face was covered by black mask, but you were sure that this is your friend, whom you haven't seen for almost 2 long months. You noticed his lack of gloves - his hands were red from the cold temperature outside. He still got snowflakes on his massive hoodie, but they were melting away. Even if you felt a little bit awkward, you felt a strange warmth in your chest at the sight of him. You longed to hear his soft voice and laugh, and your heart squeezed just at the thought of it.

He paused for a while to look for you among other people present at the cafe and his gaze finally met yours. He shyly headed towards you and slowly pulled off his hood and mask, so you could recognize him as you haven't done it already. Even from a distance you could say that he was nervous, his hands were making some awkward movements and his eyes shifted from one person to another, like he was expecting somebody to attack him. Finally he was standing right in front of your table and you felt terribly for leaving him with poor excuses about work. He looked bad, just as you - sleepless nights put their marks on your face and you recognized them on his face too. Before he could say anything, you stood up immediately, and reduced the distance between you two. You looked him deep in the eye and hugged him carefully to not scare him. You didn’t care about other people, because you especially chose a more private area of the cafe, in the corner and a massive part of it was covered by plants. You felt Thomas tensing up after you embraced him, but after a few seconds he relaxed and hugged you back.

- "I'm so sorry, Sykkuno." - whisper left your mouth before you could think about forming a more developed sentence, but these words were only one in your mind right now. - "I missed you so much."

At these words he hugged you tighter and you could swear that he smiled like he always did when he was embarrassed.

- "I missed you too." - he whispered back, straight to your ear. You felt butterflies waking up in your stomach at his closeness and blushed a little.

- "It’s nice to- nice to see you, hm." - he stuttered a little and moved his arms away from you, so you did the same. You both sat down and you looked at his face again. Small blush creeped his cheeks, but it could be from the temperature change. - "I was afraid that you wouldn't have time for… For me."

He looked at you like a lost puppy and you felt awful. But before you could say something, he gave you a very warm and wide smile.

-"But you had and I'm happy about it." - he said and started to look for something in his pockets. - "I know that you are a very hard working person and I wanted to thank you for helping me and my grandfather despite this." - it was the longest sentence you ever heard from him, so you were a little bit speechless, but he looked like he wanted to say something more. However, you felt guilty and you had to apologize to him properly.

- "Thomas, I’m sorry. "- you interrupted before he could continue. - "I'm sorry for non contacting you in days and I know it was wrong. I… I can explain why I did this."

- "You don't have to. "- He answered and his search finished with success, because he placed down something rectangular on the table. - "I asked you for a meeting, because I realized something during the past months. And I can't keep this a secret any more."

He was looking even more nervous now. He hid his hands in the sleeves of his hoodie, because they were trembling a little. You also noticed that his face is clearly and non deniable red almost like a tomato, and he was a little bit hesitant when speaking. You decided to not interrupt him this time, and you also felt nervous. He looked at the window to search for the right words or find the courage, you assumed. But then he suddenly returned his gaze to you.

- "What is it, Thomas?" - you asked softly to encourage him to share his thoughts with you. You decided to use his real name to show you are taking him seriously. Deep in your heart you felt a little spark of hope, but you didn't want to make expectations and then be dissapointed. You watched his movements carefully, your eyes dropping to the item lying before him, and you finally recognized the thing. It was a cassette thanks to which you could know him. Your mouth opened in surprise and when he noticed that, he smiled coyly, but stress was still recognizable on his face.

- "I wanted to tell you for a long time, but… I… I couldn’t find the courage. But now, I decided that I have to do this." - words left his mouth faster than usual, and his eyes nervously watched your reaction. He sighed and blinked a few times. -" You are my best friend, my only friend, but I realized I like you a lot more than that."

You were completely speechless. You didn't even imagine this scenario - it was too perfect to be real, but there you are. Your mind exploded with a sudden wave of joy and happiness, because the dearest person you know just admitted to liking you back. You smiled sincerely to him and he had to notice a spark of joy in your gaze, because he stopped talking and just watched you with his big eyes.

- "Thomas, I like you too. "- you said in answer, honestly looking into his eyes. -" I didn’t know how to tell you, so I distanced myself fro you, because I didn’t want to scare you or… "- you didn’t finish and all of sudden felt embarrassed for your lack of initiative.

- "I thought it would be nice to talk about it in the place where our friendship started. "- he said slowly and carefully moved the cassette on the table towards you. He looked down for a second, then returned your gaze. He looked more determined than before and smiled at you once again. You could look at his smile forever - there was nothing more cuter than his expressions.

- "So…Would you like to accompany me on this journey?" - he asked softly and pulled out his hand to you from the sleeve. He watched your reaction carefully.

- "Yes, I definitely would." - You giggled and blushed a little, but gently grabbed his hand and intertwined your fingers with his.

He tightened his grip on your hand and you both touched the cassette with your other hands. The world started to spin, and even when you started falling down, all you could feel in this moment was falling in love with this cute, lovely boy, soon to be your boyfriend, who held your hand like his life depended on it and laughed at the strange sensation. You couldn't help and joined him, looking forward to experiencing the best adventure - and you were certain that it would be the best, because you had the greatest companion in the whole world.

~fin~

[peppermintbee]

OMORI has poor writing (Part 1)

OMORI stans, just block the #omori hate tag now because I’m going to use it to vent my frustrations with this game. If you love this game, I am not going to try to convince you otherwise. I am glad you enjoyed it so much. I am glad it means a lot to you. I’m not here to take that away from you. I honestly wish I felt the same way!

However, if you are like me and finished the game feeling disappointed, underwhelmed, and maybe a little frustrated, then I am here to say you are not alone. OMORI--while having the right set pieces for an interesting game--is a narrative mess.

I’m splitting this into two posts. This first post is about problems with the plot. The second is about problems with the message/moral. 

(Note: I use “OMORI” in all-caps for the game title, and “Omori” in title case for the character name.)

Spoilers and criticism below.

Part 1: Plot Writing Lies

There’s a book by Brian McDonald called Invisible Ink which is about how to write a compelling story (you can read this great book online for free here). There’s an explanation of the writing “lie” that I find myself frequently thinking of. A “lie” in this context does not mean something is literally untrue, it means something FEELS untrue, unrealistic, improbable, or unlikely. For example, if a character gets shot in the leg but manages to do parkour, this is a “lie” since it seems unrealistic for that to happen. If a character witnesses their beloved parent’s death and shrugs it off, it’s a “lie” because that reaction seems highly unlikely.

