#god................. it's actually a little funny how my brain can seemingly only focus on two things at a time LMFAOOOOOOO | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

contorted-curruptions · 3 years

Text

*-Mug Shot-*-Poly KiriBaku X reader-*-part one-*

Note: Surprise Saturday, I got carried away with the story and thought it might be best to section it off in two parts so you’ll be getting this one and another post tomorrow peeps, I hope you enjoy my first attempt at a story like this one. Smut is not in this one so if you are looking for that you’ll find it tomorrow, until then please feel free to enjoy this. Also all characters are aged up and the time the story takes place is when they are already pro heroes, so keep that in mind.

=============================================================

Running, running, the sound of bare feet harshly pounding across the hard surface of the ground below. The pavement cold and merciless on your bare feet, you feel the damage from all the running with no shoes. As you run the sound of your terror echoes out across the soundless night, the streets so empty, not like how they usually are in the daytime. Not a soul will hear you and if they do it’ll be a little too late. It’s dark and only the street lights give you any semblance of where you are going. You hear and feel your heartbeat pounding away in your chest, that feeling becoming more painful with each pound. You feel yourself falter a bit more but you can’t afford to stop, can’t afford to stop running even for a minute. You know they have to be hot on your tail, know they won’t waste time in giving chase once they know you have fled the scene, that most horrifying scene that you left behind. The images flash through your mind as you ran churning your stomach and bringing fresh tears to your eyes. You stifle a sob but that makes your chest clench most painfully but worst of all in this panic while you turn into an alleyway you haven’t noticed the glass scattering across the entrance of the alley. Though you become sorely aware of it once your feet make contact with the shards causing you to let out a scream at the pain shooting through the fresh wounds the glass makes. You wind up tumbling to the ground, you scuff up your hands and knees as you make contact earning more painful noises from you. You fell unceremoniously on the ground in a small heap. Those sobs you kept in achingly inside your chest burst out and you howl out, hot tears now streaming down your face.

For a moment you lose your resolve while you lay there in that heap on the pavement. The pain from all the running through the city catching up with you. Your breathing erratic and you are finding it hard to catch the breath that you lost during this chase. You feel dizzy, your entire body aching in agony, and for this time all you can focus on is the sheer panic coursing through your entire form. You need to get up, need to, have to, you can’t just keep lying like this out in the open, they’ll find you. Another surge of adrenaline gives you the energy you need, you rise to your feet and start running again. You are ignoring the pain in your feet and in other areas of your body which is over-exhausting. You’re Focusing on what is dead ahead of you, a building that looks abandoned. You can focus on much of anything else except the idea of escaping, the idea you can hide and rest a moment. Though, you have to wonder what you are going to do. You can’t run forever and you doubt hiding will do you much good either. No, not when facing off with two pro heroes who are much more experienced than you. Two pro heroes and friends you never had thought until now would have done something like this in the first place and no one else will believe such a claim either. No one will convict two heroes that have done nothing but good.

These thoughts alone left you feeling alone, so very alone. Who do you turn to in a time like this one? Who will even believe you? You, a simple book store clerk and hobbyist selling random things for fun? You are what most would call a nobody, just another face in the crowd, which is why you have to wonder what wound you up getting mixed up with these two in the first place. However, this is no time to think about that. There is no time to be drudging back into the past when what you need to focus on is finding a solution to your problem. A solution that doesn’t come easy or seemingly at all. The alarm of this chase slowly starts to dull into confusion as to why you haven’t been hearing anything from the two who should be hunting you down right now. You haven’t even seen a glimpse of either of the two males you figure are after you currently. Everything quiet and dark, not a sound, not a peep, nothing. You pause your running once reaching the abandoned building and making your way inside. You pant and groan, your lungs and everything else feeling like they are on fire. You place your hands on your knees and take in a deep gasp of breath before coughing loudly. You are choking and gasping after all that running, that dizzy feeling coming back to you. You stumble to the wall and lean against it, you in this tiring state slide down not caring about the filth on it or the ground under you, and there is trash along with other more grimy looking things all around, nonetheless at the moment, you choose to ignore it. Your body too worn and your mind still scattering about too much to really mind it all. All you need is to breathe, that is all you can think, you need a moment. Maybe if lucky, they aren’t chasing you after all. You can only hope that is the case yet you can’t be too certain so you know you can’t linger for too long.

“Fuck...fuck...it stings damn it…why…?!”

You curse under your breath finally starting to feel the glass in your feet you didn’t bother to remove before. You are fearful to even look at the bottoms of your feet right now, you can only imagine how torn up they must look currently, The blood. Looking off you can see the small trail leading to you. You let out a small whimper as you raise your hands to look at them. They too sting badly from falling a few times before. Looking them over it seems they have been torn up pretty badly. A few rocks rest under the skin now, you poke at the bloody and bruising flesh trying to scoot a rock from under the flesh to get it out only to hiss from how it feels to do so and once more curse.

“Damn it…stings...”

You say in a whimper as you move to curl up into yourself, more tears start to cascade down your cheeks, that tight feeling in your chest returning.

“(BF/n), oh god...what am I...?!”

You curl up and start sobbing the images of your beloved’s corpse chard and beaten to a pulp on the floor creeping into your brain, it once more causes you to feel sick. It makes you want to vomit. The smell, the sight, the screaming before all that, those are things you know you’ll never forget. All of them tear you up inside, this is all your fault after all if it weren’t for taking on that project for the two pro heroes you wouldn’t have been winding up here, would you?

It had been a simple day, one like any other, the sky was bright and sunny dotted with a few clouds which you had remembered you stared up at that day. It was very nice unlike tonight, cold and unbearable regardless you remember you woke up beside your lover then. Your boyfriend had given you a good morning kiss like always ever since you had moved in together. Honestly, you hadn’t been in that house together all that long, only a couple of months but those moments spent together had been a dream. A dream you hadn’t wanted to wake up from. You would both get up and get ready to go to work. That morning you showered together, you both got a bit frisky that morning. You and your boyfriend would make out tongues danced together while your arms would be wrapped around each other. You could feel how well your bodies fit together.

Hard to believe that is all over now, that lovely little dream with your boyfriend dead, as dead as he is now. You will never feel that perfect fit with him again. Knowing that sends another wave of pain through you and causes another sob to echo out from your chest as you shiver and wish for the warmth of your lover. Right now you feel more cold and alone than ever before.

Continuing that trip down memory lane, you could recall you left the house alone that day. Your boyfriend would take his car to work and you would walk, being that you didn’t live that far away from the book store which you work at. You can’t help but think that years ago you wouldn’t have seen yourself working in such a place and it’s not because you don’t like books more so you have problems dealing with people. It fills you with a lot of anxiety to deal with things most days. Honestly, you feel you might have just wasted away if it wasn’t for your boyfriend who always seemed to have your back when you needed it. What are you going to do now that he is gone? Are you going to spiral out of control? No, somehow you will stay strong for his sake.

Regardless, continuing on. The day moved forward normally nothing seemed out of place, not even the random email you had gotten when you came home. The email was another commission for a project by another faceless person. You didn’t know that this request would wind you up in deep trouble later, in that deep trouble now. The commission seemed all too normal. The client wanted something special done for an anniversary gift for their boyfriend which seemed very cute to you. Really you sort of like hearing from the clients more than most do. The theme was simple it was to be a Red Riot and Ground Zero themed item or rather mugs. They wanted it to be a bit flashy or at least the art on them to be, it was something you could do, Honestly. Despite not being that into heroes, you were happy to do this for the client. You love making things and even more so making those who enjoy your work happy. So like with any other client you got to work after you sorted through the details, and actually, you were very excited. This was something you could do with your boyfriend, he was much more into the whole hero thing than you were and still are. Funny enough your boyfriend did like those two in particular. They were heroes that he very much enjoyed so that day you learned quite a lot about the pair of heroes in question.

The project went on as normal and with your newfound information, you made the gift extra special. You wanted to be very specific to the client’s taste so you tried to ask questions however they seemed very lax about everything they had said that they trusted your judgment. You didn’t mind this one bit. You had given the client updates and he seemed to like them. Eventually, the day came for the project to be done and you shipped them out. You had been very proud of your work and even your boyfriend was. Actually, Your boyfriend had got all pouty, he wished he could keep them which you had found funny then...what you would give to be able to hear him laugh again, to see that smile, and now that was stolen from you.

For a long while, things seemed alright, there had been no word from the client. However, you had been paid so you assumed they were happy with what they had gotten. It wasn’t until a full two months later that things started to kick off again. The day had started normal enough, you made it to the bookstore on time, and would work as you normally would. That day was quiet, not many customers, and most of the day spent slacked off with your coworker while doing what needed to be done around the store. Though at some point the bell on the door would sound it would call you back to the front of the store. A young man with crimson red spikey hair and eyes was the one who sounded the bell when he walked in. Upon further inspection your eyes would widen you would form a recognition with the redhead in the store, it was the hero Red Riot. You couldn’t help but stand there dumbfounded.

“H-Hello and welcome to Nook Books, how can I help you?”

That had been what you said when you finally had found your words, your voice had come out in a bit of a stutter and you had given him a small nervous laugh. He responded to your more shy behavior with merely a smile and offered up an adorable laugh of his own, which actually eased your own anxiety towards the situation at the time.

“Hey there, yeah I could actually use a bit of help finding a book.”

You would smile at the young hero and gave a small nod, you of course were always happy to help the customer, and there was no exception then either. Not to mention you were face to face with the hero Red Riot and at that time you had been oh too excited to be in his presence for the fact you could tell your boyfriend about the encounter. Maybe if you were lucky you could get an autograph, or maybe at least a picture, though to be honest you also hadn’t wanted to bother him so you so it was just a debate in your mind. you at the time though knew it would make your boyfriend happy if you would get it.

“Ah yes, well I’m happy to help, what book are you looking for?”

You would offer up one of your best smiles and try not to fidget too much however you had already shifted to and fro a bit out of nervousness already.

“Ah well, haha, I kinda don’t know…”

You would blink a moment in confusion but nod a moment before you responded.

“You don’t know? Are you buying for someone else?”

You would question a moment, you thought maybe his mind had been on someone else when he thought of the book he wanted, it might have been a gift if he wasn’t sure what kind of book he was on the look for however just as well he might just not had been sure what type of book he needed for himself, but something told you it wasn’t for him, you had a felt that way anyway.

“Haha, yeah, it isn’t for me, though he’s very special to me, he’s a bit difficult to buy for sometimes. Do you have any books that would be more action-packed and manly?”

You had smiled when you listened to his explanation for who it was for and even giggled when you heard what exactly he was had been in search for. There were many, many books on hand that could cover what he wanted but with so little given and that he said the other was difficult to buy for well it seemed like a slightly daunting task. Even so at that time you were determined to find the perfect book for this special someone that he had talked about. You smiled and worked very hard, you asked specific questions to try and get a better gauge on what type of book to get. If only you had known what you had been dealing with back then you wouldn’t have worked as hard as you did to make him happy. You wouldn’t have been as pleasant to him, but sadly you hadn’t known and you had been as positive and polite as possible. You even asked more than you would have given your normal comfort zone. You had tired yourself out on one customer something you wouldn’t usually do, but you wanted to impress the male. You wanted to make sure someone like him left very happy. You did manage that, you got him the perfect book, after you found that book for him you brought him over to the register to check him out.

“I think that book will make him smile, and if it doesn’t feel free to hold me accountable.”

You would chirp out as you rang up the book, you had a good conversation with the young hero. He’d even told you his name which was interesting to know. Kirishima seemed to talk about Ground Zero. Of course, it was said they were good friends so you supposed that was only natural, and he’d mentioned a few other interesting aspects about himself which had tickled you to learn about. It wasn’t every day you could have said you got to talk to a pro hero.

“Don’t worry, I trust your judgment, I don’t think you’d steer me wrong haha.”

You would nod and laugh as you placed the book in a bag and told him how much the book would be, Kirishima would pay you and you would hand him the bag, of course surprisingly he didn’t rush off after that, he would stick by the counter a moment.

“Before I go, would you like an autograph or something?”

He had given you a big grin and you would blink, you had held back and tried not to ask because you hadn’t wanted to bother him and there he asked you about what you had wanted from him, almost too eager you lept at the opportunity.

“Y-Yes actually I’d love that, my boyfriend is a big fan.”

At the first part of your statement it would seem that Kirishima was very happy to hear what you had to say but as you look back on it now you realize that he had twitched lightly, he had made a small change in his facial expression that said something else when you mentioned your boyfriend, you thought nothing of it back then but now it was very apparent that he was upset to hear you were with someone and that the reason you wanted a picture and autograph was because of him and not because you were a fan.

“Yeah? Alright then, glad I could help you make his day like you made mine.”

After that, you would get to pose with him for a picture and he would sign a piece of notebook paper for you, it was the only thing you had on hand at the moment, but he happily signed it for you. You also hadn’t noticed that he looked for more reasons to make conversation with you but your coworker interrupted and him unlike your boyfriend wasn’t very fond of heroes so he could care less that one was in the store other than the fact it meant that the store might get a good review from someone who mattered.

“(Y/n), I need you to do something for me in the back.”

Your coworker would speak up, you could tell from the tone of his voice he just wanted to hurry things along.

“Oh, I don’t want to keep you. It was nice to meet you, (Y/n). Hopefully, I’ll see you again.”

With that Kirishima had given you a small smile and wave before he made his way to the door.

“Yeah, you too, have a lovely day, I hope the person you were buying for enjoys your gift!!”

You would call back to him before he fully left, you hadn’t thought about how he used your first name, you didn’t tell him he couldn’t then, which would come to be a mistake later, many things would lead to being mistakes you couldn’t have fathomed being so problematic. After that meet with him, you had continued work only to be nagged by your coworker about doing your job in a timely fashion which irked you quite a lot but you hadn’t let it ruin your day. Like you assumed your boyfriend would be over the moon to see the autograph and to see the picture you had been so pleased to see his smile, that night was one to remember, Your boyfriend had been so excited he made love to you. Part of you doesn’t want to remember that part, only because it’s yet another thing that you will never have from him again, and giving the current situation, you find it inappropriate.

Suddenly you hear a loud bang echo out, a growl and cussing from not too far away from where you are in the building. Your heart begins pounding in your chest, it looks like those who were chasing you after you had fled are finally here to collect you. Your breathing picks up and you move scrabbling to your feet. If you stay here they’ll find you for sure, that is all that you are thinking about, you need to escape and now.

“Where the fuck are you (Y/n)!! I know you’re fucking here, can’t hide forever idiot!!”

215 notes · View notes

sup-hoes-its-me · 3 years

Text

Emotion (Kakashi x Reader)

A/N: Kakashi again...can't get enough of this mans tbh. U r an empath due to your kekkei genkai and Kakashi has always been difficult to read. Friend to lovers. Sharing one bed folks, we got some steamyyy shit here. Angst warning as well.

Word count: 6000

He was always alone. Ever since his childhood, he walked the world completely alone with only a few people there to support him. No mother, no father, no mentor, no teammates. He was at the mercy of fate his entire life, things being stolen from him time and time again.

He just prayed that he could keep her. Y/N L/N, the only woman to have wormed her way into his heart and made a home there.

When they first met, Kakashi and Y/N, she cursed him for being such a weirdo. Apparently his mind was empty and his heart was seemingly full of sand. He was conditioned that way, and that is how he lived for the longest time. It wasn't a surprise for him to hear that.

But she thought it was stranger than anything she'd ever seen, and so she followed him. She would figure him out, bring him back down to Earth from his supposed high horse. That woman was determined, and frankly he didn't mind her being around. She was quiet enough that it didn't matter. Not to mention on the missions they had together, she was quite the partner.

Over time, she'd learned to read him like a book. It was part of her clan's kekkei genkai. The ultimate empath, I suppose. The ability to read a persons every single emotion and then turn that, if they so choose, into power.

She was never the greatest fighter, but her negotiation skills were the best they could possibly be. She would dive into the emotions of another and manipulate them backwards and forwards to get what she wanted.

It was overwhelming, walking into a room of people and immediately being bombarded with so many feelings coming at her all at once. Occasionally, if the situation was bad enough she'd have to take a seat and clear her mind, organizing each person in her mind like a filing cabinet of empathy.

But damn, did she try to weasel out every bit of feeling she could. It was just something that came so naturally, she couldn’t help but instigate whatever was brewing up inside him.

"Kakashi, if you're happy, you know you're allowed to express it. You don't have to hide it away," she told him, staring at the masked man sitting across from her at the table. He was watching as she sharpened her kunai, and she could feel the content running off his body in small bursts. He was feeling better. Better than he had in a little while. Of course she picked up on it.

He sighed, rolling his eyes. She was always reading him, he knew that. He just preferred when she refrained from mentioning it. It did, most times, feel like a bit of an invasion of privacy, how she could deep dive into the corners of his mind. There were things no one else could ever possibly know that she did. It was strange, but he was used to it.

"What? Want me to smile or something?"

"No, but you should let yourself go. Just drop the facade."

"Stop doing that. Getting into my head."

Quietly, she set down her blade and picked up the next one, taking a cloth and softly wiping away any dirt. Her eyes slide up to his for a moment, her all knowing gaze filling his vision. "It's basically impossible. Especially if you're the only one around. There's nothing else to focus on except you." He knew that. It wasn't like she had an on or off switch. That was the downside of this dojutsu. Unlike sharingan and byakugan users, hers was always pulling the strings of her brain.

"You've got that mission next week. With Naruto and a few of the other kids, right?"

"Yes."

"It's A rank, isn't it?"

She hummed in agreement. He had a habit of knowing about all her missions, more importantly being the dangerous ones. He wasn't necessarily scared for her, probably not. He was more cautious than anything. There was this nagging feeling in his head that he shouldn't let her go on these missions alone. That it was too dangerous for her to handle.

But he was wrong. She was stronger than he thought, and could hold her own in battle. He was just a worrier. He'd just lost too many, seen too many bodies in front of his eyes to trust. God, he wanted to trust her, but he couldn't. She was too vulnerable. His friend, one of the only ones who hadn't died yet. For all he knew, her days numbered, that's how paranoid he was about everything.

"You'll be careful?"

"That's a silly question." He gave her a look that said he was more serious than anything, and she sighed. "Of course I'll be careful. I have people that would miss me if I wasn't." He was one of them. She could sense his fear whenever she said goodbye and his relief when she returned. He really tried to remain objective, but his heart said otherwise.

And she would be a liar to say that she did not experience the same relief seeing him come home from missions, even if he was beaten and bruised to the bone, she was just happy he made it back. So many never got to come home. It was a sick world, they lived in, but she could relish in the little comforts.

"Don't worry about me. I'll always turn out fine. It's you and your dumb students we have to worry about."

"I hear you. Those kids are enough to drive a person mad." He rested his chin in his palm, the mere thought of those kids causing his blood pressure to rise.

"Thankfully my students never gave me any trouble. Sweet little things."

"Well, aren't you just lucky, Y/N?"

"What can I say? Kurenai and I got the luck of the draw with our students. You men had it rough, I have to admit," she laughed. It was funny that he was so unfortunate to have gotten assigned the Uchiha and the Uzumaki, two completely opposite but persistent forces. "Despite your perverted tendencies and your perpetual lateness, you still did a great job teaching them."

"Thanks. But do you really have to call me a pervert? I'm really not."

"Yeah? That explains why you read porn in public. Admit you're a pervert, you dumb old man."

"We're the same age-" he began to argue, but she just cut him off with her harsh words.

"Creep," she muttered, running the sharpening stone along her blade. He narrowed his eyes. She was being awfully annoying, and he knew she could sense his irritation building up. Yet she continued just to be a pain in the ass.

He warned, "Hey. Watch it, L/N."

"Okay, okay, I'll stop...Pervert." She ducked her head when his hand reached out to wring her around the neck for being so frustrating, and she continued to laugh. It was nice, having a friend she could joke with and be around without having to worry about what she said. He might pretend to be mad, but she could feel the happiness still rolling off his body thickly under all that fake neutrality.

He was happier than he'd been in a long while, and she found herself swelling with pride knowing that she might have helped make that happen. Her lips curled into the gentlest of smiles as she peered back up at him, and he found himself smiling back even if it was just through the mask.

He swore in that moment, he'd make sure Y/N didn't end up like all the others. She would live. He'd break this wretched curse just for her. He was sure of it.

______

"How could you be so reckless?! Do you want to die?" Kakashi shouted at his friend who could only stand there angrily, arms crossed over her chest and one foot in the other direction. She didn't need to be lectured by someone who took just as many risks every single mission as she did.

"Kakashi, I really don't want to hear it. You have no idea how it went."

"Yeah but Naruto does, and we were just talking."

She placed her free hand over her chest and exclaimed even angrier than before, "You're going to trust a kid over me? Naruto even?" It was just low to trust Naruto when she was right there to explain herself. Just let her speak for once, she wanted to say but he of course, had something else to say.

He waved his arm toward the ramen shop, eyes glaring. "Don’t be rude. He's right there. What is wrong with you?"

Indeed, Naruto was sitting inside Ichiraku with Jiraiya at his side, munching on pork ramen while the pair fought outside. Kakashi was eating with them, taking a break from his work to just relax with his master and student when out of the corner of his eye he noticed Y/N stumbling down the street on her crutch.

He heard when she got back home that she was in the infirmary for a couple days. He had no idea for what reason until Naruto explained to him what happened. She was being needlessly reckless on the battlefield, relying too much on her kekkei genkai and not enough on her brain. She threw herself right in the way of an enemy, for what reason, he didn't know. All he knew was that she could have died and she didn't seem to care one bit.

Rightfully so, he was mad. Normally he preferred not to make a scene in the open like this, but there wasn't anyone else around and he was red-hot.

She huffed. "He knows I don't mean anything bad by that. How could he not? I'm also his sensei, you know."

"Doesn't matter," Kakashi brushed off her words. "What you did was dangerous and you don't seem to care. Next time what are you gonna do? Run right into the arms of the enemy?"

"No, I would never. Kakashi, you're just being a jerk right now. I'm literally injured from the hip down and you have to yell at me? Jeez, just be grateful I'm alive, okay? Things happen," she tried to reason with him, but he didn't acknowledge it. He wasn't exactly feeling all that rational.

"Things don't just happen like that."

She groaned, "Well apparently they do, because it happened to me."

His eye narrowed and she noticed the way he clenched and unclenched his fists a couple times by his sides. Clearly he was just trying to channel his anger, but he really had no reason to be so upset. She hadn't done anything to him. He really needed to relax. "This is so like you L/N's. Always so emotional. Always thinking you're stronger than you actually are."

"Excuse you-"

"Get a grip, you aren't going to live forever."

"First off, don't interrupt me. Second, don't talk about my clan ever again, you hear me, Hatake? We don't live to please your dumbass," she cursed, how dare he say shit about her clan. That asshole. He was just being so...so unlike himself. She had no idea what had gotten into him, but she hated it and just wanted to continue on her way before he said something else stupid.

Normally, she didn't expect to be bombarded in the street nearly the second she leaves the hospital, but Kakashi never fails to surprise her.

"I've got to go. Don't bother following me." With that, she took off past him, rushing as fast as she could on her crutch, which was pathetically slow. Silently, she cringed at how ridiculous she must look waddling around like this in a fit of rage. Nevermind that. She had better things to do.

He huffed out the breath he had been holding to walk back into the ramen shop, taking his seat beside Naruto and slouching down into the stool. Immediately, Master Jiraiya met his eyes, wisdom about to drip from his tongue once again. "You need to go apologize."

"Why? She clearly doesn't want that right now."

"Well, to start, you insulted her clan which is a big no-no. Imagine saying that to an Uchiha. You're lucky she let you off so easily."

"Yeah, Kakashi. You kinda just attacked her out there in the street," Naruto added.

Jiraiya continued, "Mainly though, the longer you let her stay angry, the worse it'll be for you in the end. Trust me."

"She said don't follow her."

"And you're actually going to listen?" The older man laughed. "You and her fighting reminded me a lot of young Tsunade and I. And let me tell you, you don't just let a woman like that go. I sure did. It’s not a fun time."

"Yeah, Kakashi sensei, go find Y/N."

The jounin stood from his stool and slapped a ramen voucher onto the counter top to pay for his meal. This really didn't seem like a good idea, he had to admit. But he would trust the process. This was the author of his favorite romance series, after all. How could he get something like this wrong? To put blind faith into Jiraiya on realistic romantic matters was probably the not the wisest thing to do, but it was the only thing he had to go on. "I'll go, but this doesn't sound like good advice."

"If you let this go, she's might run into the arms of another man for comfort. Do you want that?"

Tch, there was no way she was gonna do that. She barely had any friends. If anything she would go see Kurenai. Still, he pulled back the cloth at the entrance and muttered, "I gotta catch up to her."

"'Atta boy," Jiraiya cheered, waving off the copy nin. "Another bowl, Naruto?"

"Yes, please!"

Kakashi walked down the streets, looking for the woman he was sent on a mission to find and apologize to. He searched through the shops and the stands for her, walked by her apartment no sign of her. It wasn't until he stumbled by the bookstore that he found her eyeing down the display out front, leaning comfortably on her crutch.

"Y/N," he called to her, and he watched as she tensed up without a second. He caught up to her, walking to stand beside her in front of the store windows. "I need to talk to you."

"What do you want?" She questioned, peering over at him with a quirked brow. He seemed calmed down by now. Thankfully. "Also, didn't I tell you not to follow me?"

"You did, but Jiraiya told me to apologize."

"So this isn't even on your own accord, you're doing it because Jiraiya told you so." He groaned. Of course she would twist his words and find some way to make things bad on his end. She was angry with him, what did he expect to happen? Her to accept him with open arms?

"Listen, I'm sorry for yelling at you. I was just overwhelmed."

"With what? I wasn't paying attention to anything but the anger." She picked at her finger nails in an attempt to remain casual, but really she was just itching to hear what he had to say. She was willing to give him a second chance, only because he was normally so sweet. This was just out of character for him.

He replied, "I was scared for you. Naruto told me about how you nearly died, and I was upset that you did that. I was upset because I could only think about what if you had been overpowered and the enemy killed you." His explanation was weak, but he hoped she would accept it as truth. He really wasn't lying. When he heard she was in the hospital indefinitely, he nearly had a heart attack himself. He worried for her every time she left on a mission without him. It just meant that if she failed, he wasn't there to protect her himself. He couldn't handle that thought.

"So you were worried?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's sweet of you, isn't it?"

"I'd miss you, you know. If you died."

She froze. That wasn't what she expected him to say. When she looked over at him, he was just staring into the storefront window, but she could feel the sadness in waves running off his body. She wobbled around on her crutch to face him, a hand getting coming up to rest on his shoulder. "It's okay."

"I don't want you going on missions without me because every time it scares the shit out of me thinking they'll bring you back dead. Every time. I don't know why."

"It's normal to worry for your teammates."

"It's not the same, and you know it."

"Ah." And she felt it. Even if it was just a little hint of something, she felt his infatuation roll off his body and she took it in like a drink of cold water. So refreshing. Was he attracted to her? She had no idea before this that he cared so much but from the sound of it, he had some strong feelings attached. She wanted to reach out and hug him, tell him it was going to be okay, but that felt too personal. Instead, she leant back and muttered, "You know, Kakashi, I worry about you too."

"It's good we both have someone who cares, right?"

"Right."

"Well, I should be on my way, but, uh, if you need some help getting up to your apartment-"

"I should be fine."

"Okay, good."

"Yeah, so uh, see you," she turned on her heel and started heading in the other direction toward her home when suddenly, his hand reached out to stop her.

"Wait, Y/N. I think..."

"What is it?"

"It's just that I need you. Please be careful from now on."

She stopped, turning around just enough to get a good look at his face. He only watched her, a glimmer of something she didn't recognize in his eye.

"As long as you take care of yourself too, Mister."

"Y/N, I…"

All she could feel was a rough fabric rubbing against her face for a second before the full picture came into view.

Mask to lips. I repeat, mask to lips.

She stared at him, as he kissed her right there in front of their favorite bookstore. When he pulled away after a second, he seemed just as shocked as she was. She pressed a hand to her forehead and struggled to find the right words to say.

Kakashi Hatake just kissed her.

And she definitely liked it. More than any other kiss she’d ever had before. She loved it. Mask or not, that was one of the best surprises of her entire life, and she honestly had no idea how to react. She settled for the easiest possible thing, running in the opposite direction, give herself time to think over what that meant for the two of them if anything at all. Kakashi wasn’t the type to have a girlfriend, he was always single. There just wasn’t room in his life for her.

There was plenty room in her life to fit him in comfortably. And there was more than enough room in her bed as well.

Flustered, with heat coming to sit in her cheeks and run up her neck, she turned and motioned in the direction of her home. She just had too many thoughts to sit here and pretend she wasn’t dying inside from the tension.

"I've got to run home now," she managed to say. "Well, not run, with these crutches and all, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I should be going too. I'll see you around,” he mumbled, running his hand through his hair and down the back of his neck.

"See you."

And into separate directions they went, just as confused as ever.

______

"Kakashi, I swear to God, if you don't stay on your side of the bed, I'm gonna-

"You'll what? Hit me? Go ahead. You're the one that keeps snoring."

"Shut up!" she exclaimed, rolling over in the bed and planting her fist directly in the middle of his chest. He didn't even flinch, she hadn't meant to hurt him anyway. She was just so annoyed. You would think that the stoic Hatake would be easy to sleep beside but no, he was a pain in the ass. He was rude. He was way too hot under the sheets. He still smelled like dog even after taking a bath. Just overall a bad experience, definitely 0 out of 10.

"What? It's the truth."

She groaned, throwing one of her arms over her eyes, burying her nose in the crook of her elbow. "Whatever. Don't ever mention my snoring again. It’s embarrassing me." She was self-conscious. She was usually so good at maintaining a cool and calm presence and now Kakashi was seeing that all crumble. Great.

"Fine."

"Can't you just stay on your side so we can both sleep comfortably?"

"Can't you just stop snoring so I can sleep comfortably?"

What a bastard. She could practically feel him snickering beneath his mask, and she felt frustration bubbling up in her chest. He was annoying. The audacity of this man, laughing and causing trouble in the night when they clearly had a mission to continue tomorrow. She could actually feel the delight radiating off his form.

She jumped up from her spot and threw herself onto the man beside her, attempting to make a vicious grab for the throat so she could maybe shut him up for just a few seconds. He dodged easily, taking her wrists in his calloused hand and lowering them to rest on his chest. Still, he continued to laugh at her. She felt like an utter joke sitting there on his stomach, looking at him through loose strands of her hair.

She grumbled under her breath, her cheeks puffing out full of embarrassment, "Stupid."

"Me? Stupid? Look at you."

She replied swiftly, "What about me? You're the one with that ugly grin on your face." Quickly, she snatched her hands out from under his to cross her arms over her chest. She rocked back a bit on her knees to get a better look at his indeed ugly face.

Except he definitely wasn't ugly, and that grin was more devilishly handsome than anything else. And honestly, she felt herself starting to get flustered in the position she'd put herself in. Of course she didn't hate Kakashi. He was one of her friends and coworkers. It was just that sometimes he could be casually attractive and she found herself falling under his spell.

He just looked so fucking good lying there, staring up at her with a glimmer in his dark eyes. She could see the smile outlined under his mask. His hands had felt warm and firm around her own fingers. She missed his touch, there she said it, any touch on her body from Kakashi Hatake felt like heaven. He was far too cute, and the soft contact between them drove her crazy.

She wanted to punch herself for thinking such silly things. This was Kakashi, one of her frenemies. Not boyfriend material. Stupid. Silly.

If only he didn't look so good, Jesus christ. Get your brain out of the gutter, Y/N.

Little did she know, his mind was already waist deep in those damn gutters and he was loving it.

"You really think that?"

"What? That you're ugly?" She asked, tilting her head to the side just a bit as if to think about it. Only a second later, another mischievous smile crossed her lips. "Of course."

He lifted his fingers to slid along her waist and down to her hips, fingers curling ever so slightly around her curves. She shuddered as his hands slid down to hold the sides of her bare thighs in his hands, his warm, strong hands with the softest fingertips. She wanted to die.

Had they kissed before? Yes. We're they somewhat romantically involved? Maybe. Did that give him any good reason to rest his rough hands on her thighs like that? Probably, and her thoughts were running a mile a minute at this point.

"Kakashi...stop that," she said softly, her voice lowering from how it was before. She suddenly felt a lot smaller, scared even. Hooking up with Kakashi wasn't something she planned on doing anytime in the near future, if at all. He was her friend, and she felt strange sitting in his lap with his hands all over her. It felt so right but wrong at the same time, like she was breaking the law. Well, laws of friendship that is.

She cared about Kakashi, more than she wanted to admit. He wasn't just a friend, he was something weirdly in between and she couldn't exactly put her finger on how she felt about him. All she knew was that if she was going to have sex with this man, it would be the right way. They would have to date first. She wasn't just gonna sleep around this time. He was different.

She wanted to impress him, to make him smile and laugh, to take him out to dinner and hold hands on their way home, to kiss at her doorstep. She wanted all of that before any of this.

His hands dropped from her sides and she crawled away from him, grabbing her blanket and cradling herself in it. "Listen, Y/N, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I know, it's not your fault. Don't worry about it."

It was quiet. Just the sounds of both their breaths filling the air and the crickets chirping in the darkness outside. She shifted in her blanket to rest her head on the wall, leaning against it with her shoulder. He remained on his back, staring up at the empty ceiling tiles.