In OMORI, the plot is held together by multiple little lies that--try as I might--I just couldn’t bring myself to believe.

1. Sunny’s friends care about him, and vice versa

A major theme of the game is how friendship can overcome any obstacle. Friendship gets Sunny over his fear of heights, spiders, and water. Friendship is what Sunny remembers before the final boss fight, and allows him to face his guilt and defeat it (and prevent him from committing suicide). With the photobook and dialogue you are reminded over and over and over and over and over again that Sunny’s friends love him unconditionally.

However, I just couldn’t bring myself to believe it. The childhood memories are cute but shallow, boiling down to simply hanging out and eating treats. Plus, Kel and Aubrey fight constantly, with Aubrey even physically hitting Kel when he steps out of line. Hero and Mari behave more like babysitters than true friends to the younger kids. 

But at least the other kids interact with each other. Sunny, on the other hand, showed nearly no affection or consideration towards his friends. He floats through the memories like a ghost--he could have been completely absent from all the photos and it would have made little difference. I was ready to accept this as Sunny being an unreliable narrator and not thinking he was a good enough for his friends, but this never contradicted. Instead we are given even more memories where Sunny just silently exists there being “cute.”

[Sunny enriching the lives of his friends by LARPING as a cat.]

Because of the lack of meaningful interactions between them, there was nothing in the game that made me think that these 12-15 year olds would have a strong enough bond that would survive 3-4 years of no contact after finding their friend hanged. In fact, that discovery only drove them farther apart. The only person who I could believe actually had a close bond was Basil, who almost literally filled that trope of being the friend who would help you bury a body (or in this case, help Sunny cover up the accidental manslaughter).

The writing fix for this would be simple: instead of showing us the same boring birthday and beach scenes over again, give the kids memories of overcoming some age-appropriate adversity together: heartbreak over an unrequited crush, anxiety over homework, sports injury, lost dogs, divorced parents, running away from home, bullying, etc. Set a precedent of the friends supporting each other through good times AND bad times. Without such backstory, Sunny’s friendships allegedly giving him the courage to overcome his guilt feels like a lie.

2. Sunny abandoning Basil in the bathroom scene

One of the most confusing moments in the game was Sunny’s negligence when Basil has his first breakdown in his bathroom. This part of the game is player-controlled, which is a strange writing decision because all you can do is click on Basil and various bathroom amenities over and over which completely saps the urgency out of the scene. When you try to leave, Basil begs Sunny to stay, but (due to a lack of player options) Sunny walks out without a word. With no option to talk to him OR get help for him, it makes Sunny seem exceptionally cruel to Basil. In fact, I was starting to wonder if the game was setting up for some sort of twist that Sunny DIDN’T care about his friends, which would fix some of the confusion in point #1. However, as we know, that is not the case. Therefore, Sunny’s negligence/apathy towards Basil’s pain feels like a lie.

The writing fix would be to make it MORE clear that Sunny is intentionally running away from Basil. Make it a cutscene, or, give a false choice such as “Leave Basil? Yes / Yes”. After Sunny leaves, Kel should make some remark about Sunny looking odd, “You look sort of shaken up, is there something you want to tell me?” then hit it home with Sunny shaking his head. This would make it more clear that Sunny is intentionally hiding Basil’s state, as opposed to just being a bad friend. As it stands, it just felt like a writing mistake.

3. Basil and Sunny working together to stage Mari’s death as a suicide

This is the plot hole that I see the most complaints over, but it’s so big I have to address it. Accidentally pushing Mari down the stairs I understand, but the rest is too absurd. Below are some of the “lies” that the writing tries to get away with:

That Sunny and Basil wouldn’t just claim she slipped and fell.

That either boy would even come up with this sick plan.

That they wouldn’t back out of this idea during the multi-step process (carrying her downstairs, outside, getting the jump rope, tying a noose, putting it around her neck, stringing her up, hiding the evidence... This is a series of multiple decisions, not one quick accident like the initial push.)

That it’s not the image of Mari’s death that traumatized Sunny, but the image of what they chose to do to her body that traumatized them. I understand the image of Mari hanging is more dramatic, but they literally did it themselves so why is that more haunting than Sunny killing her?

That Mari’s true cause of death wouldn’t be immediately obvious to the parents, the police, the friends, EVERYONE. (I’ve seen fans try to get rid of this plot hole by hypothesizing that the parents knew and covered it up, but the evidence of this is circumstantial at best. The father saying, “You’re not my son,” is unreliable since it happens in Sunny’s headspace. Divorce is common after the death of a child, and, at the very least, Sunny’s mom doesn’t show any evidence of knowing what happened. The way it is written, only Sunny and Basil know the truth.)

The ridiculousness of this twist is so extreme that it completely broke any immersion I had left. Frankly, the reveal that the happy, loveable Mari committed suicide is a far heavier and more realistic twist than a crazy murder-cover-up story is.

Additionally, it seems like Basil was only written into this scene in order to make Sunny the true victim of what happened. After all, Sunny may have pushed her, but it was Basil who came up with the demented cover up. (This is apparent from just the photos but the datamined Truth Album confirms it.) By having Basil come up with the plan, the game splits the guilt between the two of them to make the kids easier to sympathize with. It’s problematic because if Basil was not in the scene, there would be no way to justify what Sunny did to Mari. So why is what they did easier to accept when they worked together?

Fixing the writing lie: Sunny lies and says that Mari slipped. Remove Basil from the scene, and instead have Sunny confide in Basil which forces Basil to become a co-conspirator and burdens him with the terrible truth.

4. Sunny’s friends forgiving him and Basil for what they did to Mari

Last but not least, the story heavily implies that Hero, Kel, and Aubrey will forgive Basil and Sunny for what they did to Mari. I found this to be almost as unbelievable as the staged-suicide stunt.

It feels like a lie since the group’s friendship is never established as anything beyond shallow hang outs from 3+ years ago (see point #1).

It feels like a lie because this is hot off the heels of Aubrey being so distraught over Mari and the following fall out that in the last three days she 1.) attacked Sunny and Kel with a nail bat TWICE, 2.) Stole Basil’s photobook, and 3.) Shoved Basil in the lake. This trauma is still very fresh for her.

It feels like a lie because the complexity of the staged-suicide is so extreme, one would be hard pressed to forgive ANYONE for doing that, be it friend, foe, parent, sibling, lover, etc.