It was now so terribly awkward. Thanks, Y/N.

Finally, he broke the silence. "You, uh, don't snore all that much. I was just teasing you."

"Thanks," she exhaled. "You're not as ugly as I said."

"I know."

Wow, Kakashi. So modest.

Her words fell right into place as she spoke, emotions slipping out with each breath. She looked at his profile in the dark, the way his bedhead stood on end, his nose pointed upward and his lips sat calmly, the curve of his chin under the edge of his mask, the way his eyes just sat there unmoving and gentle, brows soft above the eye. She took in all of him as she confessed, "I just don't want it to be like this. I don't want to fall for you this way."

"I get it."

"I just think that you and I could be something different. You're not like the other guys to me, at least, I don't think of you that way," she took a deep breath. He still stared deep in the ceiling, and somehow it made her comfortable enough to confess everything she'd been feeling. It was as if he could just lay there and listen without words forever. "I don't want you to just fuck me before we really...well I don't know, we've never even been on a date. I...I think I'm ready to fall in love with you."

"Then let's do it."

She peered over at him, lips agape with surprise. She hadn't expected much at all, but certainly not that. "What?"

"When we get back to the village, I'll take you on a date, more if things go well. We can take it as slow as you want," he told her, turning to lay on his side, facing her. He watched as she cuddled further into the comforter, only a peek of her face in his view. She was actually kinda cute through all those worn and torn layers. "I don't think I can let you go this time."

"Really?"

"Anything for you."

She ducked her head down to stare at the hardwood beneath her feet. She was overwhelmed by how nice he was being. Normally, it didn't go like this. Things normally got sexual so quick there wasn't even a chance for these sorts of conversations. It was just different with Kakashi. She could say no to him and expect better, because she knew he could deliver. "No one has ever treated me like this before."

He smiled. "Well, it's about time someone did."

"Can you hold me?"

"Come on." He lifted his arm up with the covers attached so she could crawl over and burrow herself next him, tucked right against his side. He rested his arm around her shoulders and held her close to his chest. Things were looking good for the both of them. Better than they had in a long time.

He wished this kind of thing could last forever. The beating of her heart, the laughter in her voice, the shine in her eyes. He just wished he could have bottled it all up and held it close to him for the rest of his life.

But he waited too long, and the opportunity slipped from his grasp.

______

The pair fought hard. Kakashi was better than her, everyone knew that. The enemy targeted her for that reason. It was clear as day that she was important to Kakashi, and the enemy quickly caught onto that. He was quick to bring the knife to her neck, pressing the woman’s back tightly to his chest. The blade stung her skin, already piercing the flesh from the bit of pressure he applied.

She cried out, feeling a trail of blood begin running down her neck. Her nails clawed at his arm, desperate to get him to release her from his clutches, but he persisted. One hand held onto her chin tightly, keeping her face from thrashing, and the other continued to apply more and more pressure into the blade.

For the first time in a long time, she found herself feeling unrestricted fear. She was scared. Scared for her life. She’d never been in this situation before, feeling so completely and utterly helpless like a deer caught in the headlights. Kakashi was right there, she should have known everything was going to be okay. After all, she had the village’s strongest veteran on her side.

It wasn’t the pain that caused the tears to bubble up in the corners of her eyes, no, it was Kakashi. The way his eyes darted over to the them, and she could feel his heart beginning to race, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, and the fear creeping up into his heart. He never wore his heart on his sleeve. He was so closed off, sometimes she could only get a wisp of emotion from him, especially the ones that showed such vulnerability.

Now it all seemed to come tumbling out like a landslide. She was drowning in fear, his and her own.

“Let her go,” he called out, practically pleading with the man across from him, but it was in vain.

“Like I’d listen to some filthy leaf shinobi,” the spy replied angrily. He felt so hot, burning up with so much anger she wanted to throw up. What had they done to upset him this badly? Her jaw was starting to ache from being held so tightly, and she swore she could taste blood running down her throat. This was bad. This was so terribly, miserably bad.

Kakashi stood there, his hands hovering at his sides, unknowing of what to do. She was already bleeding out all over the collar of her shirt. If he made a single move, the man could easily finish the job with one fatal swipe. The copy nin felt cornered. Hopeless. What was there left to do? He’d let the love of his life fall in the hands of some petty criminal.

Come on, think of something. Anything. Just think of something.

“What? You upset I’ve got your little girlfriend here?”

God, he was so desperate. The man taunting him didn’t help at all. He just felt himself spiralling deeper into hopelessness. He bargained, “Please, just let her go. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

It wouldn’t work though. This man was set in his ways, and there was no changing that. He came into this fight knowing exactly what he wanted to do. And he was going to finish the job.

“This is for what you shinobi have done to my people,” he sneered before she felt the knife dip further into her neck, sliding painfully across her throat. He dropped her head from his grasp, and as soon as he had, her body crumbled down to the ground. She collapsed in a bleeding heap on the dirt.

The criminal quickly ran into the forest behind them, getting lost among the trees and the bushes within seconds. None of that mattered though. Kakashi could only run over to her limp body lying there on the ground, sputtering and coughing on thick blood filling her throat and lungs. Her cheeks and lips painted red now from spitting so much up. He fell to his knees beside her body, and for the first time in a long time, he felt a tear drip down his face.

She cried, hot tears running down her cheeks into the dirt on either side of her head. She cried for her pathetic self, having been attacked and injured in this way. She cried for Kakashi, feeling the pain and sadness, the panic, radiating off his form. She took in every emotion he was feeling, wanting to savor being with him for as long as she had, to fully take him in one last time.

“Y/N, it’s gonna be okay,” he whispered, his hands running over her hair and cheek, smearing blood on her skin and his fingers. “We’ll bring you back to the village. The Hokage can fix you.” His words were so soft into the air, like if he spoke any louder he would hurt her.

They both knew that none of what he was saying was true. She was as good as dead.

She lifted her hand weakly to sit on his other hand. “I…” The woman took a labored breath.. “Love you, Kashi.”

“No, no, no. Don’t say that,” he hushed her, feeling his heart grow heavier in his chest with every second that passed, every look at her bloody neck and face, her laboring chest as she took hopeless breaths. He was falling apart in this moment, desperate for fate to change, for her to magically be better. He choked, “You can’t die, Y/N.”

“It’s okay.” Her words were slurred and hard to hear, liquid bubbling up in her throat to the point she was almost incomprehensible. “I love you,” she confessed once again. She wanted those to be her last ever words to him, the words he would remember for the rest of his life. To know someone out there loved him more than anything else.

He had to know that he was her everything. He was the best thing that ever happened to her, and she was going to miss him so terribly wherever her soul went after this. She just wished there was more time to tell him everything she felt. Yet, time was passing faster than she thought, and all those words felt impossible.

“I love you, too. You have to live for me. Just keep breathing, it's going to be okay.”

“It...hurts.”

More misery erupted his chest, and he found himself wanting to scream. Tears dripped steadily down both his cheeks now as he watched this woman die in front of him, one of the only people he truly needed in his life. “I know, baby, I know. I’m sorry I let this happen to you.”

She nodded faintly, her eyes beginning to close. He was starting to panic. Was this his last moment to say goodbye? Their time together was so short, how was this fair? He’d already lost everyone he ever cared about, and now this? He felt like the gods were laughing down at him and his misfortune.

“You were the best thing that ever happened to me. I don’t know how I’ll do this without you.”

She didn’t respond, but she was still breathing.

“Y/N, please.”

And he watched as her chest fell still and her labored breaths were silent on his ears. He found himself gathering her form up against his chest, her head cradled in the crook of his neck, just sobbing into her hair, weeping for a long lasting love gone in an instant.

He carried her body home that day himself. Something he never anticipated happening, but should have prepared for. He always thought he was going to watch as someone else carried her home to him, death long gone before he had the chance to see. He never thought it would be right in front of him. He thought he could protect her, save her from the clutches of fate. He was so wrong.

Kakashi was alone once again.

#kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake #naruto x reader #x reader #naruto #kakashi imagine #kakashi fanfic #kakashi one shot #naruto imagine #naruto oneshot #naruto fanfic #oneshot #fanfic #imagine #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi x you

227 notes · View notes

that-gt-and-vore-stuffs · 3 years

Text

Experiment 05SB

Alternatively titled “I’m sorry 2B don’t hate me please”

I hath given in to the M4dc0m brain rot at the cost of me now having written a 7k+ word fic because I’m not confident enough in my art skills to draw it at the moment. Here we go!

Oh, there’s also implied fatal in this (it’s of unnamed characters, plus this is M4dc0m, but I’ve gotta say it. I guess you could take it as reformation if you really wanted to.). Mentions of blood I guess?

As always, Vore under the cut :)

“Ey 2b? You there?” Deimos’s voice crackled to life through the plastic earpiece currently jammed into his left ear, yanking the hacker and unofficial ‘team medic’ as he was called once (much to his own confusion. Sure, he knew basic medical but by no means was he any sort of doctor) back into reality. A brief moment passed in the silence of his room, more often called ‘the lab’, of their base before everything came crashing back at once. Deimos, Sanford, and Hank were out raiding a A.A.H.W warehouse at his instruction. Meaning he was alone in their base, also known as a breaking down appartement they had taken shelter in. It had electricity and provided shelter from the harsh hell scape that had once been the state of Nevada. A dark red sunless sky overhead, vegetation and any ecosystems completely wiped out from what they’d seen, bandits and zeds equally ready to eat the nearest person if it meant living another day, the Agency hunting you down if they thought you’d possibly be working against them or with the infamous Hank J. Wimbleton, and having little to no essential resources for days at a time to top it all off like some twisted cherry on this sick cake. Home sweet fucking home.

“Doc? Helllloooo?” Shit, right. Deimos.

“Sorry, I’m here. What is it Deimos?”

“And the medic lives!” The small cheer was accompanied by laughter from the smallest member of the team. Jebus, how was he able to joke in even the most dire situations?

“Just get to the point, chucklehead.” 2b could hear Sanford add in over the static, the man’s laughter just barely making it to tired ears.

“Right right, sorry man. Anyway, if we wanted to get food on the way back would you say no?” Pardon? There was no way he was hearing that right. There were several reasons why he couldn’t be hearing that right. A. food wasn’t by any means the easiest thing to come by in this hellhole, B. restaurants weren’t really a common thing anymore so those were out of the picture, and C. there’s no way they could p- actually, scratch that last one. Robbing a corpse wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that those three had done. Not by a long shot. Still though, how was he supposed to respond to that request?

“…what?” Apparently by asking the first word on his mind.

“We saw that one hotdog vendor on the way here and we’re all starving. Can we or can we not get hotdogs on the way back?” Oh. That’s what Deimos ment. How on earth had that hotdog vendor not been killed yet?

“Is this a genuine ‘we’ or is it a ‘me’, Deimos?” That seemed like a more fair and answerable question.

“Hey I-!”

“It’s a genuine ‘we’ Doc,” Sanford’s voice chimed in. By the cursing in the background 2b could imagine that he had flipped up Deimos’s mic to temporarily mute him in the realm of their earpieces. “Pretty sure one of our stomachs gave us away to the last group of agents we had to take out. Not gonna point fingers but I’m pretty sure it was Hank- Ack! I’m just saying!”

“Thought we weren’t pointing fingers.” There was the third voice. Rough from years of fighting yet still all too recognizable as Hank. The same Hank J. Wimbleton on the wanted posters that scattered the walls of almost every nearby building, wanted dead by the Auditor and his whole agency. He must’ve smacked Sanford for his comment. Well at least he didn’t do worse, whether on purpose or accident.

“We aren’t. Now Cmon Doc, you never answered my question.” Hearing the other hacker’s voice ask for an answer again 2b sighed. Always eager, wasn’t he? How the man had seemingly endless energy on missions would forever remain a mystery to him, Jebus be damned.

“I don’t really care what you do on the way back so long as you all come back in one piece and with the stuff I sent you there for. Understood?”

“Aye aye, Captain Doc! Over and out!” And there they went. The earpiece went dead, leaving 2b on his own once again once he flicked up his own mic. Back to silence. Sweet sweet silence. It wasn’t often they got that in their shared apartment of a base. Someone was always awake, someone was always saying something. It was never really quiet unless you were lucky enough to be the only one awake. 2BDamned had seen plenty of those rare times, if only because he overworked himself and didn’t sleep. So maybe it was one of his less than desirable qualities, when living in a hellscape being ten steps ahead of the agency trying to kill you is always good. He had to keep that up, on top of keeping the others alive and well.

And then there was his little experiment. That also was taking a toll on how little he slept. Not all that long ago the trio had returned from a mission with the data he had requested and more. Specifically a duffel bag full of seemingly shrunken grunts and two only slightly bigger shrunken MAGs. Pft, how funny it was to say that. A shrunken MAG. Hell, he wouldn’t believe it if you told him with no proof. The idea seemed insane. Oh but it wasn't. Not by a long shot if the cages sitting on one of his tables said anything. Normally he’d call such a thing like keeping people in cages inhumane, not that there were many humane things in this hellhole to begin with. He’d expect keeping them in cages that probably used to be for pets to be a move pulled by the Agency, not himself, however he had to make do with what they could find and had access to. Also known as: not much at all. He wanted to study them after all. Letting them free was just not an option.

Now that probably sounds bad, studying living beings like himself, but one couldn’t blame 2b when you considered his situation (at least he hopes one couldn’t). Somehow the Agency found a way to shrink living beings. That’s power that could be used against him and the others to make everything turn for the worst, something which he wanted to avoid at all costs. However, if one of his teammates or himself were to be shrunken on a mission it would be possibly lifesaving to know how to reverse the effects. Plus, having the power to shrink enemies on their side could certainly prove useful. All that being said, he needed these few alive in order to try and figure out what caused them to be how they were. Hence the repurposed, beat up pet cages. Two of them to be exact. One held the grunts and the other for the two MAG agents. None of them had killed each other yet, so that was nice. A few simple experiments and a dissection of a grunt that had been dead upon arrival to him proved that they still functioned as they would if they were their normal size. Just on a smaller scale. He had sent Hank, Deimos, and Sanford out for supplies today, yes, though if they found any information regarding the shrinking of their little ‘guests’ then they were to bring it to him. With no information on that though, he had to continue his other work. Tired eyes met the screen through red goggles. Moments later his head found itself cushioned in the crook of one of his arms.

“What the hell.” 2b grumbled, a fresh headache slowly starting to pound against the inside of his skull. What the hell was up with him? He should be fine. This was only his second day without proper ‘longer-then-15-minutes’ sleep. He’d gone longer before, he should be able to function. Why was the screen giving him such a headache now of all times? He needed to get stuff done. He needed to finish up this…this……what was he working on again? Hold on, no, he should remember. This shouldn’t be slipping his mind like it is. Maybe if he just thought back a few minutes. It would come back to him, right?

“Ok right before Deimos called, what was I doing?” 2b thought out loud to himself, trying his hardest to recall what had happened prior to the call from his allies. ”I was sitting here…then Deimos called in. Wait, no. Go back. From the top. Since…however long ago I’ve been sitting here, working on…what was I working on before Deimos asked about getting food? I sent them on the raid, didn’t eat, got to work and- no. That’s not it. Why can’t I just-“

Gggnnnnnnrrrr…

Oh well fuck him. That’s why he couldn’t focus. 2b groaned, not bothering to hide the noise as of now. He was alone, no one would hear him or tease him. Unless you would count the shrunken men in the cages, however it wasn’t likely they’d say anything. When you’re the size of a rat, spare the MAGs who were more rabbit sized, to your captor pissing them off seemed like the worst thing one could do. Clearly the hacker wasn’t at all in the mood to deal with teasing, so their mouths remained shut. That left 2b alone to deal with his complaining stomach, a feat which proved easier said than done when one was going off a day and a half without properly sleeping. He couldn’t even remember the last time he ate something. It was all just fuzzing together at this point.

Pushing himself off his desk 2b flopped back into the worn chair he’d been sitting in for God knows how long. Relaxing into the backrest was certainly more comfortable than being hunched over a laptop screen typing away like he had been for the past day or two. A hand fell to rest over his stomach while the other removed his goggles. Those were not helping the blooming headache. A low growl from his stomach drew a small hiss through his teeth, the sound being accompanied by a familiar empty cramping.

“Oh you can shut up.” He grumbled at the organ half heartedly, “It’s not like I can eat anything right now. There’s a reason I sent Hank and the others out.” His stomach growled back, the empty sound ringing in the hacker’s ears. He needed to eat, that was undeniable. The problem was getting something to eat. He had few options, none of which he particularly liked. Option 1. going out to look for something even slightly edible on his own, option 2. wait and hope the others found and brought back food, or option 3. contact the others through his headset and ask them to get him something on the way back. The first option was clearly undesirable on its own and the other two weren’t much better. Sure, asking them to grab something for him would probably be easiest and most logical, however he was almost certain that they didn’t want to hear that out of the blue in the middle of a fight. That and he didn’t want to deal with any teasing that might come along with asking. He wasn’t about to take that chance when he had things to do. He couldn’t remember those things at the moment, sure, but they were still things he had to do! So asking was not an available option at the moment. That left waiting and hoping for the best.

Rrrrrrrnnngggggg….

“I know. I don’t like the idea either.” 2b sighed as he spun around in his chair, gently patting his stomach. He needed to get out of his chair, even if it was just a walk around his room. He needed something after a day and a half straight of sitting there hunched over staring at a screen. Maybe it’d help with the headache if he was lucky. Probably wouldn’t but hey a man could dream. With a small grunt of effort the hacker found himself on his feet, his balance wobbling and legs feeling like brittle pasta beneath him. Ah, that's what I wanted to do earlier. Go figure taking breaks gets ignored by my brain. “However, I do believe it’ll end with the best result. I’m sure they’ll be home soon anyway.”

They wouldn’t. That was a lie, to himself and to his stomach alike. He likely had a few more hours alone, maybe two at least. The A.A.H.W warehouse he’d sent them to was big and if you account for fighting delays and them stopping on the way back then the chance of them being back in the next two hours would be some sort of miracle. By the way his stomach reacted every time he brushed over the thought that the trio was getting food on the way back then he wasn’t going to be looking so hot by the time they arrived back. Oh he was going to get the short end of the stick no matter what he did, wasn’t he? Talk about luck. 2b sighed, running a hand up and through his hair as he walked along one of the walls of his small room. His stomach clearly wasn’t shutting up any time soon so the next best course of action would be to ignore it. Maybe that would help him wait it out. What could he focus on? There was work, he could clean up a little bit maybe, or he could focus on the rattling coming from the cages and-

Hold on.

That most certainly wasn’t right. 2b cocked an eyebrow, crossing the room to where the three cages were placed. Quite the interesting scene was playing out before him. From what he could see a few of the shrunken grunts were teaming up to try and break out of the cages. This wasn’t their first little escape attempt, no, but it interested him enough as he stood there watching and attempting to grab his tablet at the same time. Eventually he had succeeded, opening up a new document to scribble down a few notes.

Title: Log 073SB

Time: 6:34 pm, xx/xx/xx

Author: 2BDamned

Note: Grunts working together to attempt escape. MAG agent seems to be attempting to cause a distraction by rattling the wall of the cage. Or perhaps they just want out. Very annoying either way. None seem bothered by my presence.

Satisfied with his little note, 2b closed the tablet and set it down on the counter next to one of the cages. Whether it was him being too rough with setting the tablet down or the low grumble from his stomach that startled the cage of grunts was up for debate, but currently he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Right now he needed to have a chat with the little troublemakers. Without hesitation the unofficial medic reached forward, opening the little hinged door located on top of the cage with ease compared to what the grunts inside were attempting before. He didn’t think twice before he reached in and grabbed the two topmost grunts from the pile of attempted escapees before retracting his hand, repeating the process with his other hand, and finally closing the cage. Hands now full, each holding two fighting bodies, the hacker sighed.

“Escape huh? How many times have you already tried that and it didn’t work?” 2b asked, a less than impressed tone lacing his voice. Sure, he needed a distraction from his stomach but he didn’t want to have to deal with escape attempts left and right for the next however long. “What made you think it’d go any different this time?”

There was a moment of silence before a soft voice spoke up, one that clearly hadn’t been used recently. One of the grunts in his left hand. “W-we figured i-if we actually tried and w-worked together then maybe we’d b-be able to manage a successful…e-escape…”

“Really now? Interesting.” 2b mumbled, looking over the grunt in his hand. They were all so small. You’d think he’d have gotten used to their size by now but every time he held one it seemed to slap him in the face. Offing them if they got too rowdy wouldn’t be hard at all. Wouldn’t need to use anything to begin with. How crazy it was. “Though I’m not sure I can let this slide as I have with previous instances.”

“W-what?” His response seemed to temporarily stun the four in his hands, most likely because of how it was different from his previous comments on their attempted escapes. A shiver passed over them like a wave while the hacker only nodded.

“Your previous attempts at escape. While I can understand why one would try I’ve made it quite clear that successful escapes won’t be happening nor tolerated, correct? I need to prove my point here because you all clearly don’t understand words.” He shifted on his feet slightly, a new question wracking his brain. What could he do to show he wasn’t going to deal with constant escape attempts? It had to be something that stuck, seeing as they clearly didn’t understand his earlier comments about escape not being tolerated. Only a few moments of silence passed before his lips were moving again. “You four are going somewhere else. A stronger holding space. If any of the others try anything they’ll join you. Simple, yet effective.” Or it would be if he knew exactly where he planned to stick these four. What did he have that could serve as a stronger cell for them? The cages were already pretty secure in terms of what he could work with. He just needed something stronger, close to him, hard to escape, and threatening that held a sense of danger with it. But what could that be? His eyes darted around the makeshift lab, trying to find something.

Grrrrroowwwllll…

2b’s eyes slowly scanned down from his shaking captives to his stomach. For a moment he just stared, eyes lacking any readable emotion. Well now that was certainly an option. It fit his criteria. Almost too well. Strong, hard to escape, close to him, and it held a sense of danger. Under his mask his torn and scared lips quirked up into a little smirk. “Mmhm. That’ll do quite nicely, in fact~”

The final moments of peace were shattered as the meaning of his words collided with his captives like a well aimed punch to the gut. Hearts sunk to their feet like rocks in water, despair rearing it’s head in their struggles. Those fortunate enough to remain in the cages simply watched with a muted horror as the four bodies were tossed onto the table and held down with little to no effort. The hacker wasted no time removing the mask and bandages that usually covered his mouth, tossing the fabrics haphazardly beside his discarded tablet. Despite the word fresh being the last thing he’d use to describe the Nevada air, 2b knew he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t nice to just breathe the air in alone and not through the layers of fabric like he often did. With the temporary roadblock now gone his eyes drifted downward to the bodies pinned beneath his hand.

“Well, I believe that eliminates any preventable issues we could encounter here.” He hummed softly, plucking the grunt who was covered by his hand the least up into the air. It certainly was odd to watch the little body squirm and fight against him, all attacks on the two fingers holding it proving futile. Their only hope seemed to be 2b letting them go, something which proved less and less likely the longer they studied the look in the hackers eyes. It wasn’t a look one ever wanted to find themself on the receiving end of. The sight of sharp teeth, glimmering with saliva through grinning lips, certainly did not help to lower the grunt’s heart rate at all. 2b simply clicked his tongue. “Meaning stalling time is up. Stay still, won’t you?”

The grunt did not, in fact, stay still. It was impossible to do so as far as they knew when you had a spit soaked tongue dragging up every inch of your front, sharp daggers of teeth only millimeters from their face. A deafening silence washed over the others, only being broken by a small pleased hum from their normal sized captor.

“Not bad…” the man mumbled, dragging his tongue up the squirming grunt yet again. A small voice in the back of his mind, his voice of reason, yelled out the obvious loud and clear to him plenty of times: this was wrong. It wasn’t right to be doing what he was about to do. This was stooping down to the bandits level, something he never intended to do unless absolutely necessary. He shouldn’t be enjoying the taste of another living being like this. And yet…here he was. Ignoring any logic and reason in his mind to proceed with this. Thank goodness he was alone. 2b didn’t even want to think about what the others might say if they were to see him how he was now. Shaking his head softly he shoved away the thought, opening his jaw as far as the joint and scarred tissue that made up his cheeks would allow. He wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned with how easily the small body slipped into his mouth.

Despite their best efforts to squirm free of their new confinement, the slippery surroundings of the unofficial doctor’s maw proved to have horrible traction. Saliva dropped onto the unfortunate grunt’s head from above while they desperately tried to crawl out of the dark cavern. Feet scrambled on the soaked surface of their predator’s tongue as the muscle moved and flipped them around as if they were some piece of candy, all while their hands desperately tried to keep as little of them between the axe like teeth. One bite and they were done for, a terrifying thought. Through it all only three sounds were ever heard from those lucky enough to not be in the current grunt’s position. The sickening sounds of soaked struggle, terrified yelps from the grunt stuck within 2b’s jaws, and the occasional hum from the man himself. The torture, as those watching from the cage would describe it, seemed to continue for hours and hours on end.

Glk

Glp~

Until it all stopped with two simple swallows and a collective gasp of horror from those watching. The relaxed posture of the man they all watched failed to help their situation.

“H….huhh…that was..” the uncertified medic breathed, breaking the silence. His free hand lazily felt down his throat, tracing where he could feel the squirming body slip further down by the second. It didn’t take a genius to decipher that the less angry sounding gurgle from the man’s stomach signaled the end of the unfortunate grunt’s descent. With eyes widened just beyond his natural look 2b gently pressed his stomach. How interesting it was, as morbid as it might sound, to feel something squirming around inside the organ. Before he could even stop to consider a better way to word his thoughts, he finished his sentence. Just not in the way the grunts wanted to hear. “…incredibly easy.”

The last thing any of the remaining grunts wanted to see was those eyes scan up slowly before locking on them as if they were some sort of dessert. The clearly out of place smile on the man’s face didn’t help the feeling of impending doom either. If anything it only made it worse as a rough hand plucked another grunt from the selected three that had remained under his hand. Down, beneath his newfound curiosity and odd urge to continue what he was doing, 2b knew he should have been more concerned about how easy this was coming to him. No sane person would take so calmly to swallowing living beings, especially not of his own kind. Yet here he was, smirking as he licked over his scarred lips with cold eyes locked onto the small shaking body like a cat would after spotting a mouse. Looking at their sizes in comparison to one another? The simile was scarily accurate. Through his whole little mental debate the hacker found it all too easy to slip the small body into his mouth, licking it over to draw out as much of that strangely addicting taste before slowly beginning to nudge it back. Just bit by bit until it was far enough.

Glrk

Grk~

“Two down…haahhh…two to go…” the hacker sighed as he traced the lump down his throat. There was a waiting period once more but it didn’t last long before the shiver inducing gurgle signified where the poor soul had ended up. How the man hadn’t gotten sick yet was beyond the understanding of those who witnessed the event and even the man himself. Surely he should feel at least a little nauseous with two rat sized bodies squirming within his stomach. Nausea and fullness were the two sensations he had expected by now and yet neither had shown their face yet. Deep within his mind, from an area he didn’t even know existed until it spoke, a voice urged him to test his limits. 2b had shaken that idea off nearly immediately. As….enticing as that idea was, he still needed a few of the shrunken grunts alive and well to continue his attempts to recreate and reverse however the Agency had shrunken them before. Four however….well that wasn’t the biggest loss in the world if something happened to go wrong. Leaning a little more heavily over the table he grabbed one of the last two grunts, shoving the struggling body into his mouth head first. Quite the sight it was to watch flailing legs be slurped into someone’s mouth like nothing more than wet noodles. Interesting and horrifying.

Glp

Glrk~

Though compared to seeing someone who had been beside you ten minutes ago disappear down your captor’s throat as nothing more than a barely visible lump would top it in the scarring scale. Nothing could compare to that sight. Good god was it terrifying. The reality that escape was impossible was all but cemented into the remaining grunts' brains now, as that had been what had gotten their companions into this situation in the first place. This was happening because their capturer wanted to prove his point that attempted escape would not be tolerated. At this point they were convinced they’d have to have a death wish to attempt escape now. Especially when their conditions weren’t horrible compared to what they could be in, something which hadn’t crossed their minds till now. Now don’t take their words wrong, by no means did they want to stay here. Especially not now. However, if it meant living another day and not ending up as lunch? Staying definitely was the preferable option.

“One to go. Damn.” The hacker's voice snapped all attention back to him. His position had changed, now leaning back on the table as he looked over the struggling form in his hands. The words seemed to flow from his mouth without too much thought needed behind them. They just felt…right. It was a feeling he never expected to experience in such a context that he was now, much less to have it almost piloting him as it felt now, but he was nearly willing to say he welcomed it. He wasn't well acquainted with the idea of eating living beings after all, so the subconscious help to ease the process along wasn’t something he’d push away. Not unless it were to cause an issue that is. However, nothing of the sort had happened yet, meaning he was going to keep letting his actions flow naturally.

Just as he had with the three before this one, 2b wasted little time starting towards his goal. Raising the grunt just above his head the man dangled the flailing body over his open mouth, a sight that he could assume would terrify anyone in the grunt’s position. All went smoothly as he lowered the small body in. That is until the grunt, having seen an opportunity and taken it, grabbed and yanked down his mic. While he tried to react as quickly as possible, he could only pray the microphone had not managed to pick up the gag he’d made after panic and shock had caused him to jolt forward and send the grunt to the back of his throat. He flipped up the mic as fast as he could, trying to determine the best course of action one could take with a squirming body halfway down their throat and a possibility of having just been ratted out to the others by their lunch. He was screwed were they to find out, what with how at least two of the three always seemed to be looking for teasing ammunition. That and this….well this wasn’t exactly normal, you know.

“Doc? Is everything ok over there?” Fuck. That wasn’t good. Ignoring the sinking feeling of dread in his chest the best he could, 2b took a deep breath and forced the fourth grunt down with a swallow that took a little more effort then he felt it should’ve. Flipping down the mic, he answered.

“Damnit- yes. I'm fine, Sanford. Don’t worry.” The sentence had to be his least convincing lie yet. Between his heavy breathing and dryness in his throat he could tell his voice wasn’t helping him in any way. Now he didn’t take his teammates for idiots, despite how it sure seemed like they were sometimes, but in the moment he found himself wishing they were.

“You sure? You don’t sound all that fine. Did something happen back at base?” The worry beginning to lace the man’s voice through the static filled earpiece only served to worsen the feeling of dread in 2b’s chest. He needed to get Sanford, and the others who were no doubt listening, off the idea something had happened. He needed to deal with the whole I-just-swallowed-four-people-alive thing before they came back, so them returning early was not in the plan.

“No, nothing happened.” He shot back, only realizing the speed in his voice wasn’t too reassuring after he said it. Ok, what was a believable excuse for why he sounded like he did? “I just…spilt coffee on my legs after burning my mouth. Must’ve knocked the mic down in the process.” With a hand to his chest the hacker forced a soft swallow, trying to at least get rid of the uncomfortable dryness that had settled in the back of his throat. Please say they believed that.

“Pft, really? Damn, wish I could’ve seen that. Think you looked like one of those old cartoons, Doc?” Phew, crisis averted.

“Real funny, Deimos. Get back to your mission.” 2b shook his head at the comment. At least they seemed to believe him. It was worth it, even if the mental image of those over exaggerated cartoon characters was now going to show up whenever he even slightly burnt his mouth on coffee. Oh well, some sacrifices must be made.

“Alright alright. We’re going.” The man on the other end laughed. Those idiots. Damn his heart caring for them, now he was attached. “See you when we get back. Over and out, Doc!” And there they went.

Fighting off his own soft laughter, 2b flipped up his mic. A soft sigh escaped him before he could even think to stop it. That could’ve been horrible. While one hand softly rubbed at his neck, sore from what he had to guess was the miniature disaster that just took place, the other gently laid itself over his stomach. The four inside never seemed to stop moving, constantly squirming and slipping about. There were a handful of reasons he could assume was the cause, though the most likely was that being shoved into a soaking wet moving sack with three of your colleagues provided little traction or ability to get comfortable. That and panic. Panic was probably a rather big factor in how they were feeling. 2b, on the other hand, had to be feeling the exact opposite of how they were. The warm weight of his four ‘victims’ was a welcome sensation within the previously empty pit of his stomach. As twisted as he knew it sounded, he would’ve been confident saying that what he was feeling was honestly satisfactory. Why having living beings stretch and actually round out his stomach in a barely noticeable way was causing this feeling was a mystery to him, but at the moment he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Not when it felt this nice.

“I hope I’ve made my point clear.” The unofficial medic hummed, looking over to the grunt filled cage. They had backed away from him by now, huddled in the back most corner of their confines. The sight drew a genuine laugh from the man they all seemed to fear ten times more than before. Well that was proof if he’d ever seen it. Looks like their escape wasn’t something he had to worry about any more. So maybe he sacrificed a little of his ‘I’m not going to hurt you’ act for this. It was worth it in his eyes. And besides, he was probably the most gentle with them out of his whole little gang. If they wanted to be left with one of the others then go ahead. Although being left with the mercenary who you were created to kill didn’t sound like the most fun time to him. Smirking, he collected his goggles, mask, and tablet from the table. “It seems I have. Glad we could have this little -hic!- chat. Heh.”

He gave the cage a pat, the rattling of the metal only serving to scare the grunts further back in the ball of bodies they’d curled into, before turning to walk back to his desk. He needed to sit down. Standing apparently became a lot harder when you had four people fighting against your insides. Thinking back, he didn’t know what he would have expected. Did he stumble a little bit trying to get back to his desk? Yes, he did. It was like he forgot how to walk in all honesty. Another reason he was glad he was alone in their base. Like most things though it proved worth it when he finally collapsed into the worn chair he used for work. Without thinking twice he opened his tablet and started a new log.

—————————

“Doc! We’re back!” The call rang out through the appartement, followed by three sets of footsteps marching their way in and the door slamming shut perhaps a little stronger than needed. As the hinges of the door stopped rattling the three expected to hear a displeased groan, followed by the ruffled form of 2b appearing in the hallway to scold them for being so aggressive or something like tracking blood into the base. Honestly, why he still bothered was a mystery to them, at least Sanford and Deimos for they had zero clue what went on in Hank’s head, for the most part. They were mercenaries, fighters, people looking to not end up with their brains splattered on the wall or something worse. They were going to be bloody upon returning, even if that blood wasn’t their own. It wasn’t like their floors were carpet or anything either. In the end though they never bothered to fight the scoldings. No use making the unofficial medic mad, especially if they needed help. The lack of disgruntled medic in the hallway or at least yelling when silence returned to the room was worrying. After a minute or two with nothing spoken and no ruffled hacker to be seen, Deimos tried again to call him.

“2b?” He called out, peering down the hallway which led to their rooms. There wasn’t any blood on the walls, a good sign to start, and no bullet holes that weren’t there before. Unless the Agency suddenly learned how to do stealth missions, something he and he knew the other two were hoping wasn’t the case, he had hopes. Again, no response from the man. Gun still in his hand he took one glance back to the others, a silent ‘follow me’, before continuing down the hallway. Although Deimos had made it to the closed door first he’d been pushed past by the red goggle wearing giant as he reached for the doorknob. Hank had been the one to open the door to 2b’s room. He’d also been the first of the trio to feel the tension in his shoulders drop. It wasn’t long after he had relaxed that he was shoved into the room by two bodies trying to get in and see any damage that could’ve been done while they were gone. The sight of 2BDamned softly snoring away in his chair, nothing in the room seeming out of place, was most certainly a welcome one.

“Ah. So that’s why he isn’t barking us up a tree for your entrance, Dei.” Sanford hummed with a laugh, careful to watch his volume. If there was one thing he didn’t want to deal with after their mission it was a cranky Doc who got woken up by them. It wasn’t a secret he didn’t necessarily sleep after all and there was no way he could survive off coffee like he seemed to silently claim he could sometimes. They all had times when their sleep schedules were fucked.

“Oh shut up, ‘Ford.” Deimos shot back with a playful punch to the man’s bicep. “It’s not like I’m the one who slammed the door. That’s what he would’ve been on our asses about.”

“You slammed it open then yelled loud enough for all of Nevada to hear you. Don’t act like you’re innocent!”

As the two’s words morphed into friendly bickering Hank took it upon himself to deliver the bit of what they got that couldn’t stay in the duffle bag slung over his shoulder at the moment. Buried in the pocket of his jacket was a small object. Something he hadn’t expected to find, but had snagged nonetheless when it had been pointed out by Deimos. For a second as he walked over to the man a rough hand dug around fabric, fingers gripping plastic as he arrived at his destination. Without thinking he tossed the USB onto the hacker’s desk, eyes wandering over small things like the empty coffee mug or discarded goggles. Behind red-tinted goggles they landed on the man’s tablet, the screen now illuminated thanks to what he could assume had been the small drive hitting the desk. Prying wasn’t something he often did when it came to his teammates, respecting their privacy as they often did his, but after a certain word caught his eye he couldn’t help but read the log that had popped up.

Title: Experiment 05SB

Time: 7:42 pm, xx/xx/xx

Author: 2BDamned

Note: I…cannot believe I’m about to write this. This is update one of Experiment 05SB, an experiment started without much if any bit of a proper plan behind it. Phase I, I suppose you could call it, was a success. The shrunken grunts are, in fact, small enough to swallow whole and…alive. MAGs have not yet been confirmed to be the same way, though I’m sure that answer will show itself one day. I am unsure why I am able to keep four of them down without feeling nauseated, but I can. I will update at a later time when more information has presented itself.

The log ended there, eyes falling away from the screen as Hank’s mind worked to process the information it had just been given. According to what had been written before the man had fallen victim to sleep, it was not only possible to swallow the shrunken beings sitting in one of the cages behind him, but the unofficial doctor had done it himself. Four times to be exact. Curiosity grabbed control of his eyes, slowly panning them up to the cage of grunts who looked noticeably more terrified than they usually did. Had they seen the whole thing go down? His mind continued to wander, finding new questions like how on earth the hacker had managed to keep living and no doubt moving beings down like the log said he did. That is unless he’d spit them up before falling asleep. However that seemed highly unlikely-

“Snooping around Doc’s stuff, are we Hank~?” When Deimos had appeared behind him was beyond the mercenary, though the shock of hearing his voice out of the blue was enough to startle him into quickly powering off 2b’s tablet and whipping around to face the two that now stood across with him with far too smug looks on their faces for his liking.

“Woah there, big guy! We didn’t mean any trouble.” Sanford cooed, the fucking Chad cooed, holding his hands up as if he was under some sort of arrest. “Just wanted to know what you were reading over here is all~.”

“Yeah, exactly. I never expected to find you clicking through Doc’s diary.” Deimos added on nearly flawlessly. Sometimes he really hated how well they worked together. Namely when it was against him. “So, was it a love confession~?”

Hank sighed, glaring at the two through his goggles. He sure fucking hoped they could see the look on his face, despite most of it being covered by bandages and his mask. Because he was not amused and he wanted them to know it.

“No, not a love confession, you morons.” He groaned, shaking his head. Telling them straight off what it said would probably be horrible. At the moment he was still having a few difficulties understanding parts of what he read. Lying just seemed like the best choice overall. It wasn’t like he’d be the only one doing so, after all. It sure seemed like 2b did to them over the mic. Speaking of the man, Hank turned around to take a good look at him. At first glance he seemed like he normally did when he passed out in his chair from overworking himself like this. It was only when Hank took an extra second to look and let the information in his brain guide him did he see the slightly out of place softness around the sleeping hacker’s stomach. Unable to help himself Hank felt his ruined remaining lip quirk up into a small smirk under his mask as he turned around to shove the Dumbass Duo out of the room so 2b could sleep.

“Bunch’a nonsense, is all. Now move. I don’t wanna deal with him if you idiots wake him up and we still have shit to put away.”

#soft vore #mawedness combat #hahaha finally!#I’ve been waiting to use that tag #implied fatal #oopsie #it’s no named character so I guess it’s not bad #I mean this is in the M4dc0m universe so don’t expect my works with these fuckers to be as sunshine as some of my N3ws¡3s ones were #2b I do hope you won’t hate me for this if you can see it

80 notes · View notes

lunabonita · 3 years

Text

My Webtoon Recommendations

These are webtoons that are all 10/10 for me. Of course it doesn’t have to be a 10/10 for you, so just a reminder, do not attack me for liking a webtoon that you do not. These are my opinions and we are not going to have the exact same taste. Please be respectful.

Your Throne

Genre: Fantasy

Chapters: 75

Status: Ongoing

“Tensions are brewing under the seemingly calm surface of the Vasilios Empire, a kingdom ruled by the Imperial Family and the Temple. Lady Medea Solon has lost her place next to Crown Prince Eros, but resolves to win back whats rightfully hers. Will she reclaim her throne?”

You know whats amazing about this webtoon? The summary leads you to think that what shes winning back is the prince. Wrong. Shes trying to win back the throne. I love how this webtoon doesn’t try to make it a girl focusing her goals on a man, but on power. Medea is such a strong and well written character that you can’t help but love her.

The second protagonist Pschye, who of which is the person who took Medeas place as Crown Princess, is the complete opposite of Medea. At the beginning you hate her, but as the webtoon goes on and Medea and her get a better understanding of eachother due to them switching bodies as a wish from God, you begin to root for them as they team up to take over the throne from the Crown Prince.

The art is so beautiful and I constantly found myself at awe from the amount of detail put into it.

The Makeup Remover

Genre: Romace

Chapters: 78

Status: Ongoing

“After years of being told to focus on studying, Yeseul feels lost when she starts college and is suddenly expected to pay attention to makeup. When a chance encounter with brilliant makeup artist Yuseong leads to her taking part in a televised makeup competition, Yeseul begins to question the role that makeup and appearance play in society.”

This was created by one of my favorite webtoon creators Lee Yone. Their art is just so amazing and their stories always include such good topics.

For instance, The Makeup Remover’s theme is loving yourself for who you are. It shows how people treat you based on your looks and as someone whos struggled with that kind of thing for a while, this webtoon really touched me. The main character Yeseul is such a relatable character, even when trying to reject beauty standards, she still came subject to the pressures of living up to the people around her. She struggles with trying to love her own appearance and I really like that this webtoon didn’t try to be like, ‘fuck the beauty standard im better than that screw pretty people!!!’ it actually showed realistically how people struggle with self-image. I also love the main love interest because oh my god, we need more men like him please. He doesn’t care about Yeseul’s appearance and genuinely loves her for her personality.

Also, art is amazing. The author is so talented and you should support them by reading and liking the chapters.

Surviving Romance

Genre: Horror

Chapters: 14

Status: Ongoing

“When Chaerin Eun becomes the protagonist of the romance novel she is reading, she expects a fairytale ending with the novel’s love interest, Jeha. But when a bizarre twist makes her realize the story is not playing out as it does in the book, she’ll need the help of an unlikely character from her class to defy the new storyline and find her happy ending - if only she can figure out who this ‘Unknown Extra’ is first!”

Hands down one of my favorite webtoons by a long shot. You ever see a webtoon and think, ‘oh yeah, thats going to be a good webtoon’? Thats how this webtoon was for me. It was so good that I spent hours searching for other chapters that hadn’t been uploaded to webtoon yet on other manhua websites. I discovered it because it was also by the author of ‘The Makeup Remover’.

If there is one thing you need to know about me, its that I am a huge horror fan. So when I saw that my favorite author on webtoon had a horror themed webtoon out? You bet your behind that I binged it. Let me tell you, best choice ever.

Think of it as if ‘Ino’s Law’ and ‘Quarantine’ were combined with amazing art and a badass MC.

The Remarried Empress

I love how it is set up to the point where she cannot ‘quit’ until she completes the novel. Creating scenarios where she must survive while meeting the standards in the book. It is such an amazingly written webtoon and I cannot wait for more chapters to be released.

Genre: Fantasy

Chapters: 82

Status: Ongoing

“Navier Ellie Trovi was an empress perfect in every way - intelligent, courageous, and socially adept. She was kind to her subjects and devoted to her husband. Navier was perfectly content to live the rest of her days as the wise empress of the Eastern Empire. That is, until her husband brought hone a mistress and demanded a divorce. ‘I accept this divorce… And i request an approval of my remarriage.’ In a shoking twist Navier remaarries another emperor and retains her title and childhood dream as empress. But just how did everything unfold? “

Am I in love with Navier? Yes.

I absolutely adore how this story was set up. The first chapter begins with the big divorce scene, followed by Navier saying that she was going to be remarrying someone else since he wants to divorce her. This sets up a picture that gets completely shattered as you read the chapters. How everything falls into place with the reason behind the divorce and the remarriage is just so well written. The art is so good and and everything is just so insanely well done.

I absolutely love Naviers character, from her regalness and devoted loyalty to her role as empress, all the way to her petty moments and times of sadness. She is truly a character that you want the best for, and I cannot image anyone not liking her. Also the story is just so capable of making you feel emotions. I’ve laughed, cried, and got angry during the course of reading this webtoon. I love how betrayed I felt when the emperor brought home his mistress. It felt like I was in Navier’s shoes!

This is such a well done webtoon and I'm so excited for Navier to get all of the good things she deserves in her new Kingdom and with her new husband.

Witch Creek Road

Genre: Horror

Chapters: 74

Status: Ongoing

“A survival horror about love, acceptance, death, and revenge. And sexy flesh-eating demons. Yeah, it has those, too.”

This series seriously mind fucked me. The way that this story is set up, you don’t see the full picture until the later chapters. Season two literally blew my mind. It is also very gorey so keep that in mind if you don’t like that kind of stuff, but for me that makes it all the better. It is just so wild and crass that you can feel your heart pumping in anticipation.

They even have their own website that goes further into the lore because it’s just so wild. Also the art style is just so amazing, because it complements the story and horror theme so much. You hate most of the characters because they suck, and it is so satisfying when they are killed. Also it has it’s sad moments but I think it is a nice break from the horror so it isn’t so overwhelmingly scary.

I binged this series and I recommend reading only a few chapters a day so you don’t overload your brain.

Other then that, an amazing webtoon. Seriously, go read it, support the author, so much work goes into the story and art that it’s insane.

Dating With A Tail

Genre: Romance

Chapters: 36

Status: Ongoing

“On the dawn of her 29th birthday, unlucky-in-love Yunha discovers a shocking family secret: she’s started growing a fox tail, the mark of an ancestral curse. She must find her fated love before her 30th birthday or she is destined to become a fox forever! Even with her new-found enchanting power to attract men using her scent, will one year be enough to break the curse before it’s too late?”

Oh my gosh this is just such a good webtoon. It has amazing art, story telling, and characters. The true love interest was there the whole time, the villain isn’t who you’d expect it to be, and the spirit who cursed her is just! Im not going to spoil it but go read this webtoon!! It is so good and deserves more love.

Also Yunha is just so relatable?? Like she put off finding the woodcutter (her fated love) for 29 years and waited last minute to find him. Homegirl is me trying to do a project for school. Also to get rid of the scent that makes men attracted to her, she just starts eating a ton of garlic and that is just so funny to me.

Also I would go to church for the priest anytime if you know what i mean ;)

Omniscient Reader

Genre: Action

Chapters: 53

Status: Ongoing

“Dokja was an average office worker whose sole interest was reading his favorite web novel ‘Three Ways to Survive the Apocalypse.’ But when the novel suddenly becomes reality, he is the only person who knows how the world will end. Armed with this realization, Dokja uses his understanding to change the course of the story, and the world, as he knows it.”

I cannot get over how high quality this story is. The world building is phenomenal, the art is fantastic, and the characters are very fleshed out. This deserved all the hype it has gotten so far and more.

I love the ‘mc thrown into a different reality’ trope so much. Just like with surviving romance, Dokja’s world became the story he was reading. Also a very cool aspect of the story is the level up and the fact that its like a game. Earth has turned into this show for god like creatures to watch and it follows Dokja trying to survive. I also really like that TWSA has a protagonist, but Omniscient Reader’s protagonist is not the protagonist that was in TWSA. There is just so much lore and I’ll say it again, the world building is just phenomenal.

The Ddokkaebi’s and Dokja’s interactions are also just some of my favorite moments from the story so far. And oh my goodness I would die for Lee Gilyoung. Thats it, thats the tweet. That little boy could probably kill me with his giant praying mantis and I would let him if it would make him happy.

Not So Shoujo Love Story

Genre: Comedy

Chapters: 45

Status: Ongoing

“Romance super-fan Rei Chan is ready for her first boyfriend and she knows just who it’ll be: the most handsome boy in school, Hansum Ochinchin. But her plans for the perfect story are derailed when the most popular girl in class declares herself a rival… for Rei’s heart?! This is the year her not so shoujo love story begins!”

This is just such a cute webtoon. The style is very appealing and while the humor can be childish and weird sometimes, it still has made me laugh a lot. I know the humors not for everyone but just keep in mind that it does get better as the story progresses and gets more serious.

Also its a gl! I’m really unable to find good gls these days that don’t fetishize wlw relationships. Rei being painted as a mean trouble maker whos just misunderstood and Hana being the ‘perfect girl’ who only wants Rei’s attention is such a cute dynamic. They balance each other out and better each other. Also stan Rei for constantly sticking up for Hana even if she doesn’t necessarily like her in the beginning, she has very good morals and sticks to them.

Also the defying stereotypes in this webtoon? Just god-tier. Really makes you think twice when you judge someone just on first impressions alone.

Odd Girl Out

Genre: Drama

Chapters: 264

Status: Ongoing

“After a successful winter break makeover, Nari is finally ready for her high school debut. But somehow, she ends up friends with the three prettiest girls in school! Follow Nari as she tries to navigate her brand new high school life surrounded by beauties.”

This story has made me cry multiple times. A lot, even. It is just such a beautiful tale of friendship and finding support in people who are unlike those around theme. It also tells a great story about how anybody can be the ‘odd girl out’. Be it the fat girl, the beautiful girl, the rich girl, or the laid back girl.

It goes so deep into its characters that you even feel bad for the minor antagonists. It really makes you feel for the characters and the reasons behind their actions. Also I know its long, believe me I binged all 260 chapters in the span of three days, but oh my god it is worth it. Also I know the art is kind of off-putting, in fact that’s kind of why I put off reading the story, but I’ve honestly grown to love it and the writing is so good that the art could be literal stick figures and it wouldn’t matter.

The story is amazing and also I just love Nari. She’s just the best.

Gremoryland

Genre: Horror

Chapters: 67

Status: Completed

“Six old school friends are invited to be the first visitors of GremoryLand, a new horror theme park that promises an experience as unique as it is spooky. But once this experience starts there is no turning back, and they find themselves tested beyond what they imagines, facing their most desperate fears in order to survive.”

This is definitely one of those stories were you kind of need to turn of your brain and choose to ignore ‘plot holes’ while reading the early chapters because this story definitely gets crazy if you don’t know the ending. Believe me if you stick with it it will all make sense and the satisfaction you get from finding the ending is just so worth it.

The story is so good, and who Gremory is you would literally never suspect. When it was revealed who Gremory was and how he was able to create Gremoryland is so fucking mind boggling that you would never guess. I had to do a double take. It wasn’t like one of those random characters with a vendetta type of twists, but like one you can pick out from clues throughout the story.

Its so good and twisted and just so worth at least giving it a chance.

These were some of my favorite webtoons on the app! Of course it’s not all of them because unfortunately there is a 10 image limit. I also made this because I’ve run out of new webtoons to read and would love if you guys commented some of your own recs. I can also do a part two with other ones I liked if y’all want more recommendations. You guys can even request specific categories like Drama or Sci-Fi and I can tell you my favorite ones from that genre.

Also a reminder - if you disagree with any of my praise of these webtoons be respectful about it. At the end of the day it’s my opinion and you don’t need to be rude when disagreeing with that opinion.

136 notes · View notes

actual-fucking-clown · 3 years

Text

Take your time then.

Aizawa x gender neutral reader

Story under the cut :)

Unedited but like edited but still not properly edited :)

Hope you enjoy!!!

a/n: it’s been a hot min since I’ve written a fic. I think the last time i was 14 and it was shit and on wattpad. Ha. I hate myself. N e way, I was recently writing some shit for an au me and my friend thought up and in the back of my mind I was like, “you should start writing fics again bc this is kinda fun”, soo lo and behold I made a post asking if anyone would be interested, shared a little too much personal shit in it but whatever, and have now decided to write this mother fucker. (3/25/21)

a/n: not sure if anyone will care about this series of a/n’s but I’m just chronicling thoughts ig. rewriting rn bc my first draft was short and ass. Also I’m thinking about opening requests after this is posted, will go into detail in a diff post maybe. (3/28/21)

a/n: deleted everything, rewriting. I just want to make something that might be decent and if I can give that feeling, y’know those chills you get when you read something utterly gorgeous, but I’m bad at writing. sadge (3/28/21, like several hours later)

a/n: ugh (4/1/21)

a/n: ugh pt 2 electric boogaloo. I can’t seem to move forward with the writing. I realized something like this might happen bc to solve a problem feelings need to be discussed and I fucking hate doing that so you can see where I’m fucking up lmaooooo (4/2/21)

a/n: I read angst to fuel my writing brain. So, read some angst, finally writing agian. This first section is probs as long as the story itself LMFAO(4/5/21)

Started: (3/25/21) Finished: (4/5/21)

Warnings: uh angst, curse words, like a lot, (i saw someone else put this as a warning, do I actually need it?), avoiding problems instead of actually facing them, mentions of shit so-so parenting, mentions of not being able to live up to high expectations, y’know, the works

Synopsis: Aizawa takes in Eri without running it by you first and expects you to be okay with it. That’s funny. He was wrong.

Can I preface this with a thought? I’m going to anyway,

all the fics I read paint him as the sweetest partner and I’m sure he is but I think they miss out on how blunt he is and his whole “Mr. Rationality” thing. So as much as I adore him I think there are situations that he’d be a bit more colder towards, a bit more straightforward about. Maybe even like a bit insensitive about but maybe bc he doesn’t have the full picture or something. so I guess this is another warning but aizawa is a little insensitive in the beginning (but like not really but kinda. it’s complicated)

Rain pattered softly against the window. The smell of some old random Bath and Bodyworks candle you’d dug out from a box you’d never bothered to unpack smothered the room. Some Netflix show idly played on a low volume on your computer, you’d lost interest in watching tv awhile ago. You needed a break. After the eventful month you’d been having you really needed this.

Now of course your whole year so far had been eventful. What with all the villain attacks on you and Shouta’s class and the kidnapping of one of your students, to just dealing with the more mundane problems with your students. No. You had no problem with that. The villains, although not easy, were something you were trained to handle. The smaller problems with your students weren’t arduous either, after all you weren’t too much older than them.

When reflecting on your situation, from and outside perspective it could be seen as the straw the broke the camels back, which sure, makes sense. After all, you’re bound to be stressed out by everything else, so why would this seemingly insignificant thing weigh heavier than a villain attack? Well if that is the situation why does this single straw feel like it weighs a ton? This is not that. This is not culmination of the events of this year draining the life from you. This is something entirely different. A panic inducing life change that completely took you by surprise mixed with your inability to actually face your problems.

You don’t blame them. You can’t. They’ve done nothing wrong. A child. A small, probably mentally scarred child is your problem. Well not her personally but the fear taking care of her instills in you. Despite working in the field that you do, you cannot for the life of you handle actual children. Sure you’re a little awkward with your class but at least they’re young adults and (vaguely) mature and independent to a certain extent. The fact that your long term boyfriend just came back one day, small child in tow and said “Hey I’ve gotta look after this one now” not verbatim obviously, for a lack of better words, fucked you up. He basically solo adopted a kid and, let’s be honest, he probably expected you to help out. But how could you? How could this man look at you and think “I want this person to help me raise an already fucked up child?” Ok sure, he doesn’t at first give off the “I’m totally father figure material” vibe but in the end he is extremely competent. You on the other hand, not so much.

You’d never been good with children. Tried your best to steer clear of them. Didn’t matter the place, didn’t matter who’s kid, you couldn’t handle them. You would just stand there, awkwardly, not entirely sure of what to do and petrified that there was the possibility of making some mistake which would upset the child and then oh wow look, your head got chopped right of your shoulders. That’s hyperbole of course but it does sum up the insurmountable fear that overcomes you whenever you have to deal with a child. So considering the fact that your long term boyfriend had suddenly decided to adopt and not at least warn you, didn’t sit right with you.

So, the best and most obvious choice, was to avoid your problem. Avoid Shouta, avoid Eri. Avoid the mention of them and you, avoid it all. And honestly you’d done pretty well so far. You were able to have as little contact with them as possible considering the close proximity of your living quarters in the teacher’s dorms. After all they were legally supposed to give you two separate rooms but you never actually used yours, well until now. You were living it up honestly. Did you feel awful? Of course. He is your boyfriend after all and you were sure Eri doesn’t deserve your cold shoulder but this is probably for the best. What could you offer her? You weren’t sure that you were a good role model for her or anyone for that matter. What did you know about raising kids? it’s not like you had parents to set a proper example for you. Of course they might have shown you what not to do but where do you go from there? Is shit like that really avoidable? You don’t want to be like them. You strive to be better but what if you can’t be. There’s also the added bonus of the fact that raising a kid seems taxing on a relationship. Now matter how strong you were sure that the stress of a kid could break a relationship down that then festers into something toxic and unrecognizable. You didn’t want that. God you couldn’t let that happen. No. This was definitely for the better.

Of course Aizawa didn’t feel the same. He was confused on why his partner had been so blatantly avoiding him. Did he do something wrong? He doesn’t remember doing anything that might’ve upset you. So why now? Why pull away now? He had to get down to the bottom of this but catching you was the hard part. You had been taking on more work, offering more assistance to the other teachers, picking up extra patrols, doing everything and anything to stay away from Shouta. It took him a month but he finally caught up to you. You were tired, worn out he knew that. Instead of loading yourself with work you’d decided to hole yourself up in your room. It was now or never.

You were pulled out of your peace at the sound of a few gentle knocks to your door. You really didn’t want to get it. You honestly couldn’t be bothered.

“(N/n)? Are you in there?” He hadn’t gotten it wrong right? He hadn’t been too distracted earlier and missed you leaving right?

“What’s up?” You hummed from your place by the window, not bothering to actually open the door.

“Can I come in?” Shouta asked, voice soft. You could barely hear him above the patter of the rain and the low humming of your laptop.

“Uh, no, kinda busy. Got loads of work to do. Need to focus, sorry. Maybe later?” You hesitantly spoke. Not sure if you were convincing enough.

Apparently you weren’t.

He sighed. “It’s been “later” for an entire month. Please (Y/n) just let me in. Whatever this is we can talk it out.” You had predicted that eventually Shouta would start to try to crack down on whatever the issue was but you didn’t expect it so soon.

“Uh...no?” You tried, hoping that maybe he’d just give up but that wasn’t Shouta.

“No, you don’t get that option, now please, open the door.” Although it was still soft his voice had taken a more stern tone.

“Oh no I’m dead. I guess I can’t open the door. What a shame. I guess the only way to talk with me now is in the pits of hell.” You quipped, trying to lessen the tension that already ran thick.

“(Y/n).” Aizawa sighed.

“Jeez fine. Talk about pushy.” You quipped once more to no avail.

Opening the door you were met with, well exactly what you expected. He stood there, arms crossed, a stern yet gentle look in his eyes, his lips pulled into a slight frown.

“Come in.” You mumbled as you stepped further into your room.

“So tell me. What’s wrong?” The sentence stirred so much. Of course you wanted to tell him. You wanted to spill your guts to the man you loved in hopes of comfort but you just can’t. You know you’ll just scare him off. You know you’ll make things worse.

So you stay silent.

He says nothing as he grabs your hands gently and leads you over to your bed. He sits the two of you down on the edge, muting the movie on the laptop sitting behind him.

“You know you can tell me if something’s bothering you right?” Shouta sent you a warm smile.

You weren’t very comfortable with discussing your feelings sometimes, it mostly stemmed from the fact that you never really could discuss them with anyone growing up which made it harder to confide in anyone now, as at this point bottling things up was a habit. But this was also just something that you were sure that you couldn’t talk about.

Silence answered him once again.

Now he took sometime to think about his approach, think about what could’ve happened that made you pull away. What did he do that was different from his norm? He was genuinely stumped and the fact that you weren’t helping him confused him even more.

You decided to take this time to lament the situation too. What was he going to do? Should you actually tell him or play it off? If you play it off will he still insist that something is wrong? If you tell him will he leave you? If you don’t tell him will he leave you? You risked a glance at him, he was still deep in thought.

Why did you have to adopt this fucking kid without at least warning me?

“What?” Your head shot up at the sound of his shocked voice.

“What?” You asked, genuinely confused.

“Eri’s the problem...?” He spoke slowly, not entirely sure if he’d heard you right.

“Did I say that out loud?” You squeaked.

“I’m pretty sure you mumbled something along the lines of “why’d you have to adopt that fucking kid”.” Shouta said, unsure if he’d heard wrong. Wanting to have heard wrong.

“No no no no no no! It’s not like that! I mean it is like that but not like that!” You frantically waved your hands in hopes of defusing the situation.

The way he looked at you made you want to cry. You felt horrible. You felt like the biggest asshole in the world and, at this point you probably were. He looked at you with such a look of heartbreak and disappointment and confusion it made you sick to your stomach. You felt light-headed and started shaking. You were right. You were right. You were always right. God why did you have to be right! Why did you have to be like this? Scared of raising a fucking child! It was asinine and irrational and you could probably move past it but thanks to your stupid fucking brain you just sealed your fate.

You scooted away from him still waving your hands frantically as no’s tumbled endlessly from your lips. You tried sputtering an apology, anything so that he wouldn’t look at you like that but nothing stuck. Nothing was comprehensible. Nothing worked. Nothing would work. Nothing will work. You were hopeless. It was hopeless.

“If it isn’t like how it seems then tell it to me straight.” Shouta finally spoke up.

You took a second to come down from your panic. You steeled your nerves as much as possible before you spoke.

“Um well, I have nothing against her it’s just that a little heads up would’ve been nice? I’m not all that great with kids so this is just kind of weird is all.” You were purposefully being vague in hopes that he’d understand what you meant and also maybe drop it.

“Not great with kids? You’re literally a teacher.” He pointed out.

“Yeah you know but she’s like a kid kid and let’s be honest I’m not too great with the students either.” You awkward laughed. So he wasn’t getting it.

“Wha-you’re fine with the students and I’m sure you’ll be fine with Eri, there was no reason to avoid me over this.” Shouta sighed. As good as he was with dealing with people, he was equally as shit. Or maybe it was just the fact that you gave him very little to work with. It was probably a bit of both. Still his dismissiveness was not helping you right now.

“No, no, no, no. I think I’ll stay here. Uh, good luck with your parenthood escapades and sorry to leave you high and dry like this but that’s going to have to be a no from me.” You rambled. He seemed to be getting a little tired of this.

“(Y/n) stop being irrational. She’s not even our kid I’m just looking after her for now. Why are you being difficult? I told you you were fine with the students and you’ll be fine with Eri, what else do you want to hear?” Shouta grumbled.

“Well uh I don’t know, uh...” You trailed off, this seemed to be going in a direction you really didn’t want it to go. A slight hostility settling in the air.

At your lack of a proper answer he clicked his tongue. He took a moment to reassess the situation. There had to be something he was missing. After all you were getting really worked up but if you weren’t going to talk to him there was nothing he could do. He shook his head before running a frustrated hand through his hair.

“(Y/n), please, please, just be honest with me. Whatever it is that’s bothering you, you can tell me. But I won’t be able to understand if you don’t.” Aizawa sighed, deciding that getting worked up about this was not the way to go, especially when you seemed to be especially distraught.

“Uh, god the thing is I don’t know entirely what to say to put the shitshow in my head into perspective.” You mumbled, trying desperately to figure out what to say that could clear the air but nothing seemed to be coherent enough.

“Take your time.” He decided that this was the best approach to things, making sure neither party got too worked up lest this turn into a fight.

The rain continued to patter softly against the window and your candle continued to burn an slightly off floral-ish scent. A deafening silence hung in the air because even though he was being as patient as possible some of his frustration leaked through, it was bound to though so you couldn’t exactly blame him. After all, you were probably equally as frustrated with yourself too.

“I’m just not good in a position like this. I’m not good with kids, especially someone like Eri who’s already so broken. You have that nurturing nature, it comes natural to you but I’m not on that level. I don’t know the first thing about caring for a child let alone one as already traumatized as her. I’d fuck it up and only make things worse. I don’t want you to reassure me that I’ll be okay with her, I want you to understand that I’m not comfortable with this and that it might take me awhile to come around. I’m sure I sound like the biggest asshole ever but please understand that this just isn’t something I’m ready for.” You had rambled a bit, you were aware of that, but it was the only way that you could properly express your feelings without making things too complicated.

Aizawa said nothing. Trying to figure out how to go about things.

Was he upset? Yeah, you two, even after several long years of being together, hadn’t discussed moving forward in your relationship in depth. And if he’d tried you seemed content with the point you two were at so he left it be, no reason to try and move forward when what you had was already fine the way it was. But recently he’d been craving more. Some mornings, when he’d be the first to wake, he’d study your features in the soft light of the sunrise and wonder what it’d be like to properly settle down with you. Get married, start a family, all that jazz. He’d taken in Eri only because it was the most rational decision. His quirk would be good for quelling hers had it ever gotten out of hand. But it also seemed to quell his musings of something more with you. He had imagined you being a good parental figure for the little girl and it made his heart flutter and his stomach explode with butterflies. But now seeing that that wasn’t what you wanted and how you weren’t ready for it, it stung. But in the end, he loved you. He’d easily give his life for you. So, if that meant waiting he’d wait. He’d wait a million years if he had to. He could do it.

Once again he spoke,

“Take your time then. I can wait.”

Tagslist?: @captainchrisstan (I think you said you wanted to be tagged but I’m also just small brained lol If u didn’t want to and I misinterpreted things just let me know :) )

#bnha x reader #mha xreader #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta #aizawa #my first fic #mha #bnha

58 notes · View notes

btsficsforthehumble · 3 years

Text

adj.: 1. Modern, unfamiliar, or different

2. Not based on or conforming to what is generally done or believed

pairing: reader x ot7

genre: college au; angst, fluff, smut, poly, ot7

Summary: You begin your first year at a prestigious university, set out on achieving your academic goals when a series of men step into your life that change the way you view the definition of love.

Part Two

Warnings: none in this chapter

Word count: 2.2k

After a moment of gathering your thoughts, you open your eyes to see other students begin to filter into the large auditorium. The little wooden desks that flip out from below the seats force people to squeeze past each other and give awkward sorries. Coming from calc, you thankfully don’t have to do the awkward shuffle as you came straight from a nearby building. While watching the students trickle in, you notice that many hold coffee in their hands and you suddenly are incredibly jealous… that guy from your last class wasn’t wrong in his assumption of your night owl status.