I’ve seen fans argue that the ending is not about forgiveness, it’s about telling the truth, and I want to believe that. Really. If the ending was about Sunny starting his redemption arc by telling the truth no matter what the consequences are, that would be a meaningful lesson. But the writing does not support that. The ending headspace segments are focused on assuring Sunny that his friends will support/forgive him no matter what. To do this, the game shows us the shallow photobook memories (again) to show how much they allegedly care about each other. Then, when fighting Omori, Sunny remembers these quotes from his friends, which directly correlate to their unconditional support:

KEL: Friends... Friends are supposed to be there for each other.

AUBREY: I hope you can find some peace... or you know... some happiness.

HERO: We made the mistake of leaving each other when we needed each other the most. This time... we’ll stay together.

BASIL: Maybe one day... things can go back to the way they were before.

The really direct evidence that this ending is about getting forgiveness is this quote from Basil in Sunny’s headspace:

[BASIL: “AUBREY, KEL and HERO are good friends. You have to trust that they’ll forgive us.”]

This is one of the last scenes before Sunny tells his friends the truth, proving that obtaining forgiveness from his FRIENDS is in fact the leading motivation for Sunny’s actions.

Fixing this writing lie is easy. Instead, adjust the writing to be about telling the truth, not about how much the friends will still love Sunny. Have headspace Basil say, “Even if they don’t forgive us, Aubrey, Kel, and Hero deserve to know the truth. It’s the only way to make things right... or close to it.”

Conclusion

OMORI is undeniably a cute game with a strong visual identity, and has a premise that could make for a very compelling experience. However, the sloppy plot and weak character writing cause the potential of this game to be squandered. There are other issues as well that I chose not to cover for the sake of time, such as the poor pacing of the dragged out dungeons and the bizarre, unrealistic behavior of characters in the “real” world. 

However, there are a few more glaring problems with OMORI that I have to address: In part 2 of my critique, I break down what may be the biggest problem with OMORI’s writing: the message.

[ Link to Part 2: OMORI’s Message is Mishandled and Distasteful ]

[behindheremeraldeyes]

damirae week 2021

sunday, may 9th - soulmates & wedding/ honeymoon

title: you are my secret

summary: the universe wanted her to know his deepest secret, and even if it made things easier for her to find her soulmate, his secret came with heavier responsibilities than she could’ve expected. — Soulmates AU where they know each other’s secret. Ao3

.

There are some secrets that do not permit themselves to be told.

— Edgar Allan Poe

His secret revealed itself to her like a wave that crashes against the shore— all at once, all too much.

It came in a dark nightmare, chasing her like a horrific, shadowy figure. She had tried to run, scream for help, even, but no sound came from her sore throat. There was no place where she could hide, no one who could save her, and eventually, she was captured in that thing’s tight grasp. Though she didn’t know what was happening, fighting it proved itself worthless, as her small body refused to move a muscle. An ominous force enveloped her surroundings, and she could no longer see or hear anything.

Something lurked in those shadows— something bizarre and surreal— and chills ran down her body as her small world suddenly grew silent. Might have been seconds or days, she didn’t know, but eventually, screams erupted in her ears. Her eyes widened, then, tears running down her face as a wave of emotions swept her off her feet. Raven was having an epiphany. An unannounced realization of the truth in its rawest form, and instantly, the world was not the same.

And it would never be again, no. Not anymore.

She woke up with her lungs begging the world for air, sweat soaking the covers and a heart ready to burst out of her chest. Her eyes were frantically scanning the room, her pupils still fighting to adjust to the dim light that came with the first rays of sun. Her body was shaking uncontrollably, and before she knew it, her eyes were brimming with burning tears that ran down her cold cheeks. It was the most tragic, yet bewildering moment of her young life, and though she could not deny the fear taking over her senses, her mind had never been that clear before. She had never been more alive.

So this is how it feels, she wondered. Her fingers ran through her messy, dark locks that were falling forward; and it was as if she could feel her brain pulsating under her touch. Adrenaline rushed through her veins and thousands of new thoughts were trying to find a place to settle inside her head.

Raven was confused, yes. Disoriented, even. However, at that moment— at that unique and special moment where a whole new world seemed to reveal itself to her— she was sure of one particular thing that would change everything.

She knew his secret. Finally, the cosmic forces that rule the universe have revealed his best-kept secret to a 16-year-old girl. She knew that Damian Wayne is the man behind the green mask and yellow cape.

He is Robin.

He is her soulmate.

Initially, the idea itself seemed to have been taken from one of her old fantasy books; where the world is dystopian and reality follows no rule whatsoever. She had to be dreaming. Hallucinating, even, but the information was solidified in her core as one of her most visceral memories. No matter how much she has tried to— and she really did try— not even her sharp mind could deny that new discovery. She tried not to freak out, but it was hard not to overthink when her entire lifestyle was about to be jeopardized because of that one secret that was revealed to her.

Raven was but a normal, high-school girl. She had plans to go to college after graduating, and she wished for nothing more than a tranquil life after that. Though she was already familiar with the universe’s rule regarding pairing people who are, supposedly, very compatible, having a soulmate or not has never really entered the equation of her future, especially since she was decided not to let her life be dictated by it. From the very beginning, she refused to believe fate could ever control her with trivial things such as love and understanding, and at some point in her life, the raven-haired girl was ready to do anything to prove her point.

She was ready to defy the forces responsible for selecting two random individuals to be each other’s soulmates.

She was ready to go as far as she had to, but eventually, once her teenage-ish years got behind her, and her insubordination gave place to more reasonable thoughts; Raven decided she could settle for a person who could make her smile every now and then. A person who could share with her a simple life, and eventually, a simple love.

And with or without Robin, Damian Wayne himself could never give her simple.

For as long as she can remember, he has been in the cover of the magazines with his father, Bruce Wayne. He’s the heir of one of the most successful companies in the world and the favorite target of many paparazzi because of his cold and reserved personality. His life has always been exposed to the world— or, apparently, just some of it— and she has always believed them to be complete opposites.

Their worlds were galaxies apart. He didn’t fit any of her expectations, and she was sure she didn’t fit his either. And even if sharing a secret was supposed to bring them closer, his secret identity has only served to distance them even further.

Could two people so different like them ever find common ground? She didn’t know, however; the deed was done. They were walking around, living their own lives while carrying each other’s secrets, and one day— if things worked out as they are supposed to— they were bound to meet and stay together for the rest of their lives.

They didn’t know how, where or when, but it was going to happen. The universe was going to make sure of it. Damian Wayne and Raven were bound to fall in love, just like that. And until their special day could come, she was decided to keep on living her life as she had originally planned to.