You sigh, and pull out your laptop to pull up the syllabus for the class. You were slightly nervous for this class, as it was completely out of your comfort zone. You hadn’t yet settled on a major, so you were knocking out some general classes while you were a freshman. And now, you were sitting in an Intro to Composition class to fulfill your creative work requirement. You really didn’t have experience with music in any formal sense, but you always loved to listen to music as you did basically anything. You found that music helped make the more unpleasurable bits of life more bearable. And the good bits, well, they always seem to have a good beat behind them too.

While you begin to look at some of the upcoming projects and their due dates, you feel the seat below you shift as someone occupies the seat next to you. When you glance up, you first see that since you pulled your laptop out, the lecture hall had quickly filled up. Your eyes dart over to your new seat buddy, and you can’t help but feel your eyes widen a bit. It was a boy with a slight build, but definitely a powerful aura. From your view, the sharpness of his jawline coupled with his soft looking cheeks was enough to inspire Michelangelo himself, you thought. While he was bent over slightly pulling out his desk, you shifted your eyes to look at his. He had soft eyes, and you could just barely tell he added a bit of a peach shadow and mascara to his look. Framing his face was inky black hair that was gelled to perfectly hang just to the edges of his dark brows.

Not wanting to get caught staring, you drag your eyes away from him and back to your laptop. You felt heat rise to your cheeks and willed it to recede --- you’ve had enough of embarrassing yourself today, you thought. Why oh why God, did you send freaking male models to your university, and not only that, but make them attend the same classes as you!

You quickly snap out of your thoughts as you hear a voice come from close to your right side. Eyes going from your laptop to the speaker, you realize it’s the boy next to you that spoke.

“Hey, just so you know I think your bag is caught on the chair, and looks like it’ll spill…”

His voice is more light and melodic than you anticipated from his angular features, but you don’t really fully process the thought before you realize that yes, your bag is precariously hanging from the edge of the chair between you, and it looks like your notebook and pens are about to end up scattered across the lecture hall. You gasp and grab your bag before it dumps, and lift the strap to untangle it.

“Oh my God, thank you so much, I’m sorry!” Your words rush out of your mouth as you zip the bag to prevent further disaster. How embarrassing, you groan to yourself internally.

He lets out a tinkling giggle, “No worries, happens to the best of us.” Said with a smile, he makes you feel better about the awkward situation almost immediately.

You smile back at him, “I suppose that’s true”. His grin widens a bit at your reply, and you notice his eyes squinch up to the point where they seem to disappear a bit, which you have to admit is incredibly endearing.

“My name’s Jimin!”

“Y/n. Nice to meet you!” Your smile gets larger at his introduction, it’s nice to be making a friend in a class that you already feel out of your depth in, and not to mention one that is as kind and not at all bad to look at.

“You too! So, what year are you? I’m a second year.” His smile never left his face.

“Oh, I’m only a first year actually!” You hated having to tell people you were a new student, honestly, but you kept your smile hoping he wouldn’t tease you too hard for it.

“Aw, you’re just a baby! Don’t worry, sunbae will take care of you!” His smile definitely had a cheshire quality to it now.

“Is that a promise sunbaenim?” You smirked back at him. While your words were formal, you were quick to pick up his flirty nature and turn it around on him. You saw his eyebrow lift in amusement at the subtle double entendre, and just as he was about to respond, a much louder voice cut him off from the front of the hall.

“Good morning everyone. Welcome to Intro to Composition. I am your professor, Doctor Choi. To my side here is this class’s learning assistant, Yoongi.” At this he swings his arm around to gesture to a boy giving a flat smile and nodding his head in greeting, his hands in his front pockets in a kind of forced relaxed stance.

“He is a fourth year student and is here to answer any questions you may have about the class material, as this is a rather large class.” The professor continues on, but you only give it partial attention, half because of already reading the syllabus, and half because you were getting a good look at the LA he introduced.

Yoongi was standing towards the wall of the auditorium, seemingly not wanting to be the center of attention. He wouldn’t have pulled your attention so much if it wasn’t for his gorgeous feline-like features that gave him an elegance, despite his slightly awkward demeanor. The glasses perched on his nose and the dark bangs swooped gently over his forehead gave beautiful contrast to his pale skin and pink lips. The silver hoops in his ears that reflected the overhead fluorescents gave him more of an edgy vibe, and it seemed to suit him well.

As it seems, Jimin thought so too. You turned to glance at your new friend to see him eyeing the LA you yourself was just examining. You watched him pull in one of his plush lips to pull it lightly with his top teeth. The quick action made you lift your brow in amusement. The introverted LA appeared to have a fan club in you and Jimin. After a quick glance around the room, you saw most of everyone beginning to type notes or watch your professor with way more attention than you or Jimin were giving him.

At this, you quickly refocused on the lecturer. Lord knows you need to pay attention to do well in this class with the zero experience you had with the material.

----

75 minutes later, the distinct sound of students shuffling as they put away their things and exit the room rings out. You and Jimin follow suit.

“What do you think of the first project that he introduced today? I’m a little nervous to be honest.” You look up from your bent over position to see Jimin’s eyebrows slightly furrowed as he expresses his concern.

“Yeah, me too. I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing with this stuff so it’ll definitely be a learning process.” Slipping into a conversation about the class was completely natural to you two. It seemed you two clicked as friends right off the bat.

“Tell me about it. I’m a freaking dance major, not a music major!” He let out a grown and tipped his head back as you both walked together out of the lecture hall.

“My advisor recommended this course to me because she said that some dance majors find it useful to learn about music construction, because it can help them be better at moving to the music. And because I tend to focus on contemporary, it makes sense. I’m just worried about not doing well in the class itself.” As he spoke, his face slipped into a cute pout.

His pout made you giggle, which you tried holding back behind your hand but he heard you before you were able to.

“What is so funny? Is my life struggle really that comedic to you hoobae?” He couldn’t hide the smile on his face, knowing how dramatic he was being. The slight giggle in his tone gave him away too.

“Of course not, I would never belittle your struggles, sunbae. You must have it so hard. Dancing requires an immense amount of brainpower, I don’t know how you are able to walk around with how big your brain is!” You widen your eyes for dramatic flair as you fight your lips from quirking up.

He stops dead in his tracts, and turns to you with his eyes nearly bulging out of his head at your sarcastic reply.

“Ya! Kids these days show no respect for their elders!” He bumps his hip into yours after catching up to you, “I’ll have you know I was class president for nine years in school! And valedictorian! And this is how I get treated!”

You make a noise of surprise in the back of your throat and turn to him. “Were you really, sunbae? That’s amazing!” His easy-going attitude definitely didn’t leave you with the impression that he was that dedicated to his studies.

Now slightly sheepish, he shrugs. “Yeah, it’s true. I was a model student back then.”

Looking forward, he gives a bit of a bitter smile to himself. “You are wondering why I became a dance major, I imagine.”

Sensing the slight sensitivity to the topic, you shake your head as you answer, “Well, who am I to judge who does what major when I can’t even decide on one for myself?” You give him a shy smile.

By this point, you were both strolling down the brick path connecting the buildings of campus together, the bite of winter still remaining in the wind that blows your hair off your face on the otherwise sunny day.

He turns to look at you, with a slightly more evaluative gaze. You only hold eye contact for a second before moving your eyes forward again, trying to avoid blushing under his attention.

“You have time. Don’t force yourself into a path that others make for you.” His face was contemplative, and it seemed like he might have been speaking from personal experience.

“That’s good advice sunbae. Maybe your brain really is super big.” Your attempt to make him smile again works, and he lightly pushes your shoulder.

“Brat!” You can’t help but to let out a loud giggle, to which he lets out his own.

Seeing the street you needed to turn on for your next task of the day, you go to say goodbye to Jimin. “Well, this brat has to go buy groceries, so she’ll see you later.” You go to turn away, but before you can, he grabs your hand.

“You’re just going to leave your new friend without giving him a way to contact you? What if he has some pressing composition questions, huh? What is he to do then?” The teasing tone makes you smile.

“Well, if I remember correctly the LA you were checking out earlier is at your disposal sunbae.” He sputters for a couple seconds, pink coming to his cheeks making your smile widen, taking pleasure in catching him off guard.

“Okay, but you can’t tell me he isn’t yummy y/n!”

At this, you let out a cackle and bend over from the force of your laugh. You didn’t expect his answer, but you did have to agree with him. That LA, Yoongi his name is you think, definitely is yummy. He is gorgeous in an understated way.

After you finish laughing, you relent. “Okay, I’ll give you that. I’ll spare you the embarrassment of asking the yummy LA your dumb questions. Hand me your phone”.

He pulls his phone out of his canvas tote, holding his laptop and what looks like a textbook. You quickly type in your contact information, and hand it back to him.

“I appreciate your pity on my poor soul, y/n.”

“It’s more pity on Yoongi’s soul, actually.” You have to raise your voice as you are already walking away as you reply, your head turned over your shoulder. Your smile is met with a shake of his head and a tongue sticking out in your direction.

You laugh as you continue on towards the grocery store, happy that you were able to make such a good friend on just the first day of classes. Who knows what the rest of the semester has in store for you, if this is just day one, you think to yourself. Only time will tell.

#BTS #ot7 #ot7 x reader #poly ot7 #fanfic

46 notes · View notes

fellulahh · 4 years

Text

MC’s drunk and let’s slip that she loves him - Part 2: the morning after (Lucifer, Mammon, Levi and Satan)

Read Part 1 here

Lucifer:

- “You heard me Mr Serious. I love you.”

- He gets a little sad thinking she’s only saying this because she’s drunk

- She ends up passing out in his lap

- He stays put on the sofa stroking her back, not wanting to wake up MC

MC woke up on Lucifer’s sofa. As she noticed her surroundings, she was visibly confused. ‘Why am I in here?’ She asked herself.

Turning her head, she noticed a tray on the table beside her with her favourite breakfast foods on and a warm cup of coffee. ‘Who left this here?’

“You’re finally awake I see.” A voice interrupted her thoughts.

She spun her head and narrowed her eyes as her focus adjusted to seeing Lucifer across the room. “Lucifer...” she breathed, her head sore. “Did you do all of this?”

“Yes - I took the liberty of preparing breakfast for you after you stumbled in here last night and passed out.” He chuckled to himself as he took a seat next to her.

‘Oh god’

MC’s face went red as she remembered the events of last night: coming home with Asmo, stumbling into Lucifer’s study...

She eyed him suspiciously. “Did we...did we talk last night?” She asked him, trying to rattle her brain as she realised there were gaps in her memory. Sipping her coffee, she watched Lucifer’s hesitant expression over the rim of her cup.

“You may have said a thing or two.” He said quietly, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

‘I did? I don’t remem—oh no’

“Lucifer I’m so sorry.” She shook her head embarrassed as she rubbed her cold exposed arms.

Noticing she wasn’t warm enough in last night’s dress, Lucifer slipped his cloak off himself, throwing it over her shoulders. “Don’t apologise.” He smiled, adjusting the material. MC felt her heart flutter at his contact. “It was rather enlightening to hear. Perhaps if you stay with me for the rest of the day I might admit my love for you too, Mrs Serious”

Mammon:

- Gets really flustered when MC starts embracing him

- “I love you Mammon!”

- *mammon screams internally*

MC woke up to the sound of snoring. ‘Who on earth is that?!’ She wondered, quickly sitting up in bed. Her head hurt as she tried to recognise where she was.

Realising she was in Mammon’s room her eyes widened. Then as she turned her head to see him in bed beside her, she almost screamed. ‘We didn’t, did we?’ She panicked as she remembered her drunk confessions to him the previous night.

Hesitantly lifting the edge of the duvet, MC peaked under to glance at the sleeping demon. To her surprise he was fully clothed. In other words, nothing happened. Relieved, she flopped back down into the bed. As her head hit the pillow, Mammon’s eyes shot open.

“M—MC?!” He spoke sleepily, quickly rolling over. “You’re awake.” He sighed, rubbing his tired head.

“Hi Mammon.” She smiled sheepishly. “I guess I fell asleep in here last night.”

“Ya did a lot more than that.” He spoke with red cheeks, leaning on an elbow to look at her. MC couldn’t help but let an embarrassed smile cross her face as she remembered the words she spoke to Mammon.

“I should probably go.” She breathed, flipping her legs over the side of the bed.

“No!” Mammon quickly exclaimed, reaching over to grab her arm. MC quickly turned her head. Realising his outburst, he quickly retracted before scratching his head. “I—I mean you don’t have to go.” He spoke quietly. MC’s face softened as she watched the second eldest. “You can stay if ya want...”

He looked down at the bed. A smile spread across MC’s lips as she slipped back under the duvet to be with him. “Okay.” She beamed, surprising him.

“Only if ya cuddle me though! The Great Mammon doesn’t share his bed for free.” He declared causing a loud laugh to escape MC’s lips.

Levi:

- She absolutely showers him in compliments: calling him cute, gushing over how good he is at gaming, telling him he is a wonderful otaku

- “I wish you’d love yourself as much as I love you!”

- His head practically explodes

MC eyes slowly opened. Through her hazy vision all she could see was blue. Eyebrows furrowing, she tried to adjust her sight but suddenly something orange appeared in front of her. Focusing on what it was, MC suddenly let out a scream.

She sat up panting having just been face to face with Henry 2.0. Her eyes scanned the room quickly, noticing a quizzical looking Levi staring back at her from his bean bag.

‘Did I really pass out by Henry’s fish tank?’

Feeling Levi’s gaze linger on her, she turned to him with a tired face. “I’m sorry if I frightened you.” she murmured. “And I’m sorry for falling asleep in your room.”

“I wanted to wake you last night but whenever I tried you demanded to be with with Henry.” He mumbled. “It was quite funny.”

MC stayed quiet as she processed what an idiot her drunk self is. Noticing Levi hadn’t turned his head back to the television, she raised an eyebrow. “Why are you looking at me like that, Levi?” She chuckled curiously.

“No reason.” He shot, quickly turning away.

“Tell me!” She whined, still feeling mortified from her choice of bed.

“It’s nothing!” He shook his head blushing, “you just might have said something last night - it probably didn’t mean anything.”

“What was it?” She asked concerned. ‘Did I tell him?’

“Y—you said you love me.” He mumbled, fumbling with his headphones.

‘Yep, I did.’

“Oh my.” She giggled to herself. “I’m sorry if I scared you!”

Silently, she cursed to herself as she tried to keep a cool front.

“You didn’t scare me!” He blurted out, looking at her with wide eyes. MC felt a sense of relief hearing his words. “I was actually hoping you’d wake soon...I wanted to know if you wanted to stay here and watch a movie with me.”

“I’d like that.” MC smiled, causing Levi’s heart to explode.

Satan:

- He ends up reading her a love story, MC keeps asking ‘is this our love story??’ Which Satan finds highly amusing

- “You can keep laughing but you and I both know we’re going to have a happy ending.” She slurs

- Ends up passing out while Satan’s reading to her, he can’t stop his mind circling thinking about what MC said, ‘did she mean it?’

Hearing a nearby fumbling, MC’s eyes slowly opened. Tiredly turning her head on the pillow, she pulled a confused face when she saw Satan across the room, seemingly looking for a book on his shelves.

She quickly glanced under the duvet, noticing she was still wearing her outfit from last night. Seeing her clothes must have triggered something in her brain because all of a sudden she remembered bursting in Satan’s room completely hammered the night before.

Looking up at the ceiling she rolled her eyes, thinking about how loud and obnoxious she must have been while drunk.

With Satan being completely unaware of her consciousness, MC leant across the bed. Her eyes were fixated on a book on the nightstand.

‘Why does that look familiar?’

Quietly picking up the book, she examined the cover before smiling. It was her favourite love story! Reading it often reminded her of Satan and how much sh—oh.

Distracting her from her thoughts, Satan noticed she was awake. “Well if it isn’t Miss Read-Me-A-Story-So-I-Can-Fall-Asleep-Straight-Away” he laughed. “How are you feeling today?”

“Awful - no thanks to your shade.” She mumbled, making him laugh.

“I see you found it.” He pointed at her, “the book you demanded I read to you last night.”

“It’s my favourite.” She spoke, looking down.

“I know.” He nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Do you remember what you kept asking me when I was reading it to you? Just before you fell asleep?” He asked curiously.

“I do.” She sighed, looking at him sheepishly. “‘Is this our love story?’” She quoted herself dorkily.

“And do you remember what you said after?” He smirked.

MC glared at him playfully as he teased her. “Yes.” She let out a deep breath. “I said you and I are going to have a happy ending.”

“Now what exactly does that mean?” He pondered dramatically.

“Have you not embarrassed me enough?” She jokingly scoffed.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” He apologised, placing a hand on her cheek. She looked at him with big eyes as she embraced his warm contact. “I’m going to go and make some tea. I hope you’ll still be here when I return.” He spoke sincerely.

MC smiled down at the book, her heart fluttering. “I’m still waiting for you to finish reading this to me.” She said, holding up the novel, giving him her answer.

He had a wide grin on his face as he removed his hand from her cheek, happily leaving the room to make them both a beverage.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me one shot #obey me mammon #obey me fanart #obey me imagines #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me hc #obey me beel #obey me levi #obey me leviathan

993 notes · View notes

percyinpanties · 3 years

Note

hey I'm the pipeyna anon and that's ok!!! can u do pipeyna with piper pining after hot jock Reyna which hopefully ends happy (smutty)

just a quick warm-up, i say, i won’t spend too much time on this. i really had to resist just going on and on and on with this. i miss writing this ship, damn.

anyway - this fits really well with an enemy to lovers prompt i have for jercy, so thats what im hinting at too here.

Read on Ao3

for context : i always write college aus from a UK uni perspective bc that’s all i know and i don’t care to adapt to how it might or might not work in the u.s. (sorry)

rating: teen+ (no smut in this one, but let me tell you, this TEMPTED me)

words: 2.2k

___

“An actual goddess” Piper says wistfully from where she’s leaning against the wall next to Percy, taking back the cigarette she’d just bummed of him. Her eyes are glued on the field, and more precisely on Reyna, smile on her face and water bottle in her hand as she jogs over to Jason standing at the side of the field. They greet each other with a hug, even as Reyna wrinkles her face, seemingly complaining about her own sweatiness.

It’s coincidence that the end of Reyna’s soccer practice collides conveniently with Piper’s and Percy’s late seminar on Mondays. It isn’t coincidence that Percy and her have taken to sharing a cigarette on the side of the building that looks out toward the field during their break, however.

Percy makes a non-committal noise and his eyes follow Piper’s gaze while she takes a drag of the cigarette and wrinkles her nose. She needs to quit smoking for good, she thinks, and flicks the ash to the ground. There was a brief moment in first year when Piper thought that Percy might be interested in Reyna, or she in him, but luckily, nothing ever came of that.

“You think they’re dating?” Percy asks, arms crossed over his chest now, making no move to take the cigarette back again. He’s not even pretending not to be staring, his eyes intense where they flit between Reyna and Jason. Piper on the other hand has the common decency to at least cast her eyes away every now and again before she’s caught looking for a little too long.

At the edge of the field, Reyna and Jason are standing close together now, chatting about god knows what, smiling and laughing. They’re certainly comfortable with each other, but Piper can’t say that’s much of an indication given how she’s around Percy.

“I hope not.” Piper mutters and Percy laughs at that, even though she knows he agrees. Percy wouldn’t admit it in a million years, but Piper would bet real money that he has a thing for Jason, too, as much as he claims to hate the guy. She’d have to be deaf and blind not to notice the tension between them.

It would make sense, though, in a way. Jason is captain of the men’s rugby team, Reyna of the women’s soccer team. Some of their practices collide and the two clubs do most of their weekly socials together, and Piper’s seen the two of them hanging out aside from that plenty as well. Reyna and her haven’t talked much about Jason, maybe because Piper hasn’t actually exchanged more than five words with him and never had much of an urge to change that, but she knows that Reyna and Jason have known each other before university.

Around Jason, Reyna seems to let her guard down, something Piper has only managed to achieve a handful of times since they met during their first year.

Jason laughs at something Reyna says, eyes bright and head thrown back and Piper can’t deny that he’s handsome, at the very least. He’s fairly decent, too, as far as guys go, and really, Piper knows she shouldn’t be hoping that there is nothing between Reyna and him if that is what would make Reyna happy.

“Invite her to the party.” Percy suggests then, drawing Piper’s attention back from the tangent her brain was so insistent to start on. When Piper turns her face to look at him, he’s already looking back at her, one eyebrow arched. “I was going to, anyway, but it’s different coming from you yourself.”

He’s not teasing her, it’s an honest suggestion, and technically not even a bad one. It’s Percy’s birthday this weekend, and if nothing else, it would be a good excuse to hang out again. Percy knows a ton of people, but he usually doesn’t invite too many to his party, so with any luck, it won’t be too crowded to actually spend some time with Reyna.

More than that, though, it’s another opportunity for Piper to finally get a move on. Percy, Piper knows, thinks that Piper’s pining had reached a point where it’s almost comical halfway through last year, but even so, Piper has yet to manage to actually act on her feelings.

A party is casual enough that she can always play it off as nothing serious when it ends up blowing up in her face. Piper might finally get over herself and just ask Reyna out already – although she’s tried that a few times before only to find herself tongue tied and staring at Reyna like she hung the moon in the sky. She’s been head over heels for Reyna since maybe three weeks after they met in first year, and now that they’re starting their third and final year, Piper needs to get a move on or it’ll simply be too late. Granted, she’s scared shitless at the prospect of being turned down, but at this point, even that would be better than pining forever and never finding out if she’d even stand a chance.

“Yeah… maybe.” Piper says finally, and manages a small smile towards Percy who bumps his shoulder against hers playfully. They should be heading back inside, so Piper sneaks a last glance toward Reyna and this time, finds her looking back.

They don’t share any classes this year, and Piper doesn’t usually run into Reyna on campus, so on Wednesday morning, she ends up texting Reyna on her way to class. She fumbles with her phone, almost tripping over her own two feet trying to type the words out as fast as possible, and ends up having to sidestep off the path to actually send the texts.

Hey you.

we’re having a party on Saturday, it’s Percy’s birthday.

Piper wants to add more, but instead, she bites her lip and stuffs her phone back into the pocket of her jeans. It’s almost an open invitation like this already anyway, and Piper wants to gauge Reyna’s first reaction before deciding exactly how she’s going about asking. Technically, it would be so easy to just as Reyna to go with her, specifically, to the party, but the intention might be lost over text and anyway, wouldn’t it be simpler to just invite her generally?

Piper frets throughout the entirety of her first lecture, and most of the second one, for nothing. Reyna doesn’t answer, even though the messenger app shows Piper that she’s read both texts already, and Piper tries not to be disappointed about it. She doesn’t know what Reyna’s schedule is like today, the girl might just be busy and planned on replying later. It makes sense, much more than Piper’s second thought that Reyna is not answering because Piper is annoying and Reyna doesn’t actually want to spend any time with her. She knows that thought is stupid, knowing that however does nothing to ease the anxious knot in Piper’s stomach.

Piper finds herself checking her phone more often than not. It would be funny if it wasn’t so ridiculous, and if the lecturer wasn’t so clearly catching on that Piper isn’t paying as much attention to the class as she is to her phone. She texts Percy as well, but she knows he’s in that seminar he shares with Jason, so chances are that she won’t be getting a reply on that end anytime soon either. In the end, she has to force herself to put her phone away and actually focus on the lecture up front, even though by that point, she is already lost as to what they’re even talking about in the first place. It’s no good, and Piper can’t deny being relieved when the lecturer eventually dismisses the class.

She doesn’t allow herself to check her messages until she’s across campus in the coffee shop, queuing for some much needed caffeine and fishing out her phone so she doesn’t have to make small talk with anyone while she waits in line. Reyna still hasn’t replied, but at least Percy has messaged her after his seminar.

I’m gonna strangle him, Piper. You’ll have to bust me out of prison because they are going to arrest me for goddamn murder.

All she’d asked was if his classes were as boring as hers today, and while she had expected Percy to go off about Jason in reply, this isn’t exactly what she’d thought to be reading today. She smiles at her phone, types out a quick reply and moves up in the queue.

That bad? What’s he done now?

The way Percy talks about Jason makes Piper think of a Cartoon Network villain, always plotting, provoking and scheming. The few times she’s spoken to Jason, the guy wasn’t half bad, and if Piper is honest, she doesn’t quite get the vendetta these two have with each other. She suspects though that it has something to do with how ‘infuriatingly attractive, like fucking superman or something’ Percy described Jason after their first class together.

It’s like he thinks I’m stupid or something. Got a dumb fucking project to do together and he honestly told me that he ‘needs to pass this class so iif I’m not planning to put in the work, we might as well ask for new partners right away’

Like, excuse me, bitch? My grades are better than yours, for one thing

And for another, it’s not like good-old Dodds is gonna let us switch anyway

Piper huffs audibly while she reads the texts. It’s clear Percy’s actually upset by this, and she figures it will only get worse if they actually have to do the work together in the coming weeks. Before she can shoot Percy a reply though, she’s next in line.

Piper orders her coffee, steps aside to wait once she’s paid, and rereads Percy’s texts before she types her reply to Percy.

Sounds like a dick move.

Piper’s almost inclined to defend Jason for a moment, since Percy mostly doesn’t pay much attention in class, especially in Mrs. Dodds seminars – so how is Jason meant to know how much effort Percy puts in outside of it? On the other hand, though, Piper knows how Percy is, and how personally he’s clearly taken Jason’s comment already, so trying to convince him otherwise would simply be fruitless.

Once Piper’s coffee is done, she heads back outside, finding an empty bench to enjoy the break before her next class. If nothing else, at least Percy’s ranting is distracting her from Reyna, and the party, and asking the other girl out – and in between the rapid texts Percy and her are sending back and forth Piper almost forgets about it entirely. Until she has to head back to her last class, that is, and sees that Reyna has, so far, still left her on read.

Piper hesitates for a moment, clicking on the text field without typing anything just yet. Is she going to come off as desperate if she texts again, or should she just clarify now before it gets too late and Reyna already makes different plans for the weekend?

Piper types out a few words, deletes them again and pockets her phone only to get it back out a few seconds later to try again. She shouldn’t be walking and texting, especially given that she should be going faster to actually make it to her lecture in time, but Piper knows that if she doesn’t send this text now, she’ll spend another lecture agonising over what to say.

So yeah, I wanted to invite you too ofc :)

Piper cringes at her wording, but figuring it won’t get much better, she sends the text anyway and finally tucks her phone back into her pocket to actually hurry to class.

By the time Reyna replies, it’s late and Piper is sitting on the beat-up couch in her shared flat’s living room, watching something trashy on TV without really paying much attention at all. Percy is clanking around in the kitchen, making something that smells good enough to remind Piper that she should probably be getting herself some food, too. She’s about to get up and rummage through her fridge compartment in search of something edible when her lock screen lights up with a message from Reyna, and that derails any thoughts of food immediately. Piper isn’t subtle in the way she practically lunges for her phone, but luckily, Percy can’t see and judge her from his position in the kitchen.

Sorry, long day, reads the first text, following a few seconds later by another one.

Promised Jason to hang out but I’d love to :(

Piper bites her lip, knowing before typing out the words that Percy won’t like what she’s doing in the slightest.

You could bring him? Percy won’t mind.

Except that Percy most certainly will mind, Piper thinks, and grimaces. If she hadn’t come off as desperate before, she most certainly does now – texting back within less than a minute after having been left on read all day, only to offer that Reyna can bring her friend (boyfriend?) along as well if that means she’ll be there.

There’ll be other opportunities, Piper tells herself, and scrubs a hand over her face. She needs to chill, and maybe she needs to grab a cigarette and step outside and calm down before she embarrasses herself even further.

Piper stares at the screen. How on earth is she meant to interpret this? At this rate, she won’t make it until Saturday, dying of one crisis or another before then.

if you’re sure? I’ll ask him.

haven’t seen you in a while, would be nice to hang out again ;)

I’m sure.

#will i continue this? maybe #i do kinda wanna write the party part and have it ending ~spicy~#pipeyna #piper mclean #reyna ramirez avila arellano #my stuff #my fic #prompts #teen+#pjo #Anonymous #jercy #in the bg

36 notes · View notes

miss-ali-lawliet · 3 years

Note

Hello

For the ask game:

3. what do you think about Light? 10, 24 and 25, please.

Thank you for the asks and honestly great questions!! I have a feeling this most is going to be a bit long, so hopefully I can get my thoughts and everything out in a way that’s easy to keep up with!

Also spoiler warning for those who haven’t finished the series!

~~~

3. What do you think about Light?

I honestly have SO many mixed feelings about him, like it’s hard to just be like ‘oh i hate him’ or ‘oh I love him’ because it just isn’t that simple for me personally, which that itself is a great sign of a character since you have to think about that sort of thing with them. Right off the bat though, I’d like to say that I think Light as a character is phenomenal. He takes the character-type of what many would consider as the ‘perfect guy’ for the main character but twists it in a way that makes the reader/viewer question the protagonist their supposed to be rooting for.

I also think of Manga!Light and Anime!Light as different people to an extent, as in the manga you watch a seemingly ‘normal’ guy who has issues with the world deal with the sudden power that was thrown on him. I talked about it before in my last ask post, but the scene after Light killed his first person after testing out is a great way to express how he feels, and is one of the few times we really see Light show THAT much emotion. He shows regret and guilt, thinking himself as a murderer and you can tell how it affected him. Anime!Light you don’t get that, and instead he seemed to just take on the task of being Kira and god of the new world without much else thought. I definitely prefer M!Light in comparison to A!Light to say the least, so I’m going to focus a bit more on the M!Light side of things.

I personally found myself wanting to have hope for Light, even though I knew that he wasn’t going to get better but instead worse over time, and honestly it’s probably better story wise to keep him as the ‘bad guy’ who stays bad instead of trying to pull a redemption arc out of no where or something. I have a feeling I’m beginning to ramble, so I’m going to try to wrap this up.

I have a love-hate relationship with Light, because even though I don’t agree with his actions and the tactics he uses to get the ‘perfect world’ he wants, and I do find his thinking flawed and find him very arrogant the more power/ego Kira gains over the world as the story goes on. Yet I find him as a character in general just fascinating. I was definitely more on L’s side of things and found myself enjoying a majority of the scenes where people simple put Light in his place and treat him like a dude with a god complex rather than what he wants/expects. There’s just a lot of thoughts I have about him, but yeah it’s just a love-hate sort of thing for me when it comes to Light.

~~~

10. Do you ship any characters?

I usually find myself being a bit of a multishipper when it comes to most fandoms, it just depends on the source material and the characters obviously. I definitely can enjoy a lot of the ships when it comes to the fandom, but even if I don’t like a pairing I do my best to remain pretty respectful about it.

One thing to note is that I can’t really find myself shipping L with anyone in the series to be honest, like I can find myself enjoying his relationship dynamics of characters but with my own interpretations and DR stuff, It’s hard to view him with someone else romantically.

Some ships I like/don’t mind though (especially when it comes to au stuff as most of these in canon probably wouldn’t work out lol): Matt x Mello, Mikalight, Rem x Misa ig? (more like the concept is sweet i think even though in canon Misa treats her pretty badly and Rem said she doesn’t think of her that way), uhhh. My brain is pulling a blank right now but these are the main ones that come to mind.

Some platonic pairings I enjoy (as there are a lot more of these for me): Matt + Mello, Mello + Near, Matsuda + Misa, Honestly all the task force have really interesting dynamics with one another, L + Watari (obviously in a father/parent way, I just like seeing their interactions), Ryuk + Light, Ryuk + Misa, L + Matsuda’s relationship is honestly pretty funny to me and honestly L’s dynamics with the task force is also interesting as well.

I think that’s it when it comes to shipping stuff atm

~~~

24. Any headcanons you’d like to share?

Oh! I feel like I have a couple but at the moment my mind is pulling a blank for some reason. Some head canons that do come to mind though deal with my Death Note DRs in some way but they can also be interpreted with the actual series itself, so hopefully this is good enough! Usually I do better with a certain prompt of some sort though for future references though!

I’ve seen a post a bit ago about Matt and Mello being roommates of some sort at Wammy House and they find themselves in that roommate mentality still when they do room together, and honestly I agree so much with that.

When Mello leave the Wammy House I see him not contacting Matt or anyone from Wammy House as he turns his focus on his side of the Kira Case, even if apart of him misses them and what he grew up around. Yet he pushes through because he’s stubborn and wants to do whatever he can on his own with the Mafia without involving someone like Matt, probably for his safety. After the explosion though when he has no one on his side, I think that’s when he realizes there’s only one other person he can truly trust and rely on and that’s when he contacts Matt to help him on the case.

Not really a headcanon as the author himself mentioned that the rivalry between Mello and Near was one-sided and that Near actually liked Mello, I do see both boys sometimes wondering what it would have been like if they didn’t have that rivalry and became friends instead. I honestly see Mello thinking that more towards the end of the case and after the explosion, but at that point he’s probably thinking it’s too late to even pursue a friendship like that with him.

I like to think that at Wammy House, Matt didn’t really understand Mello’s rivalry with Near and at times questioned him about it at first but he was pretty supportive

He didn’t have anything against Near though and was pretty indifferent on the whole thing personally, but if it made Mello happy and helped him achieve a goal he had no reason to deny.

Matt in general in general is someone that gives the vibes of not caring about much, but if you’re close to him he is literally SO loyal?? Like if someone close to him has an issue, even if he might make a comment or remark, he is always there to back them up.

I like to think that over time Light actually enjoys Ryuk’s presence, kind of like a sense of some sort of comfort that he isn’t alone of some sort? Like at first he might have been annoyed and still gets annoyed whenever he acts annoying and distracts him from work, but also I think he doesn’t like hate his company. Probably would rather be around him than Misa unfortunately </3

I think that L and Chief Yagami had a pretty good friendship, or perhaps not friendship but i’m not sure what to call it atm. Like I think L respected him a lot and Soichiro was the same towards him, and I think at times if they decided not to talk about the Kira case it’s usually pretty good for the most part.

It’s not really a headcanon but Matsuda trying his best to get some positive attention for things he does in the case is funny and kinda sweet. Most of the time L probably ignores his antics and doesn’t really feed into it, but there’s like one or two times where he actually does

It’s probably very small, probably something along the lines of “Good job.” or something but Matsuda feels so happy that he even acknowledged him like that and didn’t call him stupid for once. Definitely was a good boost in his mood

I find the thought of Light and Ryuk playing video games early on when he first gets the notebook charming in an almost funny way. Like Light probably either was talked into it by the shinigami or was like ‘screw it, I have nothing else to do atm’ and Ryuk is just happy he can actually do something and not just watch him working

Light is definitely competitive in games though, like he’ll probably try to act like it wouldn’t matter but like most things with him, but it did lmao

I find the thought of the wammy kids doing things to mess with/annoy Roger so entertaining. Like I feel bad for him, but if I were asked to assist in the pranks or antics I probably would just for his reaction alone

Think that’s all for random misc head canons for now, if you want something more specific just send a request!

~~~

25. Ramble on about whatever you’d like

Thank you for this one! I usually feel a little guilty whenever I ramble on about things in general, but the fact that some people are interested in my thoughts on things is so sweet!

At the moment though I’m honestly not too sure what to ramble about as there’s a lot on my mind and it’s hard to pick one thing and honestly it can be a bit hard to go through all my thoughts at times.

But! One thing I will always stand behind that ya’ll have probably seen countless of times so far is that the Wammy Boys deserved better and I will always say it if necessary tbh. Speaking of wammy house though, that comes to mind is that I wish I could learn more about it at times, yet I also enjoy the mystery of it in a way. It’s something I’d be so down to learn more about, but if not I’d be pretty okay with that outcome. Plus just leaves things for fans to interpret in their own ways if they want, and that’s something I definitely enjoy when it comes to the fandom is how they take something vague and turn it into so much more.

Also speaking of the fandom I’m surprised yet so thankful/grateful for is that the death note fandom is still going on here. It was such a relief seeing that I wasn’t alone in my hyperfixions and thoughts, and seeing all the talent in the art, writing, etc, is just amazing and something I look forward to a lot in all honesty. I’m also just so thankful for the people that take time out of their day to look at my blog in general. You like, reblog, or follow me? I literally want to be your best friend and if I wasn’t so nervous about starting conversations with ya’ll I definitely would have messaged a couple of ya’ll a while ago. Until then I hope you just read this and see me on your blogs and hope my reactions and comments is enough until I get less nervous lmao.