Oh, how foolish of her.

The longer it took for their paths to cross, the clearer it became for her that a secret such as Robin’s real identity came with certain responsibilities she had never really prepared for. Just by knowing it, Raven was already included in a very selected and powerful group of people, who had no idea about her mere existence, let alone her true intentions. If anyone did as much as suspect that she knew about his identity, chances were her head would be on the line and Batman would be the first to pay her a visit at night. She could get into trouble—real trouble— and even without wanting to, she would eventually end up dragging her loved ones with her.

Her family and friends didn’t deserve to suffer the consequences of her future love life. She didn’t, either, but that was never a matter up for discussion. Raven had to keep them safe at all costs, and that was why, once her high-school days were over, the girl didn’t think twice before leaving it all behind and moving to Gotham city on her own. It was a very hard decision, but it was the right one if she wanted to keep them safe. It had to be. Also, if she were to live in Gotham, she might get a chance to meet him and properly introduce herself as his soulmate.

Like that would be easy…

With her impeccable grades and remarkable school records, it was easy for her to get into Gotham College, where she began her English Major. It wasn’t her dream college— far from it— but it would have to do for the time being. She found herself an apartment, and for it was Gotham city, it was cheap enough for her to afford it on her own. It wasn’t located in a fine neighborhood or anywhere worthy of a Wayne, but according to the owner, no one had died in there, so perhaps, that was a win.

Once settled in, it didn’t take her long to get to know his city. Apart from its terrible fame, Raven eventually found some nice places spread around the city. There were good bakeries, small bookshops, and there was this one park that took her breath away. Whenever she had time, she would go there to think about life or just breathe a little.

Life in Gotham wasn’t as bad as she had originally expected it to be. After almost five years, her ears were almost used to the constant symphony of sirens, and not even the weirdos dressed as clowns robbing the bank at least once a month took her sleep away anymore. Her eyes shone a little brighter whenever she saw the dynamic duo on the cover of the newspapers, and she would be lying if she said that her heart didn’t grow worried whenever she saw a building on fire or something of the kind.

Perhaps that was their connection as soulmates making her think more about Damian. Or, perhaps, that was just a stupid reaction evoked by her own mind growing anxious. She couldn’t quite tell anymore.

After so many years without as much as an interaction, Raven was starting to grow weary. When she first thought about living in Gotham, she believed it would be just a matter of time until their paths crossed and she could tell him they were soulmates. She actually believed that meeting him would be easy, but eventually, the raven-haired girl realized that Damian Wayne was almost as unreachable as his father.

She has never seen him walking on the streets by himself. Whenever he’s out of his mansion, hordes of people surround him and setting an appointment at his father’s company is nearly impossible for a girl like her. According to his secretary, his agenda is already full until May 2034, and even then there will be no guarantee that Mr. Wayne will be able to meet her. He’s a very busy man, for sure.

Still, her name is on the list, just in case.

A defeated sigh escaped her lungs as she was making her way home from work one Friday night. It was winter, and Gotham is a particularly cold city. A black scarf was wrapped around her neck and her arms were hugging her body so she could get a little warmer. It had been one of those days, and she honestly just wanted to get home and drink a warm cup of tea.

Her heeled boots were clicking against the concrete sidewalk as she followed the masses of employees towards the subway station. All of those people, herself included, were on their way home after another long week of work, and as Gotham citizens, none of them wanted to take longer than necessary to reach their destination. Though not decreed by the mayor, the city was under constant curfew due to the elevated crime rates, and those who were smart enough didn’t dare put their luck to test.

The clock was about to strike 9:45pm and she was casually waiting for the train to arrive at the platform. Raven watched as at least 40 people surrounded her, most of them entertained by their cellphones, and she couldn’t help but close her amethyst eyes for a moment so she could take a deep breath. She was tired, cold, and her stomach was begging her to be fed. She really just wanted to get home and get this day over with.

Unfortunately, Two Face’s minions had other plans.

Once the train stopped and its automatic doors opened, at least 20 men, all armed, walked out, pointing their guns at everyone. People were startled, the tension in the atmosphere thick enough to be cut with a knife, and even if there was no hysteric reaction from anyone, it was as if she could hear the strangled screams wanting to call for help.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!” One of them started, showing off the gun in his hands. “I know you’re all dying to get home, but you’re not going anywhere until we’re finished with you.”

In all of those years she has been living in Gotham, that was the first time she was this close to real danger. Her eyes widened immediately, her heart skipping a beat as adrenaline started to kick in. There was a man at least 2 meters away from her, and if his finger did as much as slip, her brief life could come to an abrupt end. She was looking around the sea of people, and all Raven could see were hands being lifted in the air, but no one really trying to alert the authorities or call for help.

She swallowed dry, then, her mind focusing on the small girl all alone who was trembling in fear. Someone had to help them. Someone had to call the cops so they could take care of those bandits.

And apparently, that’s someone would be her.

Once she made up her mind, her icy fingers slowly reached for her coat’s right pocket and tried to get her cellphone without being noticed. Her heart was beating faster in fear of being discovered, but she didn’t stop. With her thumb, she pressed the main button, and even without seeing the device, she slid her finger to across the screen, hoping to have gained access so she could make an emergency call. She motioned her fingers to dial 911, and when she thought everything was going according to plan, one of the bandits looked at her, their eyes connecting, and she knew she had been caught.

“What do you have back there, doll?”

A smirk took over his smug face and her blood ran cold at the sight. Her lips trembled when he lifted his gun to point at her, and at that moment, she knew she was going to die. Her life was about to end and all because she was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Great timing, Raven, she thought. Or, perhaps, it wasn’t really that bad.

When the man was about to pull the trigger, his gun was knocked over his hand by a flying projectile. He winced in pain, catching everyone by surprise, and before anyone could notice, more projectiles came flying towards the other men. Her eyes followed the sound of metal hitting the floor, and her heart skipped a beat when she recognized the batarangs lying motionless on the concrete. They were here, at last. Help had finally arrived.

Before a smoke screen suddenly exploded near them, Raven thought she had seen his pointy ears and dark cloak coming from the celling and punching the one who was probably the leader on the face. At that moment, the sea of people started to dissipate as they all ran for their lives, like a scared herd of buffalos. People bumped on her shoulders as they passed through her, yet, her feet still refused to move from the spot as her eyes captured a glimpse of his yellow cape jumping in front of her.

Damian, she thought, her heart skipping a beat.

Perhaps it was the thrill of finally seeing him so close, but she just couldn’t bring herself to find an escape route. Raven knew she should be running towards a safer place, but something inside her spoke louder than reason itself. She couldn’t convince her feet to move away no matter how much she tried to, and soon, she realized why. Coming from behind the train, a new bandit showed up, pulling a smaller gun from behind his back. He was quick to aim it at the Boy Wonder, but what followed made her feel as if the entire world was suddenly trapped in a slow-motion picture.

Her eyes saw the man aiming that gun towards him while he was still engaged in another fight. An unexplainable fear took over her senses, and before she could even think things through, her body was already moving on its on. The raven-haired girl was running towards his yellow figure as fast as she could, her arms extending as she got closer. A loud shot was heard by the time she shoved him away from the approaching bullet, and as her eyes closed in pure reflex, Raven felt an arm snake around her waist, right before her feet lost contact with the ground.

She was flying. Her eyes remained closed, but during that fraction of a second, she knew she was flying.

Did she take that shot?

Was she dead?

Who was going to feed her cat?

And what about Damian? Was he okay?

Raven didn’t know. Her head was filled with all of those unanswered questions by the time she had landed, but her eyes were still closed in pure fear. Her hands were covering her face, and she could feel tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

If she wasn’t dead yet, she was definitely going to pass out real soon. Her head was spinning, her knees were about to give in and she just couldn’t find anything around her to keep her consciousness from slipping away. She was about to collapse. She was going to—

“Hey, what the hell did you do that for? Are you insane?!”

A harsh voice invaded her ears, and suddenly, she felt two hands on her shoulders. Her eyes shot open in reflex, and much to her surprise, the first thing she saw was that green mask of his. Their faces were standing so close that she could see the expression lines deforming his tanned skin as he was probably glaring at her. A scowl decorated his thin lips, and only then she realized how tall he actually is as his body towered over hers.

It was him. It was Damian, right in front of her. At last, fate had brought them together, and apparently, he was mad at her.

“Why did you push me like that? You could’ve gotten yourself killed!” He continued, her lips parting in awe. “Are you even listening to me!?”

“I-I…” She mumbled, her head still mixing all the words. “You were going to get shot. I thought— “

“I saw that guy back there. I was not going to get shot.” He released her shoulders, and she felt sparks running down her skin at the lack of contact. “Seriously, civilians these days. They think they can be heroes.”

“Hey, I was trying to help, okay!?” She answered, growing slightly irritated at his arrogance.

“Help? How? By getting killed? Thanks, I don’t need your help.”

“God, you’re such a jerk! Next time I’ll let you take that stupid shot!”

“I was not going to get shot!” He pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. “TT, whatever. I need to go back and help Batman. Get out of here and try not to get into any more trouble by saving strangers, okay?”

“I— What—?”

Her lips stumbled upon the words as she watched him turn around so he could return to the battlefield. All the anger that was taking over her disappeared and was replaced by a longing feeling she had never felt before. The cape that adorned his back swung as he walked away, her emotions growing anxious at the scene.

He was leaving. Damian was going back to his impenetrable world, and he didn’t even know her name. After almost 5 years, that was their first interaction, and however troubled it had been, it was still the only thing they had. Raven couldn’t let that chance slip away from her fingers, no. Not after everything she went through to meet him.

She bit her lower lip, then, but eventually, her eyes were filled with a confidence she didn’t know she possessed. She filled her lungs with fresh air and took a step towards him. “Robin, stop! I need to tell you something.”

“Not gonna happen.” He stated, not bothering to turn to face her. “I have a job to do and—”

“Damian, wait!”

His name rolled out of her tongue and she watched as his shoulder tensed. The world around them went mute, her chest tightening in response. His feet came to a stop, and slowly, he turned to face her once more. Raven could feel his eyes glaring at her with enough intensity to tear a hole in her skull, but she was decided not to back off. “What did you just say?”

“I-I… I know who you are.”

“You’re delusional.” He said, trying to deny her words. “You must have mistaken me for—“

“Damian, I know it’s you.” She spoke, confidently. “I know your secret. I’ve known it for almost 5 years now.”

His hands turned into fists, and in a blink of an eye, he walked back towards her. A mix of anger and bewilderment exhaled from him, and she could hear his heavy breaths moving his chest. His hands were once more on her shoulders, his grip tighter than last time in order to prevent her from escaping. “Who are you? Who told you about my identity?”

“You can call me Raven…” She started, her amethyst eyes on him. Though she knew he could end her life if he wanted to, she was not afraid. No of him. “And over five years ago, I’ve received your secret in a dream. I believe you also know a secret of mine.”

His grip on her loosened a bit, as if he was taken aback by her words. If anything, Damian is a very intelligent man, and at that moment, he certainly knew the meaning behind her words. He knew she was his soulmate. However, she didn’t know what he would do about that.

“Shit.” He mumbled, quickly taking his hands off her. She saw his eyes squinting as he observed her, his hands turning back into fists. “This shouldn’t be happening right now.”

“I know. I didn’t mean to follow you here or anything, but—“

“You have to go, Raven.”

“What?”

“Get out of here. Now!” He commanded, his voice not leaving any space for discussion.

“But Damian, I—“

“Don’t call me that!” He scolded her. “Get out of here and go home. I need to get back there and help Batman.”

“And what about us!? I can’t leave and wait for another miracle to bring us together. I know you have things to do, but we need to do something about this! Don’t push me away!”

“I’m not pushing you away, Raven! I—“

“Yes, you are! I’m not going anywhere! Not until—“

“Will you just shut up?!” Suddenly, she felt his hands pulling her closer by her coat, and in a rough move, he sealed her cold lips with his warm ones. Her heart was racing inside her chest, her mind spiraling as she tried to understand what on earth was going on.

Damian was kissing her. That or he just wanted her to stop talking, really. Still, their lips were touching and as something inside her lit up, it was as if all of that anxiety gave in. Her breath was caught up in her throat, and all the words she had planned on using to prove her point were now completely forgotten.

“Can’t you see I’m trying to protect you?!” He pulled away, his hands still clutching her coat. His cheeks were tinged in a light shade of red, as he continued to scold her. She could feel his grip loosening, and slowly, he bit his lower lip. “Just find somewhere safe, Raven… I’ll find you again, I promise.”