One last thing before i close the blog off is that I love L with my full heart and I adore Matt and Mello so very much. My favorite lads <3

~~~

Alright that should be it for this post! If you stuck around, thank you!

Some future posts to expect: Matt, Mello, + a f!reader based on the dream I talked about before, some L angst, and possibly something with Light :)

Anyways have a great day/night and here’s a reminder to stay hydrated and eat something if you haven’t already <3

11 notes · View notes

happytsukki · 4 years

Note

Can I req 51 and 94 for Ushijima pls!! 😊

thank you for requesting!! this is my first request and i was so nervous with how it would turn out but i would say i’m pleased with it :)

i think ushi can be a bit hard to characterize properly so i hope i did him some justice

&& i didn’t mean to drag it in for so long ugh i can’t write anything less than 1k i swear

— RED

pairing: time skip! ushijima x f! reader

prompt: “pretend to be my date, just for tonight please.” + “wanna hear something funny? i think i’m falling for you.”

wc: 1.6k

includes goshiki + ushijima time skip

ushijima despises losing. whether it be the volleyball match that led his team to nationals or another childish game of rock paper scissors with kageyama over who would have to stay behind after practice to clean, he would much rather indulge in the taste of victory.

this situation was no different.

“i bet you and kageyama won’t bring dates to the banquet tomorrow,” hoshiumi teased, a satisfying smile dancing on his lips after kageyama groans out of annoyance.

amid the boys’ childish bickering, ushijima ponders long and hard. if this really was a bet, then he was not going to be the one to lose, especially to kageyama and hoshiumi. losing to them was a humiliation that he was ready to take all measures to avoid. surely finding a date wouldn’t be that hard if he already had someone in mind.

“no. i have a date.”

his voice echoes through the busy locker room, falling onto the ears of his older, much more experienced teammates. their locker room talk about their own personal lives shifts onto the focus ushijima’s ‘mystery’ date.

“ushijima is bringing a date!”

“huh..i must say, i’m impressed.”

“you didn’t tell us you had a girlfriend, ushiwaka.”

now that the entire schweiden adlers team seemed to be well aware of ushijima’s date to the banquet tomorrow, he couldn’t back out. how embarrassing it would be if he arrived without a date adorning his arm. he would never hear an end to it, knowing how shameless his seniors were when it came to teasing the newcomers to the team.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

“i what?”

ushijima clears his throat, “pretend to be my date, just for tonight.” he showcases his signature, stoic expression except his fierceness is replaced by uncertainty. “please.”

you take a long sip of your matcha green tea, compliments of the miracle boy seated in front of you at the moment. ushijima was no stranger to you, but neither was he your best friend. during high school, you were practically tied to the hip with tendou, which also just happened to be ushijima’s best friend.

hangouts of two turned into a party of three and while you couldn’t deny that you were fascinated by the complexity of the ace, you always kept it to yourself. maybe it was the way that he lived and breathed volleyball, his presence on the court easily domineering any competitor. or maybe it was how unintentionally funny he was off the court; always making you giggle at his struggle to understand idioms or how long it took him to read tendou’s mangas because he read the ads as well.

after high school, the two of you naturally lost touch, so it was indeed a shock for him to reach out after all this time.

“do i look like some sort of escort to you?” you narrow your eyes at him, leaning forward to the other side of the table.

“i don’t know what an escort is, nor do i know what they look like,” he says, reaching for his phone to do a quick google search.

then you laugh. ushijima’s eyes immediately dart from his phone back to you, the corners of his lips up turning to the familiarity of that sweet tune.

“i’m only kidding, ushijima.” you chuckled cheerfully. “but what’s in it for me?”

“ah, i see,” he says, scratching the back of his neck and pulling his thick-padded wallet out from his pocket.

your hands shoot out, pressing him to put away his wallet, “not what i meant,” you reassure him. “ i meant more like...how about you treat me for dinner one of these days?”

ushijima is beyond perplexed. he’s not exactly sure why you wouldn’t accept the money if you wanted dinner. he was more than willing to pay you 100,000 yen which could buy almost a week’s worth of dinner, but he decided against asking and simply nodded along to your terms.

“deal. see you tonight then.”

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

“wow.”

those are the only words to escape ushijima’s lips once his eyes fall onto your figure.

you’re dressed in a little black dress with matching red bottom louboutins, topped off with a classic red lip.

“um...are we gonna get going soon?” you prodded in the passenger seat of his car.

ushijima didn’t even notice how long he seemed to be fixated on your lips but he shakes himself out of it, hoping that you don’t notice the same color scattering his cheeks.

once you arrive at the banquet, you’re greeted with a parade of hoots and hollers which seem to come from his teammates.

“wait, ushijima you actually brought a date? we thought you were kidding.” remarked a man far older than ushijima.

“i do not lie. i told you i would.” ushijima dismisses their banter, rather placing his hand on your lower back to guide you away from the overwhelming attention.

“OI, USHIJIMA YOU HAVE A DATE? IS SHE YOUR GIRLFRIEND?” a shorter boy with light-colored hair approaches from behind. “that means you beat kageyama ha! look at him over there, no date.”

he points a finger towards an empty table where a black-haired boy is situated, boredom seemingly overcoming him as he plays with his salad.

“y/n, this is hoshiumi, one of our outside hitters.”

hoshiumi flashes you a smile and rather than a handshake, he places a small peck on your hand and winks at you.

“so are you dating?”

“actually y/n is—“ ushijima begins, but before he can continue you cut him off.

“yes, of course. why else would i be here?” you chuckle. hoshiumi’s bright demeanor immediately deflates and he waddles away, a pout glued on his face.

relief washes over ushijima as he watches hoshiumi walk away, but he’s not sure why. “you didn’t have to y/n.”

“go big or go home, right?” you shrug nonchalantly, interlacing your fingers with his to drag him to the nearest table.

the rest of the night reminds you of high school, except without tendou. this time it’s just you and ushijima. you think maybe you’ve changed since then, transforming from someone that was once too timid to raise their hand in class to a top student in university.

but ushijima? he hasn’t changed at all, his body might’ve grown bigger and taller, but he was still the volleyball-loving dork you came to know.

“i missed you.” he blurts out, instantly catching you off guard that you almost chock on water. “are you okay?”

you were so not okay.

how could he just say that like it was nothing? what was it supposed to mean?

“i’m fine,” you smile at a worried ushijima after recomposing yourself. “what do you mean ‘you missed me?’” you question.

“tendou talks about you a lot when i call,” he explains. “i just thought...we’re in the same city but we never catch up or talk anymore. are we still friends?”

you’ve always thought of ushijima as a friend but you also assumed that he thought you were just “tendou’s friend."

“oh my god, of course, we’re friends ushi!” you beam and you can’t help but notice his faint smile. “i guess it has been a while, huh? so tell me everything.”

ushijima tells you of his professional volleyball career after high school. from the big accomplishments like winning league to the smallest victories such as when he watches goshiki play in his first v-league game.

he listens intently as you explain your part-time job at an editing company all while you study hard during your last year of university.

unfortunately, his teammates jump in and steal him away from you. rather than sitting idly by, you decide to take a breather on the rooftop.

you climb up the flights of stairs and take in the scenery.

an inky canopy of the endless abyss you and your thoughts. you peek over the ledge, sighing loudly while your brain edged the brink of exploding.

“i was scared you left.” a voice pants from the doorframe, there, ushijima stands, breathless and sweating.

he joins you by your side, silently gazing in awe at the sky.

“wanna know something funny?” you breathe, turning your head towards ushijima, who is far too focused on the millions of glistening freckles of light scattering the night sky. “i think i’m falling for you.”

his breath hitches in his throat and he swears he can hear his heart pounding behind his ribcage. his eyes slowly shift from the stars to you, already peering up at him.

his eyes wander the expression on your face, from your slightly parted crimson lips to the liquid pools of adoration that begged him to take the jump.

so he did.

he leans down, hands resting below your ears as he gently caresses your cheek before he rushes in to press his lips against yours. it’s delicate and soft with a tinge of inexperience, but it didn’t matter. a wave of warmth washes over you, and soon your arms find their way around his neck to deepen the kiss, leaving no space between your bodies.

ushijima’s lips feel like a dream, and as they connect, electricity rushes through your body, making you feel as if you could short circuit right there and then. breathlessly, you two pull away from each other.

with foreheads still resting on each other, “maybe i’m falling for you too,” ushijima whispers, a grin etched across his face.

your eyes widen, looking down at his swollen lips, your hands rummage through your purse for a napkin. “oh no, ushi, your lips are all red from my lipstick.” you laugh.

“i don’t mind,” ushijima states, his arm wrapping around your waist to pull you in once again.

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu writing #haikyuu!!#haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #anime imagines #ushijima #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima scenarios #ushijima imagine #ushijima fluff #ushijima x you #ushijima x y/n

62 notes · View notes

defsoulstation · 4 years

Text

Sweet Like Sugar|Part 3(END)|Jungkook|

Summary: You finally see him again after weeks of silence. Warnings: Light angst. Word count:1725 Authors Note: Sorry that this took so long, I haven’t been feeling very motivated these last couple of months and anytime i looked at this it frustrated me. I tried to make smut for this chapter but it just wasn’t coming together in the way I wanted. Maybe later down the line i’ll do it but for now this is what flowed the best for me. I hope you guys enjoy this conclusion! I have some ideas for the other boys and might be revisiting this AU in the future, but for now Kookie is where it ends.

Kookie <3: Would you be able to meet me at the cafe, we need to talk. The cafe, the 24 hour one you two would spend so much time in. Sitting in the back booth as the piano tones in the establishments speakers drone on. That text was the first time Jungkook had contacted you in weeks, the younger man going completely ghost. At first it was a relief, the initial situation overwhelming. As the days went by you did get a bit concerned, never seeing him behave that way before eyes wild, unhinged and before he left sick, and panicked. Lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice someone sitting across from you. Jungkook lightly taps your leg with his, smiling when you jump a little.”Hi.” Looking at him with surprise, you can’t help but return it.”Hi, Jungkook.” he frowns a bit, but keeps his head up.”So I have a lot of explaining to do.” His voice trails off. You nod, waiting patiently. He pauses for a substantial amount of time, gnawing at his lower lip. You take this time to actually look at him. Still winter time, he wears a fur lined jacket making his shoulders look wider than they are. His hair long and in a low ponytail to keep most of it out of his face. Now his face, your heart caves a bit, he looks tired and worn.Under eyes looking slightly bruised,his face a little sunken in, baby fat no longer decorating his cheeks. “Jungkookie.” You say, making him jump out of his thoughts.”Uh right.” he mumbles to himself. Looking into your eyes he starts.”I’m so sorry, regardless of my reasons, I shouldn’t have gone at you like that.” his lip trembles.” If you want to never see me again, I understand.” Staring at him, you dabble in your own thoughts before responding.” Thank you for the apology, maybe we can have some space, hang out in public places and go from there.” Jungkook nods enthusiastically.”Of course, yes, thank you for giving me another chance.” He sniffs, his eyes a bit glassy. You keep your gaze on him.”Now, can you tell me why you did that?” In no time flat, Jungkook’s face is lit aflame.”Uh well, um, it’s really embarrassing.” If you weren’t so curious you might’ve laughed but your brain was whirling trying to understand what made him lose his mind like that.” Embarrassing yes, but I deserve to know.” Jungkook nods.” You do.” he agrees, taking a deep breath. Jungkook looks around, making sure no one is paying attention before he starts speaking.”Um, well, You smelled really good like really really good.” You nod, not following. He huffs, frustrated.” I’m not good at explaining uh but I talked to my Alpha and he said it was because you were-” Jungkook pauses his ears tinged pink.” Well he said it’s because your body was wanting babies.” You blink.” You mean, I was ovulating?” He nods, the word ringing bells.” Yes exactly! Everything was so fuzzy and you smelled so sweet I couldn’t stop myself-”he babbles on before stopping, his face going pale.”Then I heard your voice and you looked so scared.” Jungkook’s voice cracks as his hands tremble.”I never want to see you like that because of me again.” You stare, the silence stretching on.”Oh.” He looks panicked.” Again I’m so sorry, I should be able to control myself better. I’m going to, I’m learning, my Alpha has been teaching me some things to help with control and focus.” You nod, taking all of the information in. It’s a bit overwhelming but better than thinking he intentionally meant to hurt you. After a prolonged silence, Jungkook starts jostling his leg, you look over to him again.”You wanna walk around the park?” He sighs in relief.”Please?” You waste no time making your way to the park, the chill in the air helping clear your head. Passing the grocery store on the way the two of you bump into a man, looking up you see that he’s wide shouldered and fairly handsome.Looking at you, he smiles.”Oop, sorry, wasn’t looking where I was-” The stranger stops mid sentence looking at Jungkook with surprise.”Kookie!?” Jungkook stops mid step, his face scrunching.”Oh no.” The stranger raised a perfect brow.”Oh no? That’s not a good way to address your brother.” Blinking you respond before Jungkook.”Brother?” Jungkook nods.”Kind of, he’s my packmate. Hi Jin.” The man mentioned, Jin, scoffs.”Please I raised you pup, I’m your brother.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, smiling a bit.” Yeah, yeah.” Jin rolls his eyes, a small smile matching the pup’s.”Uh huh, punk. Anyways,” He looks over to you.” Is this the girl you talk about all the time, the one you have a crush on?” Jungkook's eyes widen, while your face feels hot. “Oh my god.” Jungkook groans.”Can you shut up?” Jin laughs at the reaction, it’s tone high pitched yet charming.” What? Didn’t want her to hear that?” The older man’s cheeks are tinged with a jolly pink as Jungkook tries to get him to be quiet.You blink.” You talk about me that much?” Jungkook freezes in place, looking at you with wide eyes as a blush blooms like blossoms. Jin takes this moment to talk again.”Oh my god, that’s all he does. Noona likes this, Noona likes that, Oh did you know that Noona knows this? Oh wah, Noona is so mature and talented.” Jin babbles on, tone mocking the pup. Snapping out of it, Jungkook quickly puts Jin in a chokehold.”That’s it, go home, I’m sick of your face!” He yells as Jin laughs again.”Okay, okay, I’ll leave you two here, alone, with no supervision.” Jungkook yells, trying to kick him as Jin runs.”Quit being a wimp and pop the question Junkookie!” Jin gives a final yell as he runs off to wherever he’s going. Jungkook looks fairly frazzled as you laugh at him.” Oh c’mon not you too.” He whines as you catch your breath.”He’s funny.” Jungkook rolls his eyes.”Yeah funny,sure that’s what that was.” You two match in step, continuing your walk. Tilting your head,you smile.”Handsome too.” Jungkook swings around facing you.”No, no he’s not. The man is ugly, hideous, you’re delusional.” His outraged reaction makes you giggle a bit.”Oh? So I can’t find him handsome.” The pup shakes his head.”No of course not, not when I-” he stops, suddenly not looking in your direction as he covers his face. You approach him, hands on his as you try to uncover his face.”Not when you?” You trail off, letting him finish his own sentence.”Not when I like you so much.” He finally says in a whisper, silently praying that you hear it yet don’t at the same time. Time feels like it freezes just a moment as you slowly bring his hands down, his face pink not from the cold, but from his confession. Jin picked on him for it but it just sounded like just that, an older brother picking on the younger. Looking at Jungkook now though, face red and eyes so wide and scared at how you react, really has put this in perspective for you. The thing is, you never really thought about how you felt about Jungkook. Jungkook is something, someone, you needed. You were new to this town ages ago, only moving because of job opportunities. You focused on work so much that you never had time to even make friends. This smelly wolf boy crashed into your life, never left, and made this seemingly empty town feel like home. He makes coming home feel worthwhile, less empty. You can feel your heart start to beat fast, maybe there is more to this than you thought. His stare never wavered, even as you sort through your emotions. “Please say something, anything.” he whispers, leg jostling again. You suddenly feel a bit anxious,but push through.” I think I have some feelings for you too, Kookie.” the admission of your feelings makes you almost want to dig a hole and hide. You’re not used to feeling so open. You gasp as you are suddenly picked up and twirled around, Jungkook’s laughter filling the air.” Really?! This isn’t a joke?” he asks, starting to stop spinning and looking into your eyes again. You give a small smile.”Not a joke, you kind of wormed your way into my feelings.” He smiles wide, canines prominent as his eyes twinkle.” I’m, I'm so happy.” He laughs, his happiness is contagious as you start to laugh with him. After a few moments there’s a silence, but it's comfortable, the two of you smiling.A cold shiver rolls down your spine, you forgot how cold it was. Jungkook, looks at you in surprise.”Oh, I forgot that you can get cold. Let's go get something to eat, my treat.” He grins. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A month passes like a whirlwind, getting to know Jungkook in a more intimate manner. Numerous dates, lazy days and even walking around the park has let you see another side of him. At one point you even got to meet most of the boys, them dropping by your apartment while Jungkook visited. Jin, quite the joker but has a caring side to him. Namjoon, gentle, calm, very insightful, but a tad shy. Jimin, a bit rowdy but means well, him a Jungkook scuffle a lot. The only ones you haven't met are Hoseok, Yoongi and Taehyung. He says Yoongi and Hoseok left for college a few towns over, he’s a bit quiet when talking about the duo. With Taehyung he says that he’s not too comfortable with interacting with humans, but wouldn’t say why. Jungkook says if Taehyung met you he would love you, he just needs time. “Noona!” Jungkook jostles you out of your thoughts, smiling up at you from your lap where he’s made himself comfy. Giving him a warm smile you run your hands through his hair, him making a sound of approval. Regardless of your differences, struggles you guys deal with in this unconventional relationship, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. You and your sweet wolf boy.

#Sweet baby kook #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #werewolf!jungkook #bts fanfic #bts x reader #supernatural!jungkook

115 notes · View notes

vikingpoteto · 4 years

Text

Red Robin under the spotlight

Read on AO3

______________________

Relationships: GEN. Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake

Summary: Red Robin and Red hood are basically urban legends, no one is sure they're real. That is, until there is a picture of the two of them grinning at each other on Gotham Gazette's front page.

________________________

Tim Drake is having… a day.

Stuck in his office for the afternoon, he is praying for nightime to come soon so he can put on his suit and vent his frustration by beating up some unsuspecting criminal. He’d known being a CEO wasn’t particularly fun, but he didn’t expect the board of directors to be babies for so long.

He skims his proposal for what feels like the hundredth time unsure of how to make it clearer that that is the best course of action for their investments. The fact that he is only 18 should not trump his very solid, data-based arguments.

So he’s already in a bad mood and praying for a distraction when his office door swings open and Tam Fox storms in.

“Timothy!” she shouts.

He feels like he's about to learn he should be careful with what he wishes.

“Hey, Tam, I missed you too?” He tries.

Behind her, his secretary makes a helpless gesture as if trying to communicate she tried to stop Tam. Tim gives the woman a tired smile and makes a dismissive gesture.

Ignoring that, Tam slams the door closed and repeats for emphasis: “Timothy.” She pushes an iPad into Tim’s chest. “What is the meaning of this?”

Raising an eyebrow, he takes the iPad and looks at the screen, noticing he’s staring at a Gotham Gazette article and… Tim’s heart stops.

The headline screaming at his face says RED DYNAMIC DUO? by Vicki Vale and beneath it…

“Oh god,” Tim whimpers.

Beneath the headline there’s a picture of him and the Red Hood.

Or, well, Red Robin and Red Hood. They’re sitting on the fire escape of one of the abandoned buildings in Jason’s territory and both are seemingly at ease. Too at ease. There are two BatBurger bags at their side and their fingers are intertwined. Red Robin is staring at their joined hands with a wide smile. Fucking hell. Tim always makes a point of never smiling in front of anyone when he’s in his suit, he has a reputation to protect. He doesn’t know if it’s better or worse that Red Hood isn’t wearing his helmet, because it emans his open grin is visible as well - and thank god Jason has the habit of wearing a domino under his helmet.

Who the hell took that picture? How the hell did they go unnoticed by both Tim and Jason?

He then starts reading the article, every word feeling like a punch to the gut.

Gotham City has seen its share of vigilantes over the years and, unlike public figures such as Superman, they prefer to keep to themselves, making many people wonder whether they’re even human. As a shot captured by an amateur photographer that chose to remain anonymous, we find out at least a pair of the many Gotham “heroes” are closer to us than we thought.

The vigilante known as Red Robin Gotham's patheon of heroes a couple of months ago and little is known about him. He’s been seen working with the likes of Batman, Robin and even Batgirl, making us all think he’s one of the good guys. It seems like Red Robin’s circle of friendships doesn’t include only Justice League members, though.

The Red Hood, the man so tenderly smiling at Red Robin, is a notorious mob boss whose territory's size, GCPD especulates, rivals Black Mask’s. Red Hood wanders between both criminal activities and a violent brand of justice and, while he's been seen working side-by-side with heroes like Nightwing, a hero that since has only been seen in Bludhaven, no one can claim to have seen the Red Hood so comfortable around one of the bats of Gotham

The two young men were pictured in a tender moment. Could this mean that Red Robin is straying towards villany? Is the Red Hood is considering changing his ways? Or, perhaps, are we facing a pair of starcrossed lovers, separated by different set of morals, but still unable to stay away from one another?

Tim makes an inhumane sound. The words star crossed lovers jump from the screen, burning his eyes and making him wish he was going over a dumb business proposal still.

“Well?” Tam demands. “What is that, Tim?”

“I don’t know, Tam,” he answers, his voice weak. “What on earth- How the hell… Oh, god .”

“Why were you hanging out with the Red Hood?”

“Stakeout,” Tim says simply.

“Why were you on a stakeout with the freaking Red Hood?”

At that, Tim recovers enough to feel a bit miffed. That’s the same tone she had last year when Tim was working with assassins and he gets offended on his brother’s behalf. Even if, you know, said brother had also been somewhat related to the assassins in question. In the past.

“Hey, Hood is not as bad as the news make him look. Sure, he’s not exactly clean, but he’s a valuable undercover agent and…”

Tam makes sounds of a woman whose white Valentino bag had liquid lipstick spilled in. “Does that mean you are dating the Red Hood?”

“What? NO!”

Tim pinches the bridge of his nose. God, what a mess.

“He’s my brother,” he says.

Tam looks like she goes through the 7 stages of grief in a very short time and, honestly, Tim feels for her. He likes Tam a lot. She is smart and strong and the poor girl has had to deal with so much since she and Tim became friends.

“Are you telling me… that Dick Grayson…”

“No, Dick’s not the Red Hood.”

She stares at the picture again and then at him. “This isn’t Duke or Damian, Tim.”

“You’re right. It’s a long story. I can’t tell you, though. I trust you but Hood’s identity isn’t my secret to share.”

Tam closes her eyes and breathes in and out slowly. After all the crap she had to deal as one of Red Robin’s friends, a stranged brother that happened to be a crime lord (an anti-hero, really) wasn’t that far fetched. She didn’t know much about the Drakes because Tim didn’t talked about them, so, for all she knows, Red Hood could be Jack’s or Janet’s bastard child. Although Tim can figure her theories, he doesn’t try to explain anything. Whatever she works out is better than letting her know Red Hood is Bruce Wayne’s son brought back from the dead.

“Fine. You’re not dating a criminal. You’re a criminal’s brother.”

“I mean… if you think about it, I’m a criminal too.” He smiles sheepishly under her glare. “Being a vigilante isn’t exactly something I can put on my resume.”

Shaking her head, Tam checks the picture again. “What were you even doing? Because it looks like you’re holding hands and finding it hilarious.”

“We… hm. We were thumb wrestling.”

She stares at him, her expression empty of any emotion. Tim cringes.

“Look, not everything is death traps and high risks, alright? Sometimes stakeouts get boring!”

“You were laughing your head off because you were having a thumb war with the Red Hood,” Tam deadpans.

“Hm. Actually the thumb war wasn't that funny, that was him cheating. I was winning so he kept talking shit about Dick’s past to make me laugh and lose focus.”

Tam finally sits down and she looks at ceiling as if she’s considering all the life decisions that lead her to this moment. At this point, Tim knows she’s just being dramatic, because knowing Red Hood cheats at thumb war for certain isn’t more shocking than the time she met Tim.

“The thumb was isn’t important now, though,” Tim says. “ This is a huge problem. Hood’s gonna be in hot water if people think he’s friends with a hero.”

He refuses to use the word lovers, because ew. Sure they’re not related by blood, but… ew. Tim sees him as a brother, damn it.

“Well, I’m afraid there’s not a lot we can do now,” Tam says apologetically. “The article’s been up since this morning. Even if we have them take it down, it’s already out there. #RedDynamicDuo is trending on Twitter.”

Oof. That’s… oof.

Tim intertwines his fingers and glares at the tablet in front of him as if waiting for the puzzle to solve itself. He knows it won’t, so it’s up to him to fix this. His burnt out brain suggests calling Bart and asking him to run back in time and stop that cursed thumb war. His practical brain has half a mind to call Oracle and see how much online evidence she can get rid of. He has to contact Gotham Gazette and threaten them into not putting vigilante’s identities at risk by posting such pictures, although he doesn’t hold high hopes for that course of action. What he needs now is a bigger scandal, although he fails to think of something more dramatic than Red Robin and Red Hood being buddies…

Right as he’s starting to feel a bit forlorn, his phone buzzes on the table. A picture of Dick smiling flashes on the screen and Tim allows himself to perk up for a moment. Dick for sure will be able to help him.

“Dick!” He picks up, full of hope.

Tim is greeted with cackling. Dick’s cackling.

He groans. “Richard.”

“AHAHAHAHA O-oh god, you… aha... b-baby bird, you… HAHAHAHA--”

Tim isn’t paid enough for this. He hangs up.

“Can you help me with this?” He asks.

“Don’t I always?” Tam quirks an eyebrow.

Smiling tiredly, he stands. “I’m taking the rest of the afternoon off. Can you take care of… you know… day job stuff?”

“I guess. Good luck with your… your family thing.”

THE BIRDNEST

spoiler alert: *insert game of thrones joke here*

In the hood: Go fuck yourself, Stephanie

spoiler alert: not judging u bro he hella cute

WonderWing: steph please

cassandra cain-wayne: ?

send me a Signal: they’re talking about that picture of Hood and Red holding hands cass

yumm: were NOT holding hands

cassandra cain-wayne: I print that picture.

In the hood: W H Y ! ?

cassandra cain-wayne: cute :)

spoiler alert: she right and she should say it

In the hood: Steph, turn on your location. I just want to talk.

yumm: stephanie I hv pics of u sleep drooling on me from that that 1 patrol dnt test me

spoiler alert: shut up red dynamic duo

Tim hates the internet.

Barbara is kindly trying her best to muffle the online reaction, but there is only so much she can do without outright deleting people’s tweets. Tim knows for a fact that that would only cause a bigger uproar, so he asks her to settle for burying mentions of them under a fake algorithm.

He has yet to think of gossip hot enough to top the rumors, but he doesn’t think even his fake engagement to Tam last year received so much attention. A glimpse into Gotham’s elusive heroes’ personal lives was too exciting to let go quickly.

When he walks into his apartment, he wants nothing but to take a hot shower and a nap. He knows he can’t, though.

As well as he knows he isn’t alone.

He plays it cool, walking in as though he doesn’t notice the person in the shadows. He drops his keys and phone on the nearest table as he would normally and turns around too abruptly to allow a reaction, his fist connecting to… someone’s palm.

“Nice reflexes, Baby Bird,” Jason says, quirking an eyebrow as though mildly impressed.

Tim groans. “Would it kill you to use the door?”

“It might, better not risk it.”

“It shaves five years of my life span every time I come home and you’re waiting in the shadows. Of all of Bruce’s habits to pick up…”

Jason simply shrugs. “So… what’s up, honey? ”

“Ew, don’t say that,” Tim groans.

Keeping his nonchalant facade, Jason lets himself fall into Tim’s couch as though he belongs there. Tim heads to his room to change into more humane clothes.

“I’m assuming Dickie shared the news already,” Jason says.

“He couldn’t stop laughing long enough to say anything,” Tim replies from his closet. “Tam was kind enough to show me, though.”

“Tam… is that your ex-fiancée? Hmm… The news sure keep shipping you with everyone, speaking of which.”

Grumbling the whole time, Tim puts on a purple hoodie he might or might not have stolen from Stephanie and that he wears whenever he’s stressed. He wears that hoodie a lot. Heading back to the living room barefoot and feeling slightly more prepared to deal with the situation, he says:

“I’m assuming you aren’t here just to hang out.”

Jason gives him an unimpressed look. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

Tim blinks once. Twice. No, it can’t be that… “ Everyone thinks you’re a rat.”

“Bingo.”

And this situation keeps getting better and better. Red Hood is feared enough that he can get away with hanging out with the goody two shoes every now and again and keep his rep. Being caught eating burgers and giggling with a hero was a whole new animal.

They have to assume Hood’s safe houses were compromised as well. The point of having many hideouts is that you’re never left with nowhere to go, but even Jason wasn’t prepared to have everyone in his territory turn on him. That and they all had been raised and trained to be paranoid. It was too big of a risk to assume he’d be safe in a known place.

“Crap,” Tim mutters.

“I considered ditching Gotham and spending some time with Roy instead…”

“But that would be as good as a confession. You’d never gain their respect again,” Tim completes for him.

Jason nods.

The only silver-lining about this situation is that this is Jason. Granted he isn’t too angry to think, Jason is practical and willing to do what’s needed, even if it’s annoying or if it makes him uncomfortable. Tim likes working with him because of that.

“You know where the extra blankets are,” Tim says.

Because, of course, if Jason can’t be at his own place and he can’t be with Roy and Kory, he’d crash Tim’s place. The manor isn’t really an option for him and Tim doesn’t blame him for that.

“The plan of action?”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I figure out.”

Jason sighs. “I’m going to punch something in your Red Robin cave.”

“Be my guest.”

Damage control is necessary, of course, especially for Red Hood’s safety, but there is something bothering Tim more. He opens the news and studies the picture. It’s a damn good shot, almost looks like it was staged. He closes his eyes and tries to remember that night. In order to take that picture, the photographer would have to be in of of the buildings across the street and they’d have to be good enough to go unnoticed not by one, but by two highly trained vigilantes, one of which had his senses enhanced by the Lazarus pit.

He messages Babs quickly for more info on whoever sent those pictures to the news, but not even Oracle had managed to track them yet. It sounds like the photographer walked into Vicki Vale on the street and handed her the picture, because there was no digital footprint of such interaction.

Without any more ideas, he puts on his suit and heads out, glad that is patrol night. Perhaps punching criminals will give him some clarity.

Tim is nowhere near closing any of his cases and Gotham is unusually quiet because of course the criminals would choose tonight of all nights to be chill. The night Tim needs a crime. That’s why he’s more than a little thankful when a crackling sound in his comm lets him know someone’s trying to send him a message.

“Hey, hot stuff,” a familiar voice calls, “I have an underground gambling den to dismantle tonight, you want in?”

Red Robin smiles. “Is that a date?”

“I don’t know, is it? I don’t want Red Hood coming after me.”

“Batgirl.”

She laughs shamelessly. He hopes Barbara isn’t listening. Although the alternative would be Wendy listening, and he doesn’t know which one would be worse. Steph’s sense of humor isn’t for everyone and while, Tim doesn’t mind their inside jokes and got used to her eternal flirting, he feels as though those should remain between the two of them only.

“I’m serious, though,” Steph continues. “I don’t think backup is needed per se, but I miss fighting criminals with you. Plus I figured you could use a punching bag or two.”

He grins. He just really loves Steph.

“Send me the details. I’ll meet you there.”

Turns out it’s a pretty standard burst for them. Gambling den covering a massive drug operation, because this is Gotham. Why wouldn’t they use an illegal thing to cover another more illegal thing? That sounded like a great idea.

He finds Batgirl waiting for him on top of a building. She simply smiles and points at the shady alley down the street.

“Gentlemen first?” she offers.

“It’s your case.”

With a nod, she dives towards the ground and Red Robin follows her closely, frowning in confusion when she doesn’t dropkicks any windows. Instead, she casually strolls towards the back of the alley where a suspicious metal door that could easily go unnoticed if it didn’t scream CRIMINAL ACTIVITY HERE. Batgirl knocks at the door and gestures at Red Robin to stay away.

A slit on the door slides open and a confused crook tries unsuccessfully to see who’s there. With both vigilantes’ out of his line of sight, the poor bastard has no option other than opening the door to check. Batgirl swiftly pulls him into a headlock as soon as he walks into view and Red Robin’s grinning face is the last thing the man sees before the pressured applied makes him pass out.

Red Robin doesn’t figure what Steph’s plan is until she cuffs the unconscious bouncer and stands straight, offering her arm.

“You’re so dramatic.” He rolls his eyes, even as he takes it.

“Shush, you think I’m awesome.”

That he does. Especially when the two of them climb down into the basement turned illegal cassino with their arms locked as if they’re a couple. It’s cartoonishly comic how long it takes everyone to realize Red Robin and Batgirl are standing on the entrance, looking around at the 50 different illegal activities happening at once.

Not as comic as when Batgirl shouts over the music: “Please, don’t stop on our account!”

The gamblers sober enough to freeze in horror.

“Before we start, anyone wants to just give themselves in?” Red Robin offers.

That’s when guns start firing and all hell breaks loose.

The night ends, as it would, with Batgirl and Red Robin walking home a trio of strippers. The women weren’t to blame that their work environment was less than ideal and they certainly didn’t need to be left tied up waiting for the GCPD like the mobsters Steph and Tim beat up tonight.

Red Robin wanted to just watch them from the top ot the buildings and make sure they got home safe, but Batgirl insisted they walked alongside the women. Their costumes don’t look completely out of place near them and Red Robin doesn’t know what to think of that.

For a second, he thinks he hears someone behind them. Everytime he turns around, he finds nothing but an empty alley, so he shrugs if off as him getting hit tooo many times.

While Batgirl excitedly chats with two of the women about their future employment - one of them is in this line of work just to get by, the other genuinely enjoys sensual dancing as a form of art but wishes she could work somewhere better - when the third of them discreetly detaches herself from the group to walk closer to Red Robin.

She still looks tense and guarded, her arms tightly wrapped around herself and Tim wishes he had a jacket to offer her. The way she sideeyes him says she wants to say something, but is too nervous to start. Not wanting to betray his persona, he simply waits, trying to appear as non threatening as possible.

“Thanks a lot for savin’ us, Red Robin,” the woman says finally. “I can’t believe I’m meetin’ ya.”

He gives her a small smile. “I’m just glad you’re safe, ma’am, there’s no need to thank me.”

“I just wanted ta say… I get ya.”

Red Robin tilts his head to the side. “Ma’am?”

“The thing with your man. Must ta’ be hard dating the Red Hood. I know how it is.”

He was… He was getting sympathy from a stripper with bad taste in men.

“There’s nothing gross between Hood and I!” He lets out before he can help himself, his voice a little louder than intended.

The other women startle at his outburst and turn to him, wary. One of them reaches for what is clearly a pocket knife that she thinks is cleverly hidden in her bra.

He sighs. “I’m sorry, ma’am, just… Batgirl, I believe you’ve got things from here. I’m taking off.”

She gives him a concerned look, but ultimately nods. Under Batgirl’s and the three strippers perplexed glares, Red Robin grapples his way out of there.

Tim wakes up around noon feeling as though he was hit by a truck, as he does when he sleeps longer than three hours a night. He slowly sits up and looks around his messy room, wondering how come he’s feeling so miserable. The smell of food stirs him into some sort of alertness.

Right. He’s not home alone today.

Yawning and scratching his belly, he forces himself to get out of bed. He know that the longer he stays the more likely he is to slip into a coma, his body demanding compensation for years of sleep deprivation. Tim drags his feet towards his kitchen where he finds one of Gotham’s most dangerous vigilantes humming to himself as he makes breakfast. Or Lunch. Brunch. Whatever.

“And here I thought I was the family’s zombie,” Jason says in lieu of good morning.

Tim grumbles something about his brother being too comfortable in Tim’s kitchen, but he doesn’t dare complain. Jason is probably the only person that uses Tim’s stove and one of the perks of having him over is that he does cook. A lot.

The one disadvantage about having Jason over is…

A knife lodges itself on the counter in front of Tim when he tries to reach for the coffee pot. Tim didn’t even see him throwing it. He glares at his brother.

“Food first. Coffee after,” Jason says.

“I’m too nauseous to eat, I just woke up.”

Again without breaking eye contact with the pot he’s stirring, Jason blindly reaches for a package of crackers casually left on the counter and hands it to Tim.

Tim makes sure to give him his best rebellious teenager glare before grabbing the stupid crackers and sitting down to eat them. Stupid Jason with his stupid boredom. Tim had forgotten Jason goes into full mom mode when he has nothing else to do and that he’s particularly obnoxious about Tim’s eating habits.

“I consume the necessary calories,” Tim mumbles over his cracker.

“Okay, Damian.”

Tim throws a cracker at him. Jason easily dodges without looking, which is kind of annoying.

After that, the two brothers fall into comfortable silence. Tim knows Jason wants to talk about their plan of action, but he knows Tim is nowhere near awake enough to hold a conversation. Besides, Jason doesn’t like being bothered while he’s cooking anyway.

By the time the food is ready, the crackers worked their magic and Tim no longer feels as though his stomach is ready to puke out its emptiness. He grabs dishes he hadn’t used in quite a while and sets the table for the two of them. The brothers start eating in silence, Tim slowly recovering his sense of self - no wonder he goes for so long without sleeping, he takes too long to reboot when he does - and Jason mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

Then something on the small screen makes Jason choke on his food.

Tim quirks an eyebrow. “You okay?”

“Hm… Timmy, you may wanna take a look at this.”

“What?” Tim takes Jason’s phone. “Oh, for fuck’s sake !”

It’s another news article. The picture is fortunately less detailed, just a red and black silhouette against Gotham’s sky that may or may not be Red Robin standing over one of the many gargoyles. The text, however.

RED ROBIN MAKES HOMOPHOBIC REMARK AND SHOCKS ADMIRER

Gotham’s newest vigilante busted an underground gambling den last night. Despite his heroic deed, his words after the fact were less than commendable. When questioned about his relationship with the Red Hood by one of the women he rescued, the hero allegedly said that there’s “Nothing gross between him and Hood.”

“Personally, I was shocked,” said the woman in question, Krystal Math, 25 years old. “Red Robin became my favorite hero when I heard he also has a dead-beat boyfriend. I was starting to finally see myself in one of those bats, you know? I couldn’t believe when he said being gay is gross. Never meet your heroes, I guess.”

THE BIRDNEST

WonderWing sent a screenshot.

WonderWing: red robin is cancelled for homophobia, pass it on

Robin: Good. It’s about time we rid ourselves of him.

Cassandra Cain: Little brother does not approve gay rights? :(

yumm: im literally bisexual

spoiler alert: he avoiding the question

in the hood: #redrobinisoverparty

yumm: I hate this fucking family

Tim hasn’t stopped pacing around the room since he read the most recent article. Those were his exact words by the letter, meaning someone had been listening. He doubts Krystal, bless her heart, was the one going to the news with his “homophobic remark”.

Having basically given up on getting Tim to calm down, Jason is the one to get the porch door open for Steph. Because apparently she’s been learning from Jason and acquired his hatred for front doors. Steph knows how Tim gets, so she promptly ignores him and gets comfortable on the reading chair to check the article fully.

“This is nuts,” Steph says. “We were being careful. I made sure of it.”

Tim believes her. Batman and Robin are basically public figures at this point, even if they don’t interact with civilians if they can help it. Red Robin and the Signal were heard of and spotted around the city, but not a lot of people really know of them. Red Hood was basically a urban legend until recently and Black Bat sill is. Batgirl, however, is known for being a people hero.

She was, back in Barbara’s time, stopped for a bit with Cass, but Steph embraced the old tradition whole heartedly. She would walk people home late at night to make sure they were safe, wave at little girls in the bus, talk to kidnapping victims until they were under heavy blankets handed by the police. Steph was extroverted and charming and she used that fully as Batgirl like she never could as Spoiler. That being said, she and Barbara always made a point to avoid pictures, security cameras and whatnot. If there was a hero good at hanging with civilians while unnoticed by the media, that hero was Stephanie Brown.

Tim’s phone is buzzing. He ignores it in favor of stomping around some more.

“Well, something must have slipped your watchful eye,” Jason says, shrugging.

Steph glares at him. “Mine, perhaps, but are you implying someone went unnoticed by Oracle?”

“Well, someone obviously did,” Tim snaps, tossing his phone at the couch in frustration. “What happened after I left, Steph?”

“Nothing,” she says honestly. “I walked the ladies home. Krystal was a bit miffed but she didn’t say anything, so I thought she was just a shipper upset that her OTP wasn’t canon.”

“You think she went to the news after?” Jason suggests.

Steph frowns. “Why would she? She didn’t look like she had media connections exactly.”

Tim’s phone, that bounced off the couch and fell with a soft thud on the carpet, continues to explode with texts. He sighs and stops to pick it up and finally answer them.

“Appearances can be deceiving,” Jason argues. Then turns to Tim: “You should look into her. I’m gonna check other possible sources.”

“Hm-hum, just a second,” Tim mumbles, typing furiously. “Damian is being a nightmare and asking for help on a case.”

“Wack. Are you telling him to solve his own cases instead of using your intell to impress Bruce?”

Tim glares at Jason.

“Really? C’mon, Timmy, we’ve been over this.”

Stephanie gives them a puzzled look. “You’ve been over… Dami being a nightmare?”

“Jason says that whenever someone is mean to me I should reply by attacking them where hurts the most,” Tim explains.

“He knows all of our weaknesses and he has the quickest thinking,” Jason says, frustrated. “The least he should do is stand up for himself with that knowledge!”

"Kinda rich coming from the guy that tried to kill him," Steph says, quirking an eyebrow.

"Steph," Tim scowls. "He didn't know me then and the pit rage--"

"Timmy," Jason cuts him off.

Tim sighs. "Besides now I could off him in 20 different ways if he tried any of that shit again. There. Happy, Jason?"

"That's my baby brother."

Steph smiles at him. “You know what? You’re onto something, Jaybird.”

Tim interrupts his walk of worry again to smile a bit. Something about Stephanie and Jason agreeing on something is immensely satisfying.

Still, on the matter at hand, Tim says, “If I go off on Damian, Dick’s gonna get mad…”

“Then go off on Dick as well,” Steph promptly suggests.

Jason high-fives her. “Atta girl. Besides if Dick doesn’t want us to tell Damian to fuck off he has to work harder on teaching him not to be a little shit. Everyone here has a tragic backstory here and we all know Damian goes too far sometimes.”

Tim shakes his head again. “Regardless, Damian’s case will have to wait. We’re gonna go with your plan, Jay. And Steph…”

“Wow, no way, José. I’m just here as an eyewitness. I don’t want to get involved with homophobes and end up shipped with Jason or some shit.”

Tim glares at her. “I was going to offer you some of our leftovers, but since you’re not interested, that’s fine.”

While Jason laughs and Steph protests, he proceeds to look for his laptop, hoping this isn’t going to be a dead end.

“This is a dead end,” Tim declares.

From what he can find, Krystal wasn’t even paid for her impromptu interview. Apparently Vicki Vale showed up at her place to confirm the veracity of a story that she heard God knows where.

Dick is in Bludhaven, but he insisted on facetiming them when he realized his brothers were struggling, even if he mostly just made worried faces from Tim’s phone as Tim, Jason and Steph exchanged notes. As a rule of thumb, Tim doesn’t involve his siblings in his cases since he became Red Robin, but this is definitely an all hands on deck situation. Tim isn’t desperate enough to get Bruce involved, but he’s getting there. Especially when Dick says:

“Babs couldn’t find anything in Vicki’s email or phone. She’s double checking all of Vicki's sources, but so far it’s been no good.”

“We could always get Vale and hang her by the ankles on top of some building until she talks,” Jason suggests. "Let's go old school on her."

Everyone ignores Jason. Tim stands for another mug of coffee. Dick lets out a frustrated sigh. Steph keeps watching all of them from the couch, where she’s been lying down and tossing gummy bears into her mouth for the past half-hour.

When no one acknowledges him, Jason sighs and stands. “Alright, this’ been fun. I’m going to patrol.”