His voice came out as a tender whisper, knocking down whatever was left of her previous bravery. Her entire body was growing warmer, now, and even if she had been afraid of letting him go, Raven knew she should follow his words and seek shelter somewhere. He was going to find her once everything was over, he told her, and oddly enough, she knew she could trust him.

A weak nod was all she could give him at that moment, but it proved itself enough for him. He nodded back, and after holding onto her stare for a second longer, Robin turned away and ran back to where the fight was happening. She watched him as he disappeared in the distance, and though she didn’t want to see him go, her warm heart didn’t break.

He was coming back for her; she knew it. He would find her again.

And until then, Raven was going to wait for him.

Once she recovered from all the things that had happened, the raven-haired girl looked away and started to run towards the exit of the subway station. She didn’t look back nor did she doubt his words, instead; she ran away, looking for a place to hide.

———————

Waiting for him, she discovered, was a lot easier now that they had something palpable connecting them. The days went by faster. Soon, winter melted into spring, and for the first time in her life, the flowers seemed more colorful than before. The weather was warm, birds were chirping, and Gotham city seemed to welcome the sun into its dark streets.

Her world had changed after that day. It was only natural, she knew, now that she had finally met the person she was destined to be with for the rest of her life. It was weird and unsettling, at first, but she came to terms with it after she had time to sleep on it and demystify a thing or two about finally meeting her soulmate.

The first and most important thing: she was not in love with him. At least, not yet. Meeting her soulmate for the first time didn’t make her fall in love with him at first sight like some people like to say. It didn’t change her life as much as she had expected it to, and if she were to be honest, Raven was quite happy about it.

She wanted to understand why they were so compatible before giving in to fate. She wanted to understand him without anything clouding her thoughts, and she wanted him to do the same about her.

Above all, Raven wanted them to have a choice. And if they ended up choosing each other, well, then they would think about what that meant later.

For now, as she rested her elbows against the metal rail that offered her a clean view of the lake, she was just focusing on enjoying her Sunday off. There was a book inside her bag, and she was decided to read a couple of chapters before heading home and getting ready for another week of work.

Just another ordinary day, or so she thought, until he arrived.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw as the young man walked towards her, his hands hidden inside the pockets of his hood. His hair was darker than hers, skin tanner and eyes colored in an emerald green. He stood still, some good 11 inches separating them, and though his face was hidden, she knew it was him.

At last, he had found her.

“You know, you’re not the easiest person to track, Roth.” He started, his voice calm as the wind brushed his cheeks. He was looking at the lake in front of them, and unlike last time, he seemed to be at peace. “Certainly took me longer than I expected.”

“Well, I guess that’s a good thing about being a nobody, right? There are a lot of people like me out there.”

“Maybe.” He sighed, his head now turning to face her as she did the same. “Still, I’m a pretty good detective.”

“With a very good self-esteem, too.” She offered him a small smile, to which he simple smirked.

A moment of silence took over them, as both of the young adults allowed that pure moment to sink in. There was no rush or anxiety lacing their feelings at that moment, much to their contentment, for they could absorb every minor detail of what would be the beginning of the rest of their lives.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone about my secret identity?” He asked, honestly, and her brows furrowed in awe.

In all of those years that she has held onto his secret, never once has Raven considered the idea of telling anyone about it. It was illogical. Irresponsible, even. Had she spoken to the world about who’s the man behind the green mask, his life would’ve been ruined in levels she could never imagine. It could get him killed. And if anything, she didn’t want anything bad to happen to him.

“It was never mine to tell. I could never reveal your secret, Damian.” She spoke, simply, and a smile threatened to tug at his lips.

“Fair enough.” He nodded, letting out a long sigh. “If it helps, I didn’t tell anyone about your secret, either. Though I doubt anyone would be interested to know there was a girl out there who’s afraid of popping balloons.”

A sincere chuckle escaped the depths of her core, and that alone brought a smile to his face. Of all the secrets she holds, that one childish thing was the one chosen to be revealed to him. The forces of the universe certainly weren’t kind to him, even if that was probably not a common fear out there. Still, there were definitely more people who were afraid of popping balloons than fighting crime as Batman’s iconic sidekick. His secret made him unique.

His secret has brought them together.

“I guess not even your detective skills could help you on that, right?”

“It would’ve taken me a lot of time if I were to use just that information, but I’m sure I would’ve found you.”

“Oh, and how can you be so sure?”

“I just know it. We were bound to meet, anyway, so there’s no point in debating how.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She agreed, not wanting to press on useless matters. They were together now, and that was all she cared about.

“Also, after that day, even in the middle of that crowd, I saw you first. I didn’t really understand why at first, but I guess it has something to do with this thing.”

“Probably. I know little myself, to be honest. Thought that when I found you, things would make a little more sense.”

“And how’s that going so far?”

“Honestly?” She asked, tilting her head to the right, her short hair brushing her cheeks. “I still have no freaking clue of what to do next.”

“That makes two of us, then.” He sighed, leaning forward and resting his arms over the metal rail. His hood was still covering his head, and even if she knew better, Damian looked like a normal guy at that moment. He didn’t look like the son of Bruce Wayne, let alone Batman’s partner.

At that moment, he was just a normal guy talking to a normal girl about normal things. And for a reason she couldn’t quite understand, that brought her peace. Perhaps they weren’t so different, after all.

Perhaps they could even make it work.

A tender smile took over her lips, and slowly, she took a step closer to him. Raven extended her hand towards him, and her eyes watched as he quirked an eyebrow in confusion. “Why don’t we start from the beginning, then? I know you’ve skipped a few steps when you kissed me the other night, but… Whatever. I’m Rachel, but you can call me Raven.”

His eyes watched her for a moment too long, and it was as if she could see the wheels turning inside his head. Eventually, though, a sly smile took over his lips, and he reached out for her hand. His hand was calloused, but his touch was warm; and together, they shook hands. “Damian. Nice to meet you, Raven.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Damian.”

There was really no telling what would happen, or even if anything would happen at all. Still, at that moment, both of them were ready to try it. They already knew each other’s secrets so, perhaps, they could try to learn another thing or two.

fin.

-----------

a/n: I had this idea while browsing Pinterest for some Soulmate AU ideas and I LOVED writing it! Honestly, this is my very first soulmate AU ever and I really enjoyed playing with this weird scenario. It’s by far the one theme I loved the most to write, and I hope you’ve enjoyed it! Please, tell me what you think!

[bigskydreaming]

Okay, long time followers will probably remember having read this, but I can’t find the original post and I’m trying to like.....force-reboot/jumpstart me working on my ‘Kings of the Sky’ AU again because I haven’t touched it in awhile and I have like literally eight different installments in various stages of completion and that’s ridiculous even for me. So here’s a repost of the first part of “Teachable Moments” the canon-divergence point of that AU series, where Jason calls Dick for advice after the Garzonas case and everything changes from there.

******

The way Jason Todd warily eyed the device in his hand, one might think it was an instrument of great and terrible destructive power, rather than just…his own personal cell-phone.

To be fair, he was Robin, and pretty used to the idea that even the most unlikely of things could be used for evil in Gotham. It could’ve been stolen and replaced at some point by a henchperson of Mr. Freeze, and using it could unleash some kind of cryogenic freeze ray that would turn him into a Robinsicle. Mad Hatter could be up to shit again, and dialing the phone at this very minute might mean syncing it up with a remote radio signal that would override his natural brainwaves and turn him into Tetch’s mindless minion of like…doom and stuff. Or…or…

Or sometimes, even in Gotham a phone is just a phone, and Freud is still a dumbass. And neither of the above possibilities had anything to do with why Jason was being a giant freaking pansy about entering the last digit of the phone number he would never ever admit to having had memorized for months now.

Nightwing had said to call if he ever needed to talk. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t actually want Jason to call, right? Like, its not as if Jason had remotely been expecting him to do that, so its not the sort of thing someone did just because it was ‘expected’ or shit. He was pretty sure. Rich people manners were weird though. Had to factor that in.

But Nightwing had also even made a point to say not talking to people about stuff was Bruce’s problem and that Jason shouldn’t let it be his problem too, and even though months ago Jason had been a starry-eyed dumbass who was totally drunk on the Bruce is the Bestest Kool-Aid or whatever, ‘Wing had definitely known what he was talking about there. So maybe he’d get it, and having this conversation with him wouldn’t be. Like. The actual worst idea in the history of ever.

Deductive logic said that Jason was getting worked up over nothing and there was no rational reason for him to be this nervous about dialing a fucking phone number. And he’d gotten pretty good at the whole deduction shit, given all the work he and Bruce had put into training his mind to view the world through entirely new paradigms, so Jason was pretty sure his math on that checked out. But on the other hand, Bruce was a hypocritical asshat that Jason was currently not speaking to, so what the fuck did he know about anything?

Aaaaand he was back to square one. Well damn. This was excellent. Very productive. Good hustle out there, Jay.

Sighing gustily, Jason flopped back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and trying to pretend he hadn’t gotten used to how luxurious and cushion-y his ridiculously expensive mattress was. He’d gotten soft, he told himself. Then he scoffed at the idea that the past year and a half of rigorous Robin training and patrols had made him less tough than the pipsqueak he’d been back when living on the street, getting his ass kicked by bigger and badder on the regular. That hadn’t been hardness, that had been bravado.

But it had gotten him this far in life, so maybe there was something to be said for it after all?

Ugh. Decisions were hard. He objected on principle. He also really wanted to understand why he was this nervous…if he could literally fill the guy’s shoes and kick supervillain ass as Robin, what freaking sense did it make that he couldn’t even call him up on the phone?

Maybe you just know better than to ask him questions you don’t really want to hear his answer to, a smug voice said in the back of his mind. It sounded suspiciously like Willis Todd, which was all kinds of weird and fucked up, cuz Jason was damn sure his abusive a-hole of a deadbeat dad had never said anything that insightful in his life.

Which meant it was his own screwed up subconscious - presenting in the voice of his not so dearly departed douchebag dad, no less - that had Jason reacting out of spite, entering the last number and hitting Talk, all while totally on autopilot. Because apparently we’re all making healthy life choices in this Chili’s tonight, Jason snickered somewhat hysterically while his phone rang once, twice, three times.

Ugh. Was he always this fucked up in the head and he just never noticed, or was it a side effect of running around rooftops in a cape. Inquiring minds wanted to know.

“Hello?” Someone said then, answering on the fourth ring. Jason sat bolt upright, his nervous humor vanishing as quickly and unexpectedly as it’d hijacked him in the first place. For all that he’d only actually interacted with the older man a few times, his voice was instantly recognizable. As was his slight confusion.

Right. Because why would Nightwing have the untraceable number of the latest burner phone Bruce had given Jason, when the ever paranoid Bat had him swapping out phones every freaking week? Duh, Jay.

“Uh, its me,” Jason said hastily, as if he could somehow catch up to and overtake the epically long ten second silence he let lapse before his mouth started making words again. “Jason?”

“Jaybird! Hey! What’s going on?” The older vigilante’s tone instantly morphed into one of surprised delight, so apparent even across the phone that Jason actually pulled it away from his ear and stared at it, as if that could explain Nightwing’s inexplicable giddiness. He’d literally only met the dude three times. Give or take a concussion he was forgetting about maybe? Weird.

Then again, the older man was a circus performer from birth. Might just be good at faking being super excited to hear from people? Whatever. Still weird.

“Uh, you said to call if I was ever having, I dunno, issues with Bruce I guess? So I kinda had a question? I mean, if you’re not busy or anything.”

Just one question? Willis’ voice asked snidely, echoing in time with the rapid tripartite beat of Jason’s heart. Since apparently everything Jason said was trying to come out with a question mark attached to the end of it at the moment. Ugh, fuck you, subconscious, Jason thought forcefully, even as he ransacked the recesses of his mind for that bravado he was thinking about earlier. It had to be in here somewhere…

“No worries dude, I’ve got time. Hit me!” Nightwing said cheerfully. His lighthearted cadences were so at odds with the sweat suddenly breaking out on Jason’s forehead, the younger teen couldn’t help but wince in anticipation of its inevitable change once he got his actual question out. This was a bad idea, he decided, way too fucking late for it to make a difference. He had a hunch Nightwing wouldn’t be content to ‘just forget it’ or whatever even if Jason chickened out now.

So he took a deep breath, shrugged and did what Jason Todd did best. Said fuck it, put pedal to the metal, and drove at full speed for the metaphorical police barricade that was his way of picturing all the things telling him He Should Definitely Just Not.

“Do you think I’m someone who could kill somebody in like, cold blood?”

Aaaaand there went the lightheartedness. Well, he’d definitely stone cold killed that, Jason thought grimly into the silence that followed.

“Huh,” Nightwing said at last. “You’re gonna have to give me a second to switch gears here, Jay. I was kinda expecting something along the lines of ‘how do I avoid Bruce giving me the safe sex talk.’”