Dick frowns. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“He can’t vanish,” Steph says. “One thing is crashing Tim’s place to make sure he won’t get ambushed in his down time. If Red Hood goes AWOL he might as well admit he’s working with the Batclan.”

Jason nods. “If I don’t do my job, next thing I know Black Mask takes over my stuff.”

“Can’t have Black Mask taking over his stuff,” Steph agrees.

Dick glances at Tim as though expecting him to disagree with the plan. Tim lets out a defeated sigh. “He’s right. Just… make sure to find a safe place to change into your gear so no one sees you. If there are any safe places, that is…”

Jason rolls his eyes. Tim knows he’s going full Robbie Downer mode, as Jason likes to call it, but he can’t help it. It’s not often that he finds himself without any ideas. He should have been able to solve this already. Since nothing comes to mind, he starts imagining unrealistic scenarios in hopes that they’ll give him some insight outside of the box. AU in which I was never shipped with my brother by some nosey reporter. AU in which I went out Damian instead of Jason that night.

Tim groans in frustration. “Why did it have to be Jason? We could get away with me having a thumb war with literally anyone. If it was Batman out there, this wouldn’t be that much of a problem.”

“Maybe if you hung out with all your brothers and not just Jason there wouldn’t be as many rumors about you and Red Hood,” Dick mumbles.

Tim glares at the phone.

“Really? You wanna go there? You wanna talk favoritism, Richard? Because you’ve been favoring Damian for-freaking-ever.”

“Drag him!” Jason cheers.

“Tim,” Dick says, looking genuinely upset, “I love all-”

“Save it,” Steph cuts in. “We all have favorites Dick, there is no use denying it.”

Because Dick’s eyebrows are knitted in confusion, Tim clarifies: “Bruce’s favorite is Cass, yours is Damian, Jason’s is… I don’t know, his guns. Steph is my favorite, unfortunately. Steph’s favorite is Cass, Cass’ favorite is Duke, Duke doesn’t have favorites, he’s the only good person in this family, and Damian’s is also you.”

Steph nods. “You did it! You broke the Bat Family dynamics to its bare essentials!”

“And that is why Tim is my favorite. After my guns,” Jason adds.

“Jason, we do not rate our siblings.”

“That’s why you’re in last place, Dick.”

Ignoring Dick’s enraged noises, Tim sets his mug aside. “I’m going patrolling, even if today isn't my turn. Solo this time. Hopefully Red Hood and Red Robin being separate out there will help the rumors die down a bit.”

No one has a better idea - Tim’s least favorite sentence - so that’s what they do.

It��s another infuriatingly quiet night.

Red Robin stops a couple of muggings, scares the crap out of some drug dealers. At some point, he considers contacting Poison Ivy and asking if she has any corrupt CEO she wants help with. He could, you know. It’d stop Ivy from killing someone and on his last run with Harley Quinn she did let slip that Tim was Ivy’s favorite Robin.

He almost falls mid swing at the memory, thinking he might be onto something, but then he remembers Harley hadn’t particularly recognized Red Robin as the third Robin. She was just ranting about how the new tiny Robin had no sense of humor and Ivy missed the last one. Besides of course Harley Quinn wasn’t feeding Vicki Vale some BatFanfic. Tim’s brain must be really burnt out if that’s the best hot take it can come up with.

It’s almost 3am and he’s taking a pair of muggers that can’t be much older than Tim to the police. He’s about ready to call if a night when someone shouts:

“Red Robin!”

He looks on instinct and his stomach drops when he sees Vicki Vale running towards him. Crap.

“Red Robin, can I get a statement?”

He keeps walking. He’s just one dirty alley away from GCPD, otherwise he’d just tie the stupid muggers to his back and would use his grappling hook to get out of the situation, grapple safety be damned. The muggers gingerly attempt to hide their faces as the reporter runs to them swinging a digital recorder. Vicki acts as though she can’t see them.

“Red Robin, what do you have to say about the rumors of your relationship with the Red Hood?”

The rumors you created? Red Robin quickens his pace and the muggers trip over themselves. He stares straight ahead, pretending he doesn’t notice the woman basically running in heels to keep up with him.

“Are you ashamed of it? Is it because he’s a criminal or because he’s a man?”

Red Robin wonders if the muggers would walk the rest of the way and turn themselves in if he asked nicely.

“Don’t bother, lady,” one of the muggers says. “He’s a nasty bigot.”

The other mugger nods and the two of them are wearing matching pouty expressions. Now Tim just feels bad. He didn’t become a hero for the recognition and he’s not in the business of doing PSAs like Superman, but he doesn’t want the strange socially woke criminal youth of Gotham to think they’re being arrested by a homophobe.

“I have no problem with two men in a relationship, I’m bisexual,” he tells the muggers. “Still, I’m not dating Red Hood. Just because I’m bi it doesn’t mean I’m dating every male vigilante I run into.”

At that, the two crooks look mildly surprised and suddenly they seem to feel a bit better about being arrested. Would you look at that.

Red Robin delivers them to the police, painfully aware that Vicki Vale is nowhere to be found anymore. He feels like he’s going to pay dearly for being too prideful to let himself be mistaken for a heterosexual person.

Lo and behold, Twitter, on that very same morning.

@Gotham_Gazette:

Red Robin hints that he might be bisexual. “No, I’m not dating the Red Hood, just because I’m bi it doesn’t mean I’m dating every male vigilante,” said the hero on the rumors about his relationship.

@dgraysonman hints??? he literally said he’s bi smh

@stephssss wow only the male vigilantes? biphobic. let red robin date batgirl too

@babsgeez be gay do crime, be bi serve justice

@thomascommaduke no cops at pride, only Red Robin using a bi flag as cape.

“Timmy…” Jason starts.

“Don’t. Just leave me alone to die.”

“That’s fair, have a nice day.”

At this point, Tim is surprised Bruce hasn’t intervened. As unaware of social media as Bruce can be, he’s always on the look for anything that might compromise their secret identities. Tim pulls two all-nighters in a row doing detective work and still makes no progress on his search for the person that sent Vicki that picture and overheard his conversation with Krystal. He fully expects Batman to jump him on his next patrol and give him a lecture.

When he comments that to Jason, he gets a confused look in response.

“You didn’t get a lecture? Bruce was the one that told me first. I had to hear about being careless for 20 minutes before I got home and could take off my comm.”

Tim frowns in confusion. Bruce had talked to him once or twice after the news got out and he didn’t comment anything on it.

“That’s Batman’s psychological profiling,” someone suggests.

Tim almost jumps out of his skin when Steph casually walks into the living room with a bowl of chips.

“What are you doing here? And are those my clothes?”

Steph shrugs in the sweater that clearly doesn’t belong to her. “Jason and I are doing movie night.”

“Movie night,” Jason mocks. “She’s been here for the past two days. Did you seriously not notice, Tim?”

Tim’s jaw drops.

Steph sighs and her expression turns guilty. “Fine. My mom is out of town for the week and Jason is a better cook than I am. Is it a crime to bum off your ex-boyfriend and his bizarrely talented in the kitchen brother?”

Before Tim can say anything, Jason interrupts: “What were you saying about Batman, Steph?”

She heads to the couch and starts looking for the remote, her feet propped on the coffee table. “B knows Jay will just shrug it off and deal with the consequences, hence the need of a lecture. If he annoys Jason, he’ll stop and reflect on it, even if out of rage. He knows Tim’s already overthinking and working his butt off to fix it, so he doesn’t want to add any pressure.”

Both Jason and Tim stand in dumbfounded silence. Since when does Steph know Bruce so well?

She raises her gaze when the quietness stretches and quirks an eyebrow at them. “What? Am I wrong?”

“Hm. No. That’s pretty much what we’ve been doing,” Jason admits, if a big begrudgingly. “That’s annoying though.”

Steph simply makes a dismissive gesture and pats the sit beside her. “Tim, you need a break. Wanna join us?”

Tim hesitates. On one hand, the fact that Bruce trusts him that much is a tad touching… and knowing it makes him feel he has to solve this as soon as possible. On another… it’s kind of annoying that Bruce knows him so well and yet doesn’t think about offering any assistance. Tim is not stubborn enough to refuse a helping hand when he’s on a pinch.

“You’re not going to solve anything if you’re hallucinating from sleep deprivation, Timbers,” Jason points. “Besides we’re watching Avatar.”

“Fine,” Tim says.

If for nothing else, just to prove to Bruce that he’s not an overworker and he can slack off in the absence of a parental figure.

Tim falls asleep in the middle of the second episode. Steph and Jason vow to take him to bed once they’re sure he’s completely out, but they only last until the end of the first season. The three sleep soundly on the couch for good eight hours and regret dearly when they wake up with necks too sore to fight crime for at least a day.

Consequences. They always come.

Almost a week goes by in which the rumors are but an annoyance to Jason and a source of stress to Tim - but almost anything can stress Tim if he tries hard enough, so that’s not saying anything. Jason is still staying at Tim’s, but he’s considering going back to his own place when they go for three days with no new article and nothing unusual has happened.

Until it does.

It’ a rainy night Tim is going over reports for the next WE meeting when he hears a noise coming from the balcony. His stomach gives a familiar twist when he recognizes Batgirl hunched over the weight of one Red Hood.

He rushes to her aid, already feeling nauseous. There’s no blood in sight but whatever happened must be serious if Jason is willing to let Batgirl give him a piggyback ride. Tim lets them drip water all over the floor and, in his panic, has half a mind to appreciate that Batgirl’s boots have enough traction that she doesn’t slip.

“What on Earth…”

“The most ridiculous thing,” Steph bables as she and Tim drag a very dizzy Jason to the couch. She then starts ranting so fast Bart Allen would be proud. “He was doing his thing as usual, but some of his people turned on him and there was an ambush and so many flipping people against one poor Hood and good god that guy shot his helmet at point-blank which, damn , that was so stupid, of course the freaking helmet is bullet proof, it just ricocheted and…”

“Steph, calm down,” Tim interrupts. “Jason, can you report?”

When he gingerly attempts to take off his helmet, Steph takes over and undoes the safety measures before carefully removing it. There is a dent on the back part where he had been presumably shot.

“Hm,” Jason grunts, squinting even behind his domino mask. “Ambush. Shot. Concussion. Very concussion. Ankle hurts? Prolly not broken, tho. Also stabbed?”

Tim nods. “Steph, get the medical supplies. Where’s the stab wound, Jay?”

Jason points to his thigh and there is an improvised bandage keeping him from losing too much blood. Considering how well done it is, Tim figures it’s Steph’s work. He nods and starts checking his brother’s vitals and making sure there aren’t other serious wounds.

When she comes back with the supplies Tim needs, Steph has her cowl down and a somber expression. She turns off the lights for Jason’s sake, the only source of light left on being the lamp near where Tim is already ripping off a piece of Jason’s pants to have better access to his wound. Steph sits by Jason’s side and grabs his hand, much to Tim’s surprise. He’s too busy taking care of the stab wound to ask, but he doesn’t have to. Steph breaks the silence:

“I’m so sorry, Jason.”

Jason gives her a confused look. “You saved my ass?”

“Yes, but…” Steph sighs and turns to Tim. “Babs is with the Birds of Prey tonight, so I was on my own. I was messing around with my comm frequency when I accidentally got into Jason’s. I heard the mess and it sounded like he was in trouble so I panicked. I went to get him and… Well, if there was any doubt that he’s working with the Bats, there isn’t now. It was too obvious that I was protecting him.”

Jason squeezes her hand. “Hm. Pigs.”

“Right. Then the police arrived and instead of leaving right away I stopped to make sure Jason wasn’t bleeding to death. More than a few cops saw me patching him up.”

Tim sighs. Well, shit.

“It’s not your fault, Steph,” Tim says. “I mean… he literally wears a bat on his chest. People were bound to find out it isn’t just to stick it to Batman.”

“Is too,” Jason mumbles.

Tim ignores him. “The situation isn’t ideal, but we all prefer people knowing Red Hood is associated with the Bats than him being dead.”

“I died before.”

“We know, Jay.”

“Do not recommend.”

“We know, Jay.”

Steph fidgets a bit, still looking guilty, but ultimately nods. Tim is about to start stitching Jason’s wound closed when she says: “There’s more. You, hm, you know Renee Montoya?”

“The one valid pig,” Jason says. “I like her.”

“She was there. She helped a ton keep the other cops away from us before we could escape,” Steph says. “I think she wanted to check on Jason and…”

Tim stops moving. He knows Montoya, worked with her before and she’s a nice woman. That being said, she doesn’t have any connections to Hood. Why would she… Oh. The gay rumors. Damn wlw/mlm solidarity.

“What happened?” Tim asks, already fearing the worst.

“Hmmm, we’ll tell you, but I’m concussed, so you have to promise you won’t be mad.”

“Jason.”

Jason sighs. “Well. She asked about our relationship and… Hm. I might have told her we’re brothers.”

Tim stares at them. Steph is cringing and Jason is too out of it to care. At this point… Tim starts laughing, making the other two - even the concussed one - frown in worry.

“Aw, man,” Tim says between chuckles. “What the fuck, am I right? I’m too old for this. Who cares? Not me! Fuck it. Fuckety fuck fucky-fuck.”

“I think we broke him,” Steph whispers even as Tim resumes stitching his brother.

They went from not-sure-if-real to a freaking cop knowing about their family in the span of a week. Tomorrow #TimDrakeIsRedRobin could be trending on Twitter and Tim wouldn’t care. Not anymore. Let them come.Literally everyone in his friend circle is a vigilante, a hero or a criminal at this point, he doesn’t even care about endangering anyone.

It takes actually two days for it to hit the news. He’s alone in his office when Tam texts him a link to Gotham Gazette online. Judging by the lack of other words, Tim figures she’s cutting ties with him again.

The newest article has no actual pictures, but a sketch of Red Hood standing with his guns pointed at the viewer and Red Robin standing behind him, his face only partially turned. The thing looks more like superhero fanart than an official sketch, but that never stopped Vicki Vale before.

VIGILANTE FAMILY? by Vicki Vale

Red Robin, one of Gotham’s many masked vigilantes, was cause of intrigue recently. Many people noticed the hero doing his work around Red Hood’s territory, something not even Batman dares on the regular. Speculation turned into a craze of theories when both red-themed vigilantes were caught sitting on a roof sharing a meal from Batburger and many thought perhaps there was more than your regular vigilante team up.

Turns out the hero and the mob boss aren’t lovers, against popular belief. When questioned about the nature of their relationship, Red Hood snapped and confirmed one of the less popular theories: the two men are, in fact, related. “Red is right and he should say it,” said Red Hood to a bewildered policewoman. “Of course he’d say it’s [REDACTED] gross, he’s my little brother.” When asked about the conversation overheard by our reporter, the policewoman in question refused to give any more details and requested to remain anonymous.

It’s hard to be sure how such development came to be. The Red Hood has been active in Gotham for years as a mob boss and, more recently, a vigilante and ally to Gotham’s bats. While Red Robin is a newer vigilante, could it be that he was trained by the Red Hood? And how do the two brothers fit with Gotham’s oldest vigilantes? Unlike his older counterpart, Red Robin has been often spotted working side-by-side with the likes of Batgirl and Robin, making some question whether Red Robin is distancing himself from his criminal brother. However, sources spotted Hood being aided by Batgirl more recently. Could it be that his former sidekick is bringing Red Hood closer to the side of justice? More on the Red Twins as the story develops.

THE BIRDNEST

spoiler alert: RED TWINS

WonderWing: R E D T W I N S

send me a Signal: ~ * R E D T W I N S * ~

in the hood: uhhhh my bad?

yumm: dis is great

yumm: now im hoods stranged sidekick

yumm: i fucking hate u jason.

in the hood: hey, if you didn't want to be my sidekick you should've picked another color

yumm: screw u u dont own the color red

in the hood: I was born first

yumm: u died first 2

WonderWing: Tim!

spoiler alert: oof

send me a Signal: wow Tim that was too far

in the hood: I’ve never been prouder to be your brother I taught you so well Timmy

send me a Signal: … I stand corrected. I sometimes forget everyone in this family is clinically insane

“Hey Tim. There is discourse about you and Jason now.”

Tim lets out a whimper.

“So apparently some people still ship you two. But those people are being cancelled because shipping incest is problematic.”

“Steph, are you planning on going home? I noticed you took one of my drawers.”

“There’s fanart of you two.”

“I don’t want to see it. That'll scar me for life."

“I’m DMing it to you. By the way there is civilian Red Robin fanart and for some reason they made you blonde.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I guess it’s more fun to ship people with different hair colors. Should we dye your hair?”

“Why.”

“That way when you finally hook up with Co-”

“Finish that sentence and I kick you out of this apartment for good.”

With the cat out of the bag, they start doing different damage control.

Red Hood is now openly working with the Bats, so Steph and Cass dismantle Hood’s former safehouses around Gotham which mostly means getting Jason’s books and bringing them to Tim’s place. Jason suggests the places should be converted into something useful for the neighborhood, such as libraries or a community center of sorts, so Tim starts working on what needs to be done by WE to make that reality. Tim also makes sure Bruce pretends not to know Jason is using a lot of money illegally acquired to getting himself new hideouts.

They dance around the topic a lot and nothing is really said until Steph brings it up. Steph, whose mother returned days ago. Steph, that definitely doesn’t want Jason to leave, because apparently she suddenly has a new favorite ex-Robin. Steph, that is currently eating homemade waffles in Tim’s kitchen, even though Tim is 83% sure she didn’t sleep over last night.

“Why doesn’t Jason just moves in?” she asks.

When neither boy replies immediately, she continues:

“I mean, it’s more practical, isn’t it? Tim’s place is already secure, he has a hero hideout downstairs and you two already work together all the damn time. Tim’s office can be converted into a room for Jason, because, let’s face it, I spend most of my free time here and Tim never uses it. I once saw him take his laptop with him to the bathroom and then return to the kitchen table instead of using the office. We wouldn’t even have to take the shelves, because Jason would fill them.”

They exchange a look.

“You know, she’s right,” Tim says. He shrugs like it’s no big deal, really.

He isn’t nervous at all while Jason stands there, his expression unreadable. It’s not like he enjoys way too much having his brother around and got way too comfortable with having a roommate and a half (if you count Steph) on the past weeks. Tim doesn’t care, he’s cool like that.

“I mean. I guess having you as a roommate beats living alone,” Jason finally says.

Tim fails to hide his grin. “We can start working in turning the office into a room this weekend.”

Jason smiles back and messes his hair.

Tim’s first theory is that Steph wants Jason off the couch so she has an official place to sleep, because apparently Jason’s cooking is that good.

His second theory is that she noticed how happy Tim is to finally share a house with family. The Wayne Manor had been home for a while, sure, but despite Alfred’s best efforts the place wasn’t the coziest. It wasn’t the same as sharing an apartment with a brother, bickering about sharing chores and openly discussing their night jobs before shifting the conversation to a video game they want to buy. Sharing actual meals and making sure one another wouldn’t end up dead in a ditch.

Tim decides to stick with his first theory, after all it’s easier for Steph to make Red Twins jokes if Jason and Tim are under the same roof.

Even without new gossip, the idea of vigilante brothers is too interesting for the general public to let go. Tim and Jason start acting mostly in the shadows and having no interaction with civilians at all and they’re still the topic of Gotham’s variety shows and online discussions from time to time.

Because they don’t slip again, Bruce has yet to bring up the subject with Tim, but the mystery remains. Who listened to all those conversations and how? Tim keeps expecting the other shoe to drop, to get a message demanding ransom for their secret identities, something, anything , but nothing happens. Nothing freaking happens and he’s never been this frustrated.

That is, until, it happens. The ultimate betrayal.

Dick’s next visit coincides with the time Cass is over for the week. Because Bruce is secretly a sap in the wrongest way, he suggests they all go patrolling together. Such great family time.

Despite their initial protests, they must all be the same kind of freak, because they all agree. They split up soon to cover more ground, but keep their comms on so it still feels they’re all in a big menacing group.

Red Robin is somewhere near the crime alley when Nightwing announces he noticed some of Two Face’s goons getting into a building. He checks his wrist pad for their locations and notices Nightwing isn’t that far from where he is. The next closest person is Red Hood.

“I’ll take care of it,” Nightwing says over the comms.

“Negative. Two Face himself might be there,” Batman intervenes. “Wait for backup. The Red Twins--” And he stops himself as though realizing what he’s saying.

“Batman!?” Red Robin gasps in a betrayed voice.

Nightwing is already having a laughter fit over the comms almost drowning the sound of Bruce’s disappointed sigh.

“I’m sorry, Red,” his father says and he even forgets to use Batman’s scary voice. “Nightwing and Batgirl have been saying it so much that-”

“Save it,” Hood groans. “And stop laughing, Jerkwing!”

The worst part is knowing that, even if he solves the mystery, the Red Twins thing is probably going to follow him to his untimely death.

Tim all but lost hope when he gets an email from Barbara. “To my favorite Red Twin” says the subject. He groans, but opens the email, because one does not simply ignore a message from Oracle. Then he almost drops his phone.

Attached there is a grainy picture of a young woman talking to Vicki Vale. The image had certainly been enhanced digitally as it’s probably from a shitty security camera, but you can still see the woman’s face clear as day. She looks like she’s handing Vicki something, her shoulders tense and her expression wary. The body of the message is, most likely, the woman’s personal info. Her name is Lisa Harris. She is 27 years old. She lives somewhat close to Jason’s territory. And, most importantly, Babs added to the end of the message:

The picture is from the night before the Red Twins article ;) Vicki didn’t talk to anyone other than her coworkers and our pal Lisa on that night.

Jason comes out of his room when Tim trips on the coffee table in his hurry to stand. “What’s up?”

Tim hands him the phone. Jason’s eyes grow wide. “I don’t care about subtlety. We’re both going after this chick.”

“Agreed.”

“Should we wait for Steph? She’s gonna be mad that we went when she’s in class.”

“Jason, Steph doesn’t live here.”

“Doesn’t she, though?”

“We’re not waiting for Steph. She’s not involved.”

“Aight, but when she’s bitching I’m gonna say I remembered her and you said no.”

They leave their bikes behind first for stealth sake, but mostly because the place they’re going isn’t that far from their place. Tim shivers at the thought of someone so dangerous living near him. He wonders what kind of information Lisa might have gathered and for how long she’d been watching them. Is she a new enemy? Perhaps a member of the league?

The shitty building she lives in doesn’t suggest that. It’s just another grimy Gotham apartment complex that didn’t age well. The place they’re looking for doesn’t have a balcony, only a useless fire escape so rusty it would probably crumble under any sign of flames. It’s a perfect hiding spot, because nothing suggests a villain lives there. It’s just a building, home to many underpaid bachelors, nothing too suspicious about it.

Red Robin reminds Hood of that before they nod to each other and split. Jason goes into the building with a ton of confidence, for such a big guy trying to go unnoticed. Tim uses his grapple to reach the right window, not trusting that fire escape for even a second.

The window is open and he finds himself looking at a place not that different from the one Jason lived before moving in with Tim. Mismatched furniture of the living suggests whoever lives there didn’t have money for fancy decor or that they don’t mind how the place looks. However, something about the place looks… well, lived in. It doesn’t look like a criminal temporary hideout, but rather someone’s place.

As he hesitates, a woman walks in. The woman of the picture, Lisa Harris. Her long blonde hair had been tied in a knot on top of her head and she’s getting ready for bed, if her oversized T-shirt and pajama pants say anything. She’s holding a bowl of cereal.

She reminds him of Steph and that causes him to hesitate for a second. What if this girl is innocent? Their evidence is circumstantial. Maybe she just happened to talk to Vicki Vale at the wrong time.

That hesitation costs him dearly. The woman appears to feel his eyes burning the back of her head. She glances at the window and their gazes meet.

Crap.

Lisa inhales sharply and drops her cereal bowl. Before he can reassure her of anything, she’s bolting for the door. He pats himself in the back for his backup plan, because just as she opens the door she runs right into Red Hood’s chest. Lisa stumbles backwards, her expression horrified.

“Knock knock?” Hood quips.

She lets out a squeak and guilt makes Tim wince. Once again he opens his mouth to tell her they’re not here to hurt her when she… vanishes.

She simply disappears right in front of their eyes.

“Shit, she’s a meta,” Hood hisses.

Red Robin’s thoughts fly a thousand miles per hour, finally making the conexions he stupidly missed for so long. Of freaking course. He was so used to dealing with a bunch of idiots in colorful costumes and assassins and whatnot he hadn’t taken in consideration that ninjas aren’t the only exceptional enemies they face. And if his theory is correct.

“She’s still here,” he says. “If I’m right, she can turn invisible. That’s how she’s been listening to private conversations.”

A soft gasp follows his statement and Hood is moving almost as fast as Red Robin’s insights. An invisible woman is still solid and her clumsy footsteps are still audible, so on the moment that follows Jason seems to embrace air.

“No!” She cries out, flashing in and out of sight for a few seconds.

“Careful,” Red Robin warns.

Hood is wearing his helmet, but Tim knows him well enough to know his brother is glaring at him as if saying duh?

Lisa tries to stomp on Hood’s feet, she squirms and grunts, but he doesn't budge. Apparently invisibility is her only power and she looks terrified.

“It’s okay!” Red Robin hurries to say. “We’re not going to hurt you!”

She turns her frantic gaze to him. Her brown eyes suddenly become watery.

Shit.

“Hood, let her go,” Red Robin says.

“Seriously?”

“Yes. You’re not going to try to escape again, are you, Lisa? We just want to ask a few questions.”

He wishes they had waited for Steph.

Lisa hesitates, paralysed, but slowly nods. Her eyes never leave Red Robin once their gazes met, not even to check whether Hood is going to let her go or not.

“Hood,” he calls again.

Groaning something about being too trusting, Jason lets her go. He is gentle about it, too, making sure to let her feet touch the floor carefully instead of simply dropping her. Regardless, as soon as she’s left to stand on her own legs, her knees give in and she drops on the floor. At that, Tim can tell even Jason is hiding guilt behind his helmet.

He shakes his head to regain focus and crouches in front of the woman. If at this point they just apologize and leave, they’ll have traumatizes this poor woman for nothing.

“Lisa Harris,” he starts. “That’s your name, right?”

She trembles when he says her name and that should have been the first red flag. He blames it on the stressful situation and moves on.

“I’m sorry for startling you,” he says. He keeps his expression empty, even if he again can tell Jason is cringing at the understatement. “No one here is going to hurt you. We just want some answers. Is that alright?”

Her hands are balled tightly on her lap as though she’s making a lot of effort not to move them - perhaps to punch them, defend herself? But again she doesn’t look prone to start a fight.

“You’re him,” she whispers, her voice heavy with… something. It almost sounds like affection. “You’re really the Red Robin. In my room.”

That red flag is harder to ignore. He is about to check for other shock symptoms when Hood calls.

“Hmm… Red? Are you seeing that?”

He follows his brother’s gaze… and his chin drops. On the wall opposite to the door hangs a giant corkboard. On the corkboard, held by black and red tacks there are dozens of Red Robin pictures. Some blurry, some taken from so far that you can barely be sure it’s really Red Robin or not, the infamous picture of the thumb war (demon horns had been disturbingly scribbled on Jason on that one) and… He doesn’t have words.

“You’re my hero!” Lisa claims.

“Is he? I couldn’t tell,” Hood says.

Red Robin punches his knee, which is all he can reach from where he is, and turns his attention to the woman in front of him.

“Lisa, for how long have you been following me?”

“Since you saved me,” she says. “Well… Hm. You didn’t save me. But you stopped a heist at the Central Bank a couple of months ago and I was there. I could've died without you.”

Aw, crap on a stick.

“Do you… do you know who I am?”

“You’re Red Robin,” she repeats.

“He’s asking about his identity behind the mask.”

The way she glares at Jason doesn’t suggest she had been shaking in fear moments ago. “He’s Red Robin,” she insists. “I don’t need anything else.”

“If you don’t know… how do you have so many…” Hood gestures vaguely at her creepy corkboard.

“I did detective work,” she says and glances at Red Robin as if expecting a pat on the back. “I noticed you always go on patrol on mondays, wednesdays, fridays and saturdays. Then if I wandered around long enough… It was just a matter of hard work and bit of luck, really.”

Damn. Now that Tim thinks about it, the one time he went on patrol spontaneously was also the night Vicki Vale found him by coincidence rather than magically knowing what happened.

“Fuuuuck,” Hood groans. “I told B patrol schedule was a dumb idea!” Then, in a deep growly voice, “ It’s a matter of efficiency Hood, don’t be paranoid. Who’s paranoid now, Batloser?”

“Not the time, Hood.”

“Right. Proceed.”

Red Robin sighs. “Why did you sell my pictures to Vicki Vale?”

At that, Lisa looks suddenly ashamed. “I.. I’m sorry. I thought… I thought you were involved with him and I panicked. I thought… I thought seeing what it would do to your reputation would make you see that he’s not good enough for you.”

“Rude.”

“Hood.”

“What? She is.”

“I was trying to learn more about him, you know? I was. When I found out he was your brother, I realized you had no option, right? Family is family. I even told the news again to clean your record.”

So he had a stalker. A stalker concerned about his love life, no less, that’s… great. Just great. Of all the scenarios he considered they’d have to face, this is not one of them. Before he decides what to do, however, Lisa speaks up again.

“You sound so… nice.”

Tim stares at her in confusion, unsure whether to thank her or not. Regardless, she didn’t sound like she was complimenting him.

“I mean… aren’t I supposed to be?”

“No! I mean… you’re… you’re dark and brooding and serious and you don’t waste time with civilians unless forced…” She frowns and Tim figures she’s thinking about the night with the strippers. “You’re… the night.”

Jason snorts. Tim punches his knee again. “Lisa, I’m pretty sure you’re thinking of Batman, not me.”

Her expression twists in such fury both vigilantes prepare to restrain her, but instead of directing her anger at them, Lisa scoffs.

“Don’t get me started on Batman! All that crap about being mysterious and working alone? Then he joins the freaking Justice League? Just… Batman, in the middle of a bunch of rainbow wearing clowns. And then… all those freaking kids. Why does he have so many kids?”

“Lady, we ask ourselves that everyday,” Tim admits.

Lisa is wearing the same expression Krystal had when Red Robin denied his relationship with Hood.

“I’m sorry, Lisa, I’m grateful that you admire me, but you can’t keep following me like this.”

Her eyes teary again, Lisa swallows dry. “Clearly, if you’re sorry about it.”

They can’t exactly take her to Arkham for taking pictures. Tim feels less bad about the whole thing when the woman stands and starts telling them in a very loud voice to get the hell out of her house.

“Fine,” Jason says, heading to the corkboard. “But I’m taking this.”

“Take it,” she shouts. “I don’t need it anymore. You’re just like Batman!”

And that’s how Red Hood and Red Robin find themselves standing in the middle of a dusty hallway, Hood with a conspiracy board under his arm.

Well, that happened.

In the end, Steph was furious about them going to the stalker’s house by themselves, but there was not a lot she could do except doodle on every picture of the stalker board.

There must be something very wrong with their sense of humor, because their text group becomes a mess of jokes about the stalker Robin being stalked. At that Tim has no problem exercising Jason’s lessons in holding grudges and refuses to help them with any of their cases unless they stop it. The thing is that all of them find the whole thing hilarious.

All of them except Duke.

“Give it a while,” Tim tells him. “You’re the most recent acquisition to the family. In due time your idea of funny will be just as warped as ours.”

“Hm. When was the last time you slept, Timmy?” Duke asks.

“Tuesday.”

“Today is Tuesday.”

“Hahahaha yeah.”

“... Jaaaaasooon! Come over here! Tim is going into The Ring territory! Do something about it!”

Bruce doesn’t find it funny either. He isn’t happy that there’s a deranged meta he didn’t know about, but Tim thinks that was the least surprising part of the whole ordeal. He reckons a lot of metas doesn’t want to be a hero or a villain, they’re just regular people that live regular lives and happened to win in the metagene lottery.

Or… well. In Lisa’s case, not so regular.

And that’s why upon hearing the story for the first time, Bruce completely freaks out. He starts considering possibilities from scaring the woman as Batman - “That’s a terrible idea, dad, you heard she likes that shit,” says Dick over facetime - or having her arrested - “Father, having bad taste in men is hardly a crime. She has yet to do anything to harm Timothy” Damian helpfully reminds him - and finally to fill out a restraining order - “For who, Karen?” Jason snaps. “Red Robin? Or you want to walk into that nut job and tell her she’s not allowed near Tim Drake-Wayne?”

Long story short, it’s chaos. Tim has had enough of a crazy night, so he sits back near the training area of the cave and sips the tea Alfred made him. Bruce is doing Tim’s stressed out circuit, pacing back and forth around the cave while his children follow him - Damian is holding the phone higher than his head so Dick can talk to Bruce at eye level - and they try to talk him out of doing anything stupid.

Most of them, anyway. It looks like Duke is definitely looking into the possibility of a restraining order.

Cass detaches herself from the mess and heads towards Tim. She looks calm, as Cass always does, and some of that calm transfers to him. When she takes a seat by his side, he smiles at her.

“Okay?” she asks.

Tim shrugs. “Weirded out, mostly. I’ll be fine.”

She points at her then signs Tim’s house as a question. She’s asking him if he wants her to come over.

While Cass is one hell of a bodyguard, Tim thinks of Steph, who’s most definitely playing with his video games back at home, and of Jason, whose schedule mostly matches Tim’s, hence he is, more often than not, at one shout of distance. Tim can’t think of any place that feels safer than his home right now.

“I’m fine. Jay and Steph are taking care of me. I’ll just have to be twice as careful during patrol,” he says.

Cass nods, satisfied. She gives him a forehead kiss and leans against his side. The two of them watch their family yell at each other for the next ten minutes, matching serene smiles on their faces.

Bruce settles for keeping Lisa under occasional watch.

Barbara stalks her online and finds that Lisa has left a Red Robin fanclub (Tim did not know those existed) and closed all of her threads on the Red Robin subreddit (Tim knew about those, but kept his distance), making it seem that learning that Red Robin is just a polite-ish kid really killed her love.

Bruce says he’ll keep tabs on her because he know she’s a meta, it’s not like he’s being overprotective, he totally knows Tim can take care of himself, really.

Other than that, Bruce is way too happy about Jason’s new living arrangement. He even almost smiles.

Tim… is fine. The whole thing is creepy, for sure, but he finds out that his siblings making so many jokes about it makes it easier to handle. Yay for their unhealthy coping mechanisms.

He doesn’t think he will ever be okay with media, though. It’s annoying enough that he has to deal with reporters as Tim Drake-Wayne, he definitely doesn’t need the attention as Red Robin.

Luckily for him, his siblings help him with that too. One time he’s wrapping a gang bust with Nightwing when a reporter comes running towards them, begging for a few answers. Red Robin cringes inwardly realizing there are no close buildings to use his grapple, but before he can say anything, Nightwing squeezes his shoulder.

“Go, Timmy. I’ve got this.”

Tim smile. “Thanks, Dick.”

And he leaves the silent and swift way only a Bat can do.

Things are great. As great as they can be in Gotham, at least. Tim wakes up at 9am - an early time for a vigilante, but he got at least 5 hours of sleep, so that’s something - and heads to the kitchen. He finds Steph (who still swears she doesn’t live with them) and Jason bickering over pancakes they’re making. Smiling to himself, Tim mumbles a good morning and starts washing the dirty dishes from last night.

The peaceful morning is interrupted by Steph’s phone buzzing. She use a paper towel to clean her hands before checking it and…

“Uh… Timbers?” she calls.

He freezes, the pan he’s washing suddenly forgotten. “What now?”

Steph is trembling with contained laughter when she hands him the phone. Duke just sent her a link to a news article. Tim clicks and finds himself staring at the headline RIVALRY BETWEEN HEROES? followed by a clear picture of Nightwing and a blurry shot of Red Robin.

The article follows:

After dealing with an infamous gang of contrabandists that operated near Gotham’s harbor, Nightwing and Red Robin went their separate ways without much courtesy. Despite the short collab, it appears that Red Robin didn’t appreciate Nighwing’s help, his farewell words being a sarcastic “thanks” followed by calling Bludhaven’s hero a “dick”.

Tim raises his eyes to the other two. Steph is hiding her face into the crook of Jason’s neck, her shoulders still trembling a bit. Having read the article over Steph’s shoulder, Jason is biting his lip.

Tim deadpans: “This is the funniest shit that ever happened to me.”

The three of them explode in laughter and they cackle for a good minute, until the three of them are breathless and their cheeks hurt.

“I-I want to print that and frame it,” Steph manages between giggles. “Let’s hang it on the living room.”

“Good… ahaha… Good work, Timbers,” Jason says, smiling wide. “For that, you can have extra pancakes.”

Tim is still grinning when he goes back to his dish duty. Maybe being under the media attention isn't so bad after all.

#batfam #red robin #tim drake #jason todd #red hood #stephanie brown #red bros #poteto writing #lmao here take this

32 notes · View notes

twiceblackvelvet · 4 years

Note

Can I request a angst/fluff scenario where reader and jisoo have broken up but reader gets drunk and confesses their love for her 🥺

A/N; i left this quite open-ended because i may expand on this in the future, hope you don’t mind anon. enjoy!

It’s been three weeks now since your entire world came crashing down. Not that you’ve even noticed. Time stopped existing when the feeling of life having no meaning anymore took over your mind.

For the last year, you dedicated your time, effort and love to someone who you thought you’d be with for the rest of your life. Thus, now you’re no longer able to do that, the thought of moving on feels like the universe’s way of having a joke at your expense.

You’ll never be able to find someone as loving, beautiful, strong, kind, funny and considerate as Jisoo. Yet, you managed to throw it all away in the blink of an eye over a silly accusation. An accusation that shouldn’t have even fallen from your mouth. One that Jisoo just can’t seem to forgive you for.

After a day full of practicing new choreography for her next comeback, Jisoo decided to unwind by heading out to a bar with the rest of her members, she dropped you a quick text telling you not to bother waiting up for her and yet you still did. When she finally made it back to the dorm your built-up frustrations over how little you’ve gotten to see each other lately as well as your own insecurities just got the better of you in the heat of the moment.

The next thing you remember is being told to leave. You’d seemingly blacked out in a haze of anger. The image of Jisoo’s cold eyes soaked in her own tears as she tells you the relationship is over has been tormenting you ever since.

You later found out from Jennie, who you bombarded with texts after Jisoo blocked your number, that you’d accused her of cheating with their choreographer. Every bit of trust between you both shattered into a million pieces and there’s no way you can glue them all back together.

Every night since has been spent wallowing in self-pity, scrolling through pictures of you both and mentally abusing yourself for being the world’s biggest idiot.

Tonight, however, you have to put on the biggest and fakest smile humanly possible. In your depressed state, you’d completely blanked on the fact that it’s your best friend’s birthday and that she’s organized a party for herself. You tried repeatedly to get out of going but she too is fed up with your moping and convinced you that having fun is exactly what you need.

So, here you are. The middle of a nightclub, music pulsating through several speakers placed on every wall and yet you’re still unable to drown out thoughts of Jisoo.

“Cone on, liven up a bit. Here, have a drink!” A woman you don’t recognize whatsoever places a drink down in front of you and stumbles off towards another table.

Usually, you wouldn’t be so silly as to accept a drink from a stranger, but you’ve passed the point of caring whether you end up spiked or not. For a split second, you even hope this already drunk woman has added something extra to your drink solely so you can stop all of your thoughts and feelings for longer than five seconds.

One drink quickly turns to two drinks and then soon enough you’re in the same state as the woman who initially handed you the first. Your balance has gone flying out of the window as the ground has seemingly turned to jelly. Well, either that or your legs.

“I think you’ve had enough, babe. Why don’t we get you home?” You try to focus your eyes to see which face this voice belongs to but you’re unable to see clearly as three of the same person appears before you instead. Everything around you is hazy and the dizziness is not helping. Before you can answer your mind goes blank and you once again blackout.

Someone above must be on your side as luckily your awaken when a taxi driver shakes your body and tells you that you’ve arrived home. You quickly stumble out of the car as to not hold them up any longer but you soon realize that the building before you is not your home.

Without thinking, you stumble up to the front door and ring the bell. You try to stand up straight and look presentable, but in actuality, you look like someone has hit you with a bus.

The door slowly opens and you’re pulled inside by a clearly frustrated Jennie.

“What are you doing here?” Her question is answered without words when she smells the alcohol on your breath and takes in your disheveled appearance. “Oh god, you’ve been drinking. Come on, let’s go back outside, I’ll get you-” She’s unable to finish her sentence as she notices your eyes boring past her face to something behind her.

“It’s fine Jennie, I can handle this.”

Hearing Jisoo’s voice for the first time in three weeks makes your insides burn deeply with need. Every inch of your body is begging you to run to her, wrap her up in your arms and never leave her side again. Despite your intoxicated state, your mind tells you not to do what is your first instinct and to instead allow her to guide you slowly to her room without speaking a word to each other.

Once inside the room that you’d previously spent many nights curled up beside the woman in front of you, your eyes allow the flood gates to open and no matter how hard you try the tears won’t stop falling. Jisoo simply stares on at you with the same cold expression as the day you left, her hands are fidgeting with the hem of her oversized sweater and her feet don’t quite know whether to carry her body to be beside you or stay rooted firmly to the ground.

“Why did you come here? I can see that you’re drunk but… why here?”

Your mind hadn’t allowed you previously to think about how you ended up here. But now, the only thing coming to the forefront of your mind is that you love her. You love Jisoo with every fiber of your being. You love the way her eyes shine whenever she smiles. You love the way her skin is so soft and flawless. You love the way her first instinct in a scary situation is to lighten the mood with one of her silly jokes. But most importantly, you love that her heart is so pure and ready to offer care to anyone who needs it. Yet, you decided to break said heart just as easily as she had trusted you to look after it.

“I’m sorry, I should leave.” You stand up albeit slightly unsteadily and begin to head back towards the door you just entered but her hand grasps tightly around your wrist and drags you back to your seated position.

“No, you came here for a reason tonight, I want to know why.” Her voice is harsh now and your ears sting slightly having never heard this tone previously.

There are so many racing thoughts inside your head now. You know you don’t deserve forgiveness. You know you don’t deserve this opportunity to explain yourself. You know that no matter what you say here you’ll never be able to stop the feeling of self-loathing nor take away Jisoo’s anguish. Yet, you try.

“I’m not sure, honestly. I went out with some friends and I guess I drank a lot more than I should have and now I’m here.” The first expression you see is a disappointment, clearly unhappy with your answer Jisoo sighs and sits down in front of you with her arms and legs crossed. “I really didn’t intend to come here, I just… I guess in my mind I just felt like I needed to be with you. Now that I think about it, I realize how selfish that makes me. I get myself into a state like this and my first instinct is to come running back to you to look after me.”

Word vomit has seemingly taken over your brain as you’re unable to stop yourself from letting words spill from your mouth without thinking them through, this time, they’re not accusing Jisoo of things you know she’d never in her life do. Instead, they’re confessing what’s inside your heart once more.

“I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t mean much and that you have every right to be mad at me, never forgive me or even throw me out right now. But I need you to know that truly, I am so sorry. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me and I know you’d never do anything to hurt me or our relationship. You have been so honest, loyal and caring every single day and I just… I got so frustrated with not getting to see you or having to cancel plans because your studio time went longer than it was supposed to. You were right beside me at times and I still missed you.”

Your entire body begins to shake now that you’ve started to open up. Jisoo notices this and slowly sits beside you and entwines your fingers together as she looks up at you through eyes rimmed with tears.

“I couldn’t stop thinking that maybe you’d grown bored of me or that you’d found someone else. I know it sounds stupid but I started to tell myself every single day that you were going to leave me thinking it would prepare me for it. Instead, it turned me into this jealous monster who couldn’t handle hearing about any other person being around you. I got so lost inside my own head that I ended up destroying us completely.”

Jisoo pulls you into a gentle hug as she runs her hand across your back. Your thoughts are still telling you that you’re undeserving of all of this. That she’s being too kind by comforting you after you ripped her heart out of her chest all due to your own insecurities. She still remains silent and allows you to finish what you’ve started.