Jason flushed and nodded jerkily, not that the older man could see it. Still, it’d been enough of a workout just getting to this point. He didn’t trust what might come out of his mouth next if he kept trying to force it. Thankfully Nightwing didn’t make him wait too long before continuing.

“I think anyone’s capable of killing somebody in the right circumstances,” Jason’s predecessor began carefully. Except that was not remotely what he wanted to hear. Or helpful.

“I’m not looking for platitudes,” Jason grit out, not angry at the other vigilante so much as the whole fucked up mess and his inability to think about anything else at this point. “It’s just a simple fucking question. You’ve met me, do you think like, I’d be capable of just killing somebody or not.”

“I’m not offering platitudes,” Nightwing continued calmly, as if he wasn’t phased by the younger boy’s interruption or sudden aggression at all. “And its not a simple question at all. Speaking from experience, most people wouldn’t think of an eight year old as a cold-blooded killer, but that’s what I could have been if Bruce hadn’t stopped me from killing my parents’ murderer when I first tracked him down. And yet that’s still totally different from when I held a gun on Two-Face barely a couple years later, about to shoot him because somebody else told me to, and because I wanted to hurt him like he’d hurt me. Wouldn’t you agree those are two different situations and two different ‘kinds’ of cold-blooded killer? Context is kinda a big deal here.”

Huh. First off…what the fuck? Jason stared blankly up at the ceiling, trying to hurry up the processing functions of his brain because, again, what the fuck? He was like ninety nine percent positive none of that had been in the Dick Grayson Is The Greatest and Here Are All The Reasons Why brochure he’d had read to him every time someone new found out he was Wayne’s newest stray, and like. Uh. Yeah, that part would have definitely stood out. Because once more, with feeling:

“What the fuck?”

Oops. That hadn’t been supposed to be out loud. Bad mouth. Bad.

Nightwing just did a weird kinda half laugh half sigh combo. Rueful, Jason would describe it, if he were describing it to someone else, which it kind of felt like he was, relaying the conversation to himself now that it’d taken a hard right turn into the surreal.

“Blindsided you with that, huh? Sorry, should’ve figured neither of those are the kinda stories Bruce would want to share with you. Then again, I don’t really have any idea what Bruce has told you about me.”

“Not much,” Jason admitted. Which was a major source of irritation, if he was being honest. The much sung praises of Dick Grayson came from literally everyone he met except for Bruce. Who usually just got a pinched expression whenever Jason brought him up, and a rapid subject change that was not nearly as subtle as Bruce seemed to think it was.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Nightwing sighed. “I hope you haven’t put too much stock in anything else you’ve heard about me then. I’ll admit to a bad habit of enjoying my mystique, so secondhand hearsay tends to lose my best nuances.”

Despite himself, Jason’s lips curved up and he let out a rueful huff of his own. “I mean, this definitely isn’t where I saw this conversation going.”

The older man chuckled. “Thought I was going to just assume the worst and chuck the book at you?”

“Well. Yeah.” Jason shrugged, even though he knew it wouldn’t come across. “Bruce did.”

Nightwing heaved an exasperated breath. “Yeah, that’s kinda the thing about B. Sometimes, he’s great. Other times, he’s an ass. Its kinda an either or thing. He’s never really mastered the art of finding a midpoint between two extremes. Mostly because he’s never seen the point of aiming for middle ground.”

“Well its not like he’s ever really had to,” Jason griped. It just slipped out before he could stop it, leaving him feeling guilty for bad-mouthing B when he wasn’t around to defend himself. Especially since he knew Nightwing wasn’t the guy’s biggest fan these days. But he couldn’t deny it also felt good, in a way.

To his surprise, Nightwing just laughed. And not even in a malicious, spiteful kind of way, but almost relieved.

“God, thank you. You’d think that ‘hey, so my billionaire guardian kinda has entitlement issues’ would be a water is wet kind of revelation, but try saying something like that to pretty much anyone else…”

“And they look at you like you’re an ungrateful asshole?” Jason finished for him. Not that he’d ever actually tried saying that to anyone before, though he’d definitely thought it a time or two. But he could all too easily imagine the reactions he’d get, which was pretty much why he’d never gone so far as to speak the words.

“Yup,” Nightwing drawled, dragging out the p and popping it with emphasis. “And its not about being grateful or not, its just…there are some parts of everyone that just aren’t up for grabs, for other people to weigh in on or take charge of, you know? And a lot of people just don’t get that…because nobody’s ever tried it with them, or had to deal with expectations that…overstep, let’s call it?”

“Is that why you left?”

Jason winced the second it left his mouth. Too far. Definitely way too far, but he’d just gotten unexpectedly comfortable with the back and forth, and now he’d done the overstepping thing himself and was left with just dead air.

But ten seconds of heavy silence stretched into twenty, and went no further, as Nightwing sighed into his side of the phone again.

“The spiteful part of me wants to say it was more of a push than me just up and leaving,” he laughed again, but this time with unmistakable bitterness. “But even while that’s true, its not really the right answer to your question, because no matter how much of a clusterfuck that was at the time, its not…I mean, I knew at the time how to fix it. Where and how I needed to cave in order to make up with him and let things get back not quite to normal, but at least close enough.”

The pause wasn’t as heavy or tense this time, as Jason could almost sense the older man gathering his thoughts, trying to put them into words. He bit his lip rather than risk any more unexpected utterances escaping. This might not have been where he’d thought his phone call would lead, but now that he was here, hearing the answers to questions he’d wanted to ask for over a year and finding them almost comfortably familiar, he wasn’t going to risk distracting Nightwing or shutting him up for well. Anything.

“But it would have meant me caving. Settling in ways that I just…couldn’t. So in a way, yeah, I did leave, it was still my choice. And all of that was definitely a big part of it. I love Bruce, I do. I just couldn’t live with him anymore. Not without feeling like I had to give up my own autonomy and just be what he wanted. Or what he’d expected me to grow up to be, back when he first took me in. And as grateful as I am to him for that, I can’t honestly say I would have stuck around back then if I knew that was the price tag attached. I’m not…I don’t do well with people trying to force me to stick to one place, one thing. I was born on the road, you know? When I was a kid, I expected to spend the rest of my life living like that. Home was people. Not places. And so Gotham…its never fit me quite right, the way it does him, or even Barbara. Its not like I was miserable there, its just.”

“It wouldn’t have been your first choice,” Jason finished again, quietly. There was silence again for awhile.

“No. No, it wouldn’t have been. Not then.”