“I love you. I love you more than anything else in this world. I know that you probably don’t believe that or think that I have a funny way of showing it but it’s true. I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re all I’ve ever wanted and I’m scared that you always will be because I don’t deserve you. I want to be happy again but I can’t without you and I don’t want to let you forgive me at the same time. I love you so much that it’s killing me.”

With that, you remove yourself from the embrace Jisoo has pulled you into and grab your bag to leave. You’re not sure if it’s from pouring your heart and soul out or the after-effects of several tequila shots but exhaustion has finally hit and you need to get home.

“Wait.” Your entire body freezes in the doorway with Jisoo’s words. “Don’t I get a say in any of this? Or are you just going to walk out and pretend I don’t feel the exact same way about you?” Her own body suddenly presses against your back as she wraps her arms around your torso holding you in place. “You’re right. I shouldn’t forgive you, nor should I have to take care of you in a state like this. Yet, here I am, willing to listen to you tell me you love me, willing to let you explain yourself and after all of it is said and done, I can’t think of anything else more I would rather do than look after you and let all of this go.”

None of her words make sense to you, she’s speaking very clearly and close enough for you to hear it perfectly and yet you can’t comprehend what any of it means.

“I’m not saying that all of this is fixed nor do I know if it ever will be, but I’m willing to try and put the pieces back together if you are. I love you y/n. Despite everything, I still love you.”

#blackpink #blackpink scenarios #kim jisoo #jisoo scenarios #kpop scenarios #girl group scenarios #kpop #angst #fluff

71 notes · View notes

vaguely-concerned · 4 years

Text

Twisted Fate/Graves thoughts 2 Electric Boogaloo because none of you can stop me

and I just have a lot of feelings okay

- t.f. taking an entire paragraph mid-fall during a harrowing life or death chase to give you the context for how much the imminent destruction of his boots is a tragedy is the funniest and most endearing character detail and also irrefutable proof that despite appearances he, too, really does only have that half a brain cell, it simply pingpongs around in there much more than graves’ half (which instead finds one idea and GOES HARD for it no matter what lol bless him)

also his pov is basically just a flippant ‘well this is a goddamn bitch of an unsatisfactory situation’ until graves literally forces him to have an honest emotion at gunpoint, and y’know... that be what love feels like sometimes when you’re like that as a person, extremely relatable, I feel for him so much

- I’m still just quietly astounded by the hmmm... implied intimacy? I guess? in the argument they’re having once they’re actually talking in burning tides. let’s look at what they’re actually saying to each other:

T.F.: “Are you ever gonna learn? . . . Every time I try to help you, I-” and “ I tried to get us out. The rest of us saw the job was going south . . . But you wouldn’t back down. You never do.”

vs.

Graves: “You’ll run again. That’s all you’ve ever done.” and “You made out alright, though . . . You know why? It’s because you’re a coward. And nothing you’ll ever say can change that.”

like them’s the sort of fraught fighting words you have with a spouse right towards the end of an ugly divorce, the full fruitless ‘why do you always have to --’ and ‘but you never listen to me!!!’ deal, especially from graves’ side lol. it’s the sort of hurtful you can really only be with someone you’ve been very, very close to, someone you know incredibly well. considering the whole backstory what graves is essentially saying here is ‘It’s your own fault people have left you; you deserve to be alone’.

(interestingly, in twisted fate’s pov it seems that what’s really messing with him is the part of not being listened to. he tried to plead with his family and they refused to listen, he tried to convince graves to run away with the rest of them and he didn’t listen, and here they are again and graves isn’t listening a g a i n and at that point t.f. clearly just sort of. gives up on actually being heard, in a slightly heartbreaking way. and from how graves reacts to seeing that I really think he’s not naturally cruel like that at all, he’s just in too much pain to think until this startles him out of it and then he does actually listen)

- through both stories graves is so desperately, enduringly horny for t.f. to be emotionally present and engaged with him without slipping away into his ~*cool magic gambler*~ persona and I find it weirdly sweet

- graves immediately getting fond of this leaky battered old rowboat... hfsadkjfhasd he’s sort of adorable in a way? it’s also really cute how he’s got this really tight focus on tf and his mannerisms and how genuine he’s being at any given moment. it’s such a neat way to show what he’s feeling and thinking about, which must be hard with a character who’s so massively oblivious to the finer points of his own inner life lol

ALSO can we talk about how tf literally winks at him at one point, right after they’ve sort of had a little moment of regained trust... like my good sir that is so deeply unnecessarily saucy of you, please control yourself (though in his defense graves somehow still isn’t picking up what he’s putting down so y’know maybe subtle isn’t the way to go here anyway haha)

- I wonder if t.f. used to go by his initials even before he changed his name -- graves calls him by it straight off the bat in burning tides and t.f. seems to consider his real name mildly embarrassing lol. (also intriguing that he does appear to think of it as his ‘real name’, and not ‘old name’ or something like that. it’s why I feel like we’ve got more of a dual identity going on here than a deadname situation, it feels more like two distinct levels of emotional vulnerability/availability to me. and so ‘tobias’ stops being relevant when there’s no one left to know him as that. ow.)

- from reading his bio it seems like twisted fate has had to figure out a lot of the magic stuff on his own (except for the mention of his grandpa teaching him the fortune telling part of it -- seems like they had a bit of a special connection, really, if him leaving his old cards with the kid before they left is anything to go by). what I’m saying is that I would read thousands upon thousands of words of him experimenting with it when they were younger and graves hurriedly having to topple a table over and pull them both behind it for cover before they both explode lol

(and then t.f. popping his head up afterwards like ‘hAH see I TOLD you I could do it!’ and graves disconsolately lighting a cigar from the burning rubble b/c the things one does for love partnerships huh)

- I’ve been looking over burning tides with a writing eye a few times to figure out what makes it work so well for me, and one of the things I really like is that there are a lot of small comments/details that are there or are framed in a certain way specifically to emphasize the familiarity and history between the characters. Just small details like He moves fast for a big man. I’d forgotten that and graves mentioning he’s never liked standing too close when t.f. does the teleporting thing -- not to mention t.f.’s name reveal, which if I understand this correctly was actually new information to the readers when burning tides was going on. (and yes it is still very funny to me that his actual name is tobias. the duality of man)

(I also feel like there are HUGE differences in writing quality between the different POV sections -- I guess different people wrote for the different characters? Well, both of the first person sections are gold and that’s what matters to me in this story so I don’t really mind. Sadly the Miss Fortune parts read the weirdest and stiffest to me, which is unfortunate b/c I love her lore concept a lot and she’s so cool in double double-cross. WHO the fuck let an unironic ‘the crimson-haired siren’ slip through the edit, is what I really want to know. please, narrator, tell me about her cerulean orbs while you’re at it)

- The man I used to know seems lost under years of hatred.

I don’t try to say anything else. I can see it in his eyes, now. Something’s broken inside of him.

still makes me SO SAD and I’m incredibly happy it turns out not to be true in the end thank GOD

- this might just be me reading into stuff too much, but I really like this sense that in moments of high emotion/genuine vulnerability, graves tends to sound older and more tired while t.f. sounds younger than he actually is, more frightened and hurt

- if his mind hadn’t been completely focused on partner-rescuing and open murder were in any way his style, t.f. totally could have killed gangplank right there and then before miss fortune even got to blow the fucker up haha. then again if that were the sort of guy he were he’d be dead along with all the rest of them

- it’s so good that graves tries to save miss fortune’s guy before they leave the cave but also isn’t broken up about it when it turns out he can’t, that feels like such a correct encapsulation of his moral character haha

- I really do enjoy graves’ POV so much not just because there’s something immensely comforting about how he refuses to be scared even in the face of death because he’s too damn grouchy and won’t give the world the satisfaction, but also because the language/cadence is so satisfying. he does have a way with words, in a gruff non-flashy sort of way.

It smells like the end of everything – sulfur and ash and death; cooked hair and melting skin -- the rhythm of that is so gooood and that whole section conveys the horror and destruction but also the awe of the scene so well. (I’m telling you graves isn’t actually dumb at all, just astoundingly unbendingly single minded once he’s got an idea in his head lol)

- I keep thinking about the fact that the last two things twisted fate thinks about before he passes out from drowning is if graves is scared and ‘What would Malcolm do?’ and I’m feeling real 😭😭😭 about it

- I’m still so disproportionately intrigued by graves mentioning his mom in burning tides. considering how early and seemingly easily he left home (...not to mention that he brings her up in connection with someone punching him in the face) it might be a safe bet that they weren’t that close but like. she also seems to be one of the very very few non-revengy things he’s checked up on after getting out of prison. did he send money home sometimes? would he visit whenever they came back to bilgewater? did she ever meet t.f. and if so did she approve or was this a bit of a uncharmable mother in law from hell situation? I um. I want to know these things pls riot it’s for science

(First post is over here btw, if anyone’s interested!)

#tf x graves #twisted fate x graves #league of legends #meta #it's hard to overstate how much my brain cannot be controlled and WILL focus on dumb stuff all day every day lol

24 notes · View notes

minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong · 5 years

Text

Half Of You: Jimin One Shot

Request: fluff: Friend group travelling (wherever inspires you most! I'm thinking someplace like Hawai where they visit secret beaches and stuff! Site-seeing in the city could also be interesting!). Jimin and and OC know eachother through friends. OC is independent and not TOO into the whole adventuring deal but does it to enjoy some quality time with her friends. Jimin is flirty and playful and makes the trip all the more interesting for her. (I don't know how you want to set it up but maybe two friends are dating and they invite their two seperate friend groups on this trip to meet. Or maybe it's a wedding and OC is a bridesmaid? Anything works honestly!) - @silviasgotyourback

Description: You’re not too keen on...you know...risk-taking. In fact, it scares you to your core. But when your close friend Kim Namjoon gets in your head, you agree to a crazy trip to Fiji with him and his pals. But what happens when one of those pals -- specifically Park Jimin -- sweeps you off your feet not only figuratively, but literally?

Word Count: 15.8k

Pairing: Jimin x (gender neutral) Reader

Tags: Office Worker!Reader, Choreographer!Jungkook, Producer!Namjoon, Non-Idol!Au, Kinda Enemies to Lovers?? Haha idk

Genre: Fluff and angst, fluffy ending

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of alcohol

A/N: Wow what a long break I’ve taken haha! But I’m back (kinda) to post some one shots (slowly)! I’ve been working really hard on my graduate school writing sample and auto statements, and I’ve just started my senior year of college AND started a new job so I’ve been incredibly busy! I apologize nonetheless for my absence. It’s felt horrible being away. Very guilty lol. Anyway, thank you my dear for requesting and for being so so so SO patient with me. I hope you like the result!

Also, if you want to follow me on Twitter please do so! My handle is @/nirvana_namu. I would post a link, but rumor has it Tumblr killed links and I’m not taking any chances.

- Mercury

You’re not sure why you agreed to this.

Standing at the tippy top of a mountain, looking out over the entire surf as it roils in the golden island sun, you watch your best friend get strapped into a harness with a laugh that echoes through the humid air. His gaze is focused downward, along the slope of treetops leading to the water. A zipline. A really steep, really fast one. One of the longest in the world! Namjoon had proclaimed with no small measure of wonder in his round eyes before you’d boarded the plane side by side only a day prior. If you weren’t so scared, you’d want to paint it.

You really don’t know why you agreed to do any of this.

The vested employee adjusts the straps secured around Namjoon’s hips, tugs them once or twice — not nearly enough by your standards — and mumbles something unintelligible into the receiver of a walkie-talkie. Enveloped in greenery, Namjoon pauses to turn and look at you and, upon snagging your eyes, offers a big, stupid, dimpled grin. He waves one hand over his head at you as you wait to be loaded into the next harness. And it looks like his eyes are squinted against the sun, but really they’re squinted from the sheer force of his joy. A joy too big to be contained in a smile alone.

That’s exactly why, you think to yourself with a grimace as you shamble forward along the worn footpath, second-to-last in line, arms crossed over your torso as if they can protect you from whatever fresh hell Namjoon’s planned out.

The employee pats Namjoon’s bare shoulder before releasing him and sending him speeding down the swaying cable with a scream so loud it pierces your ears. His body falls out of sight for a frozen millisecond before the cable gives a mighty bounce and his head reappears, bobbing up and down as he slides toward the bottom. You wince, more out of fear than discomfort, and pause to peek over the edge of the loading platform, following the line of the cable all the way to the bottom. Your heart races as your eyes trace the dense tree line, seemingly endless, and the sheer drop that had claimed Namjoon just seconds before.

And that’s when, as you sweep your twitching gaze out behind you, you lock eyes with Park Jimin. Standing behind you, the very last of the group to depart down the cliffside, his lips are quirked into a smirk that reads cocky and his brows are raised, unyielding eyes stuck on you like tree sap. Of all people to be stuck with on the top of a mountain…

Your face goes hot and your spine stiffens by a few degrees. You stare back at him, trying to discern any measure of fear in his smiling expression, his half-exposed teeth, his rosy cheeks, his teasing brown eyes. But instead all you see is, as usual, a perfect facade of composure.

Well, that and a sinfully handsome face.

He saunters up beside you, scans you from head to toe, and hums a little. “Nervous?” he asks, as if he doesn’t already know.

You clear your throat, fan yourself with your hand as a futile defense against the jungle heat, and nod your head once. “Mm.”

Upon hearing your response, Jimin’s demeanor shifts a little. He uncrosses his arms and his smirk slips, brows raising. He leans closer to examine your face and you avert your gaze, heart hammering. “Whoa, you’re actually spooked, huh,” he remarks before glancing around the platform. “Shit, I don’t think the guide’s gonna let you turn back now.”

You’d expected him to make fun of you, perhaps laugh at your weak constitution. But this…

This is new.

Though well-meaning, Jimin’s words serve only to set your palms sweating and your heart racing faster. Your throat feels a little funny, tight like asthma. You shift your weight from foot to foot. “I-It’s fine,” you mumble, sliding past him as the employee beckons you forward with a lazy wave. “I’ll just…do it.”

Jimin hangs close behind you as the employee begins strapping you in, not sparing even a single word for you. “Hey, uh, my friend’s a little nervous,” Jimin says lowly to the young man working on hooking the harness around your hip. He glances up to meet your eyes before looking toward Jimin. “Any way you can, like, go gentle or something?” Jimin offers a convincing smile, the kind of grin that could get anyone to do anything.

The employee surprises you by releasing a puffy laugh and straightening to his full height, pausing to pat the dust off the backs of his legs. He chuckles and pats your back. “I can’t control the cable,” he says, then pauses for a moment to think. “But…,” he continues as Jimin turns pleading eyes his way, “if you’re feeling really nervous, I’ve heard it helps to shut your eyes and count to ten. Like, tell yourself you’re definitely gonna do it once you reach ten and just…go.”

You swallow hard and inhale sharply through your nose. “Alright,” you say, but his words have fled from your brain as soon as they’d been uttered. Your voice is shaky. Almost as shaky as your hands as you raise them to grip the straps of your harness.

Have you always had such a strong grip?

Your brain goes a little fuzzy, looking out over the precipice on which you stand, unsteady feet and rushing pulse. It’s dizzying. Like the world is spinning, but you’re not spinning with it. Or perhaps you’re spinning and it’s the world that’s gone still. Either way, the stretch of trees extending far beyond the tips of your hiking boots looks like it’s swaying on an axis, and each blink tilts the view some different way. You wonder if you’re breathing enough, or maybe too much, because your head is spinning. Like when you stand up too quickly after sitting for a while. You wonder if you’ll pass out before you reach the bottom.

If you reach the bottom.

Jesus, you hadn’t even considered the possibility of this stupid cable snapping. It doesn’t look too stable, upon closer inspection. Bouncing in the breeze. And as the employee finishes strapping you in, you pause for a moment to move your legs about and find, to your horror, that the straps are slightly loose.

Oh God.

You’re gonna throw up.

“Hey,” says a soft voice from beside you.

You feel a warm hand slide along the skin of your upper back, resting to cup your shoulder. Slowly, you turn your toward Jimin, standing with one arm wrapped around you and the other braced on his own knee so he can level his eyes with yours. He’s smiling a little. A different one this time, a soft one. The wind blows his dark hair from his eyes and carries the scent of his cologne. Somehow, you feel yourself relax a little against his side.

“It’s gonna be okay, alright?” he asks gently, and this is an entirely new Park Jimin to you. A tender young man with kind eyes. He smiles again and gives your shoulder a squeeze. “I’m right behind you.”

And for some reason, that comforts you. You don’t have time to dissect it however, as the employee takes up your other side and raises his brows, asking silently if you’re ready to go. Of course, you aren’t. How can you be? But again, Jimin squeezes your shoulder and seizes your attention with another smile, this one turning his eyes to crescents as he nods his head.

“Um…yeah,” you say, taking a moment to focus on your breath.

“Remember,” says Jimin as he steps away from you. “Count to ten, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, shutting your eyes.

One.

You’re gonna do it.

Two.

On ten, you’re just gonna go.

Three.

It’ll be fine.

Four.

Joon did it, and he’s fine.

Five.

And Tae before him, and that guy Jimin brought.

Six.

Nobody’s died yet.

Seven.

You can do it too.

Eight.

And even if I’m scared, at least you’re not alone up here.

Nine.

Jimin’s right behind you.

Ten.

Your scream rips through the valley below.

And, seconds later, so does your unfettered laughter.

You met Park Jimin on the worst day of your life a month ago. Freshly laid off from your job as a financial analyst — a job which Namjoon disliked from the start —, and disappointed by a string of bad dates after a catastrophic breakup, you’d agreed to meet up with a few college friends for a drink at your local stomping ground. You’d found Jimin sitting in the middle of a smoky bar with a girl on one arm and a guy on the other. Gross, was all you’d thought in passing. You’d paid him little mind, too busy wallowing in your own self pity to think too hard about any one thing, but it seemed he was incessant on grabbing your attention by any means necessary.

You’d sidled up to the bar, awaiting Namjoon’s I’m here text, and had only just ordered your drink when the strange young man with the unusually bright smile took up the space beside you. Now alone, he offered you a grin and his hand for you to shake. For a few seconds, you only stared at his outstretched palm. At the lines cutting across it. What was that long line called? The life line?

Eventually, however, you realized he wasn’t going anywhere, planted firmly in the wobbly barstool to your right, and you relented with a handshake. But that wasn’t what this stranger was after. He yanked you just a little once your hands connected.

“Hey, honey!” he said as he pulled you in toward his chest, sweeping you up in a tight, firm hug that knocked the wind from your lungs.

You were neither playful enough nor drunk enough to reciprocate and instead sat there stiffly, arms pressed against your sides as the stranger with the cute face hugged you close. Over his shoulder, you locked eyes with the girl who’d previously ornamented his left arm, watching you keenly, and it didn’t take you long to understand what was going on.

“Dodging an ex?” you whispered without moving your lips too much.

You felt a wave of shivers trace up your spine and it only took you a few seconds to realize why. It was just the sort of thing you imagined Hanseul doing if he ever bumped into you…

He chuckled. “Two, actually,” he responded as the young man he’d been entertaining also lifted his eyes from his drink to give you a once-over.

You sighed. “You’d better be buying my drink,” was all you said as the two of you broke away.

He’d laughed — that melodic sort of laugh that made you feel a little floaty — and rubbed your shoulder with a grin. “I’ll buy you twenty,” he joked, sliding the bartender a bill as he returned with your cocktail.

“So how’d you manage to get caught up with two exes at once?” you asked, nursing your glass.

He rubbed his jaw and shook his head, smiling at the bar table before him. “They were friends to begin with,” he said. And when you said nothing, only recoiled slightly, he met your eyes with a bright laugh. “C’mon don’t give me that look!”

You cleared your throat, turned away, and worked your straw between your teeth. “I dunno, sounds like maybe you brought it on yourself then,” you said, taking a healthy sip.

The stranger laughed again — more like a disbelieving scoff — and adjusted one of the several rings on his slender fingers. “Well I didn’t ask the two of them to come out tonight,” he said with a shrug. “And besides, neither of them looked unhappy to see me.”

“Ugh,” you mumbled, eyeing him sidelong as he chuckled.

He smirked and leaned across the bar toward you. “What?” he asked, and something about the heavy-lidded look he gave you, the simmering something in his eyes, made your pulse quicken. He rested his cheek in his hand and cocked his head to the side, now close enough to smell a whiff of his cologne. “You think I’m a bad guy?”

You swallowed hard before downing the rest of your drink and slamming the glass back on the bar. You waved the bartender over and pointed to the empty glass. Wordlessly, he began fixing you a replacement. You peeked back at the guy to find him smiling at you, musing perhaps, with the strangest mix of curiosity and pity in his expression.

You were definitely going to need another drink.

“Do good guys usually do stuff like that?” you asked, watching the bartender as he shook your drink around his metal tumbler.

He chuckled. “Can goodness be quantified by things like who we date?” he asked.

You stiffened. “Not by who you date,” you continued, shaking your head as memories of your own ex resurfaced. “But who you hurt, sure.”

He rolled his eyes, swiveling in his barstool to look at you head on. “Why’s it my fault who gets hurt?” he asked.

You cocked a brow. “You…can’t be serious…” But from the expression he wore you were certain that he was indeed quite serious.

He shrugged. “It’s not my intention to hurt someone, so why do I have to take responsibility if they get hurt?” he asked, then smirked and gave your thigh a nudge with his knee. “The way I see it, if you get hurt you’re the one whose expectations were too high.”

“That’s gross,” you said, inching away. You were inclined to simply leave, abandon this conversation and the bar at large and call it a night. But the bartender wasn’t finished with your drink and you weren’t about to piss him off. Not on a day like today. “If you’re dating someone, you’re committing to them.”

“What about polyamorous people?” he countered with a smug grin.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not talking about polyamorous people. I’m talking about monogamy.”

“But why does everyone expect monogamy?” asked Jimin, tossing his hands up in the air with a breathy laugh. “Anyway, I always make it clear from the start that I’m not the kind of person who wants to be…well, you know…,” he started, then furrowed his brow and waved his hand. “Like, in a relationship.”

You sighed, nodded your thanks to the bartender as he slid you your drink, and watched as Jimin again offered cash in return. “And that’s fine, but you can’t expect someone to stick around and be okay with that.” You rubbed your temples as memories swirled together. “Be okay with half of you.”

If you really loved me, you’d understand that I could have any person in the world and you’d still be my number one!

Scumbag.

This gave him pause and, slowly, he shifted his eyes your way once more, scanning you. “Half of me?”

You nodded and downed a gulp of your drink with a wince. “Giving half is fine if the other person is giving half too. If you both only expect half,” you began, then ran your hands along your neck. Your skin was feverish, alcohol making your head light. “But if one person wants more, it’s not fair to string them along.”

He stared at you gravely, eyes hard and jaw set, and furrowed his brow. “That’s too old-school,” he said.

You huffed and crossed your arms. “It’s not old-school!” you said, wagging a finger at him. “It’s about respecting the other person enough to let them go when you realize you can’t be what they need.”

He pouted a little and rolled his eyes. “You sound ancient,” he said, then paused to give you a knowing smirk. “Wait, don’t tell me,” he began, scooting closer with a conspiratorial look. “You were scorned by your ex. Like…I dunno, like they cheated or something. Broke your heart, ruined your trust, blah, blah, blah. And now you’ve got this vendetta or something because you got hurt.” He grinned and wiggled his brows.

You stiffened, eyes wide, and stared at him. “I…,” you began.

He laughed from his gut and nodded. “Ah, nailed it, didn’t I?” he asked.

There was a cruel edge to his teasing, an ill-intentioned bite that felt like it was made to injure. You couldn’t quite put your finger on why, but you knew you felt it in that hazy bar, surrounded by throngs of people gathered here and there, enveloped in smoke and conversation. But like a heat-seeking missile, it seemed his words were engineered to uncover the softest parts of you and destroy them.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was something else, but your eyes welled with tears and your throat constricted. You stared at him, this stranger who had pegged you without err, and felt the weight of your frustrations pressing down on the tops of your shoulders like sandbags. And as he perceived the shift in your expression, his own face changed from a cold sort of scrutiny to a round-eyed concern that washed away all evidence of his previous behavior.

“Oh shit,” he said, standing up and blocking your face from view. You felt a few hot tears spilling over and were quick to wipe them, but the humiliation was there on display whether you cried or not.

He’d gotten you.

Luckily for you, Namjoon’s timing had been particularly impeccable that day and he’d barreled into the bar with a lopsided grin and clapped both you and the stranger on the backs, Taehyung and Yoongi sauntering behind him. You’d startled a bit, jumping slightly at his approach, but once again luckily — or perhaps unluckily — Namjoon seemed to have little regard for the poor mood he’d stepped into and didn’t seem to notice your glassy eyes as you buried your nose in your drink.

“Well jeez, look at you two already getting acquainted!” Namjoon exclaimed with a big laugh.

You paused your sipping for a moment to slide only your eyes up toward your friend. “Huh?”

He blinked down at you, one hand still clamped onto the stranger’s shoulder, and raised his brows. “Didn’t I tell you I was inviting some work friends?”

You spat your drink, sending droplets of sweet alcohol splattering across the bar. Quick to right yourself, you faced Namjoon properly and, sputtering, replied, “Him?”

Namjoon laughed and rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you guys didn’t introduce yourselves,” he said, adding theatrics to his heavy sigh. “This is Park Jimin. That choreographer I’ve been telling you about? He’s coming with us to Fiji.”

Still coughing up the remains of your rum and Coke, you pat your chest. This was the kind-hearted dance major wunderkind who dazzled everyone at Namjoon’s entertainment company? This was the kid who, at the age of twenty-four, had more accolades than both his predecessors combined? This was the guy who befriended all the trainees and brought them sports drinks during long days of practice?

This was the guy you were going to spend two weeks with on an island in the middle of the Pacific?

Namjoon, standing between the two of you, moved to taste your drink and as he leaned forward you locked eyes with the acclaimed young choreographer over the plane of his back. Park Jimin stared at you with wide eyes and lips parted as if to speak. But even after Namjoon had straightened up and begun complaining about your drink order, Park Jimin, still with mouth agape, said nothing.

And so, as you go ripping through the jungle on a wobbling cable, screaming and laughing and crying just a little, you wonder how exactly that very same Park Jimin is the one who comforted you into taking this leap of faith. Below your dangling feet is a patchwork of different greens, all bleeding into a motion blur as your body is propelled down toward the bottom platform. As you slide along, you can just see Namjoon’s figure, reduced to a small silhouette amongst the trees, as he stands waving like mad at the edge of the platform. Laughing, you shoot both hands above your head and wave them around, causing you to sway on the cable. Startled, you quickly return your hands to gripping the straps near your chest.

You feel like a bullet whizzing through humid air and then, all at once, friction takes hold once more and you seize, eyes squeezing shut from the whiplash, head throbbing just a little, suspended over the platform. You are greeted by a chorus of applause and hollers of encouragement as the employee begins the process of disconnecting you from your harness and, as your feet land stiffly on the concrete slab, you lift wild eyes to meet Namjoon’s. You find him still with that grin plastered across his face, hair windswept, shirt askew.

“Wow!” is all you can say as the group laughs.

Namjoon smiles and claps your shoulder. “Right?” he asks and you can only nod and turn your eyes back up toward the cliff from which you’d descended.

Now far too distant to discern amongst the foliage, the loading platform sits somewhere lost in green. And, without meaning to, your mind wanders back to Park Jimin and you wonder idly if he’s counting to ten.

Sunset drenches the island as you lounge on the warm sand, leaning back on your elbows with eyes half-shut as you gaze out at the glittering ocean touching the horizon line. The sky is darkening by degrees, with vibrant reds and oranges spreading like watercolor into the navy blue edges. And for a blissful moment, you’re alone with it. Alone with the profound. And you’re not thinking about the new job you’d taken, or the text messages Hanseul left you this morning, or the bills you know you’ve got to pay soon. You’re not thinking about anything.

It’s beautiful.

Of course, it’d be more beautiful with a pina colada, but you don’t let your mind linger there too long. After all, Namjoon said this trip was supposed to be about adventure and ‘finding yourself’. You aren’t sure how much of yourself you can really find at the bottom of a fruity drink.

Namjoon invited you on this trip a year ago. He’d done it in typical Namjoon fashion: calling you up at two in the morning and rambling incoherently for a while before eventually getting to the point. You’d become so used to his pipe dreams that you’d half expected this plan to fall through like the others. The second the words left his lips, you’d rolled your eyes.

“What I’m saying is,” he began, breathless over the phone, as you push yourself up onto your bottom, bed sinking beneath you, “let’s go to Fiji.”

“Joon…,” you groaned. “Please, I have work tomorrow-,”

“Listen, fuck your job,” he said and you could practically see him waving his hands like a man gone mad. “This is important. Like…might be the most important thing we’ve ever done together, you know?”

“Where is this even coming from?” you asked, stifling a yawn. You glanced out your window and saw the city painted black, pinpricks of yellow office building lights.

He sighed. “I was looking up tropical music for this new song I’m working on for the trainees and I stumbled upon this incredible video about Fiji.”

“Like a generic white girl vlog?” you asked with a laugh, but Namjoon seemed deathly serious as he remained silent. You paused a moment. “Wait, you’re like…for real with this, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, of course.” He was quiet. “I just…I dunno…I guess, while we’re still young enough to do it, I wanna experience something incredible. While we still can. While things are still like this.”

“What do you mean?” You raised a hand to open your window, let in some cool night air, but as you jammed your hand along the pane, the thing only rattled dumbly in response. You huffed, focused.

“I mean life is transient and nothing’s guaranteed,” he said. “Who knows who we’ll be tomorrow, you know? Who knows how long these moments will last?”

You stilled for a moment, staring out your closed window, hand still poised to force it open. You glanced over your shoulder at your tiny apartment — clothes strewn over every piece of furniture, easel gathering dust in the corner of your living room, unused for the better part of a year, paintings still unhung propped against walls on the floor — and couldn’t help but sigh. As silver moonlight filtered in through your curtains, you felt an unfamiliar tug in your chest. A longing that didn’t make sense.

You had the job, the boyfriend, the social life…

You had it all.

But why did Namjoon’s words make you feel so hollow?

And before you even realized what you were doing, you replied, “How much is it gonna cost?”

“What’re you thinking about?” asks a soft voice from beside you.

Startled, you scramble slightly, sending a spray of sand flying through the air. You sputter a little, having inhaled too quickly for your lungs to handle, and squint against the golden sun. But as you settle enough to face the person beside you, you’re surprised to see it’s Jimin. Sunset drenches the expanse of shoreline, catches in the ends of his black hair, outlines the side of his rosy cheek as he gives you an easy smile.

You raise your brows. “Hm?”

He chuckles, rubs the back of his neck, and shrugs as he digs the heels of his hands into the sand, leans back on them. “Just...looked pensive.”

“Pensive…,” you repeat, mulling it over. You purse your lips. “I guess just...thinking about this trip.”

“What about it?”

“Just...why I even bothered coming,” you begin, then chuckled and eyed him sidelong. “You saw how I was today. The whole...adventure thing isn’t really my scene.”

He smiles, revealing on closer inspection one charming crooked tooth, and tilts his head to the side. “What do you mean? You looked like you were having the time of your life!” he says, nudging you with his elbow.

You smile at your knees, now pulled toward your chest, and sigh. “Thanks for saying that, but you know I was a mess.”

He pouts a little. “You weren’t.”

Glancing his way, you find him with furrowed brows staring distantly at the ocean. “Mm…,” you mumble in response.

He sighs. “You were scared,” he begins, then shrugs. “But you did it anyway. What’s so bad about that?”

You sense that he’s perhaps talking about something else while talking about you. Like he’s saying two things at once. But you don’t bother prying. Instead, you simply sigh and join him staring at the surf.

“It’s beautiful, huh?” you remark as the two of you sit side by side. And there’s a gentle sort of quiet between you, one you never expected to share with someone like Jimin.

But somehow, here he is. And looking at him as he watches the waves splash forward and recede, you can’t help but feel a little guilty for your attitude towards him. Guilty for the dread you’d felt as you boarded the plane behind him. Guilty for the scowl you’d worn as he walked beside you on the trail up to the zipline today. Guilty for the complaints you’d aired to Namjoon about him.

“Yeah,” he says with a pleasant, lazy smile.

Birdsongs welcome you to the fresh island morning. Lazily, you roll onto your side and peel your eyes open, straining against the sunlight pouring in through your ocean-facing windows. You yawn, pushing yourself up onto your bottom to stretch sore arms above your head. You twist your torso this way and that, crack your knuckles, point your toes as you extend your legs before you. The room is filled with bright morning light, all hardwood floors and tapestries on the walls. You glance around your bedroom -- one of eight private rooms in this massive Airbnb -- and realize with a start that this is the first morning in years that you haven’t immediately grabbed for your phone to check for work emails.

You expect, perhaps, to be unnerved by this. This lack of structure, lack of organization.

But, perhaps more unsettlingly, you are…

Surprisingly calm.

You shake your head and pad on bare feet into the bathroom beside your room. As you brush your teeth, you lock sleepy eyes with your reflection and can’t help but crack a little smile. For the first time in a long time, you look like you’ve had a proper night’s sleep.

You emerge in the living room a few moments later to find Taehyung -- Namjoon’s stylist friend -- and Seokjin -- Namjoon’s actor friend -- still sleeping on the couch, the TV still droning on as they’d likely forgotten to turn it off. And, standing in the kitchen by himself nursing a cup of coffee and a calm smile, is Namjoon. He’s caught a bit of a tan, glowing in the gentle sunlight, and his eyes are warm and fond as he looks out across the living room at his friends.

As quietly as you can manage, you maneuver around the sleeping boys and take a place beside Namjoon, resting a hip against the marble counter. “Morning,” he says softly.

You nod once. “Morning,” you repeat, and hold your hand out for his mug of coffee, wiggling your eager fingers. He chuckles and relents without much fight, offering the handle to you carefully. You take a warm, welcome sip and sigh. “How’d you sleep?” you ask.

He hums a little and adjusts the sleeve of his loose tee. “So tired I didn’t even dream,” he says with a laugh.

Smiling you reply, “Me either.”

He eyes you with a knowing smile and squints a little. Like he’s teasing you. “You like it here, don’t you?” he asks.

You roll your eyes and give his shoulder a healthy shove. He laughs in response, but says nothing more as you sweep your gaze out toward the wall of windows leading down to the beach. It’s immaculate in the morning time. Not a single silhouette dots the shoreline, only fishing boats just beyond the surf. Tourists are still asleep, you reckon, and you feel a little proud to not be one of them sleeping away the most beautiful hours of the day. You can see faint traces of clouds ringing the horizon, and the pastel yellows of sunrise giving way to the azure blue sky.

“It’s...really nice,” you admit with a nod, sipping the coffee once more. And, without meaning to, you think of Jimin yesterday. His hand on your shoulder, his comforting words reminding you to ground yourself before you floated away. “Yeah…,” you add, concealing an unintended smile.

Namjoon, however, has always been the smarter one out of the two of you and, predictably, he catches this shift in your expression and turns to you head on with raised brows. “Whoa!” he remarks with a grin. He points to your face with his index finger. “Look at that!”

You swat his hand away with a laugh and roll your eyes. “Lay off, alright? I’m having a good time. Isn’t that the whole point?”

He chuckles and sighs as he rests once more beside you. Gently, he lifts a hand to softly pat the top of your head. You’re certain your shock registers plainly on your face as he pats again. “I’m proud of you,” he says.

And in the simplest of phrases, he’s managed to pluck something profound from inside of you. You don’t need to ask to know precisely what he means.

Why does it make you want to cry?

“Morning,” says a quiet voice from behind Namjoon and, leaning slightly so you can see around your friend’s broad chest, you notice Jimin standing there and can’t help but smile.

He glances between Namjoon and you for a few seconds, brows lifted as if in question, before Namjoon clears his throat and wordlessly excuses himself, snatching his coffee on his way back into the living room where he begins rallying the boys awake.

You sigh, running a finger along the countertop’s perfect edge. “What’s on the agenda for today?” asks Jimin as he settles beside you.

You pause to think. “Um…,” you begin, tapping your lips with your fingers. “I think…,” you continue, musing as you begin to work your lower lip between your index finger and thumb. “Something about ATVs.”

But before you’ve even finished your sentence, Jimin has seized your hand in his and is now standing so close you can smell the scent of his detergent wafting up from his pajama shirt. He stares down at you with heavy-lidded eyes and a smirk, gaze flashing around your face before landing on your lips as he pulls both your hands down toward your shoulder. Your heart begins to race, eyes wide, skin hot where his fingers touch yours, and you swallow hard as he chuckles a few times, his breath fanning out across your warm face.

“Sorry,” he says, voice low and breathy. “It was distracting.” He then drops your hand and swivels on his heel, back toward the hallway from which he’d come. He pauses, however, to shoot you a wink over his shoulder. “Hard to focus when you do that,” he says, tapping his own plump lower lip with his fingertip before offering a wave and meandering down the hall.

And you stand there dumb, heart pounding so loud you can’t hear the crashing waves just outside the window.

You were shocked when you found out Hanseul had been messing around behind your back. Gutted, really. If it hadn’t been for Hanseul leaving his Instagram logged on to your phone, you’d probably never have found out to begin with. He’d always been that sort of guy, though.

Reckless.

And how very cliche, you’d thought as you read through months of exchanged messages, that he’d exchanged you like a used car for a newer model once he’d gotten tired of you. You dragged your finger almost lazily across the screen, brows raised as you rested on your couch, reruns of The Office blending into background noise. And where perhaps you’d expected hurt and resentment, you found only a grim acceptance.

Of course, you thought to yourself with a strange chuckle as you read the most recent message. A sappy sort of love IM that made your stomach churn. Riddled with sentimentality and grand platitudes, the messages reminded you of the ones you’d exchanged with Hanseul in the beginning. The ones that made you hopeful. Of course.

Somewhere amongst that grim acceptance, however, was something you didn’t expect. Something primal. A sort of fear that had no name.

Fear, perhaps, of the implications.

Fear of all the things that would have to change, all the comforts you’d known for years chipping away like old paint left on the wall too long.

And so, like a house of cards, your world shook and crumbled mightily down to its very foundation.

You’re slack-jawed as you stare at the row of ATVs standing equidistant before you. Eight identical machines pointed down the rolling hills behind you. An instructor standing with a grin and hands on her hips as she watches you scan the locomotives with your eyes wide and round. Beside you is Namjoon, smiling too broadly for his face to accommodate, with Seokjin and Taehyung drowsily fighting yawns. Jimin stands on your other side, arms crossed as he smirks at the ATVs like he’s done it all and seen it all before. His friend Jungkook is practically vibrating with anticipation, and Hoseok -- another choreographer from the company -- stands whispering in low tones with Yoongi, the young PD Namjoon never stops talking about.

The imposing green trees sway in the breeze around you: all potential threats as your group nears the line of ATVs. You wonder just how long you can manage on one of the things before hitting one of those tall waving trees. Anxiously, you glance over your shoulder at the hills extending as far as you can see. More possibilities for horrific injury.

As you tromp through the yielding sand underfoot, you feel someone step closer to you and you don’t need to lift your eyes from your boots to know who it is.

“You know, if you’re scared-,” Namjoon begins, but you silence him with a look, gaze severe.

He raises his hands in surrender before chuckling and patting your shoulder. He says nothing more as he swerves around you to hook his elbow around Taehyung’s neck. The two, laughing, continue toward the row of ATVs. Taking a moment to manage your breath, you press your palm against the rubber handle. You shut your eyes.

One.

You’re getting on this fucking ATV.

Two.

You’ve come this far, you can’t chicken out now.

Three.

You always chicken out.

Four.

When was the last time you did something that scared you this much?

Five.

Well...yesterday.

Six.

Before that though.

Seven.

When was the last time you took a risk?

Eight.

When was the last time you did something you wanted to do?

Nine.

Something you really wanted…

Ten.

You take a long inhale, nod once, and swing your leg over the side of the ATV. With both shaking hands gripping the handlebars, you glance to the side to see everyone else has mounted their vehicles, except for one. Jimin stands at the end of the line, talking with the guide too quietly to hear, but the way he’s waving his hands makes it seem like there’s a problem. The guide glances around, brows knit, before shrugging his shoulders and cupping a hand around the side of his mouth to shout.

“Hey guys! Looks like we’re one ATV short! Someone’s gonna have to share!” he calls, and grumbles resound around the group.

Beside you, Namjoon and Taehyung complain about having to share, both clearly not too keen on offering Jimin a spot on their ATV. You briefly feel bad for him, standing on the edge without a place to go to. You wonder if he feels left out, or if perhaps he’s considering staying back so the guide can show you the way. Without meaning to, you turn your head and lock eyes with Jimin and the instant you to you wish you hadn’t. Because now his eyes have lit up and his face is splitting in a small, hopeful smile.

And you know you’re cooked.

With a sigh, you raise your hand and wave it like mad, beckoning Jimin over. After all that, the breathing exercises and everything, after finding your courage, here you are handing over the reins.

“You can ride with me,” you say with a sigh as Jimin emerges at your side, smiling bright.

“Thank you,” he says with a laugh before hoisting himself up behind you.

“Oh!” you exclaim as Jimin rests his hands on his knees, right beside your thighs. He leans around your side and eyes you with wide brows. “I figured you’d wanna drive…,” you say, face going hot.

He blinks at you for a moment longer than normal before splitting into a grin and nudging your hip with his knee. “Well why would I do that?” he asks, rolling his eyes. “You looked really determined.”

Just like that, he understands exactly how you feel.

Startled, you turn to face him halfway, twisting your torso awkwardly as you lock eyes. He’s still smiling, still bright. The apples of his cheeks are redder than yesterday, and the bridge of his nose. A sunburn. He looks peaceful. As if he trusts you to drive this massive machine. As if it’s not even a thought that’s crossed his mind.

As if he never even considered taking this ATV from you.

“You guys ready?” shouts the guide with a hoot.

The boys around you holler their responses but you stay silent, still just staring at Jimin as he shields his face from the sun with one hand, still smiling, still peaceful.

You grip the handlebars and kick the ATV to life.

You first met Namjoon when you were in high school. He was a grade above you, so you’d never had reason to speak with him. Aside from passing him in the halls every now and again, you didn’t really interact with him at all. But things changed when he approached you after class as you finished cleaning off the blackboards. You’d stayed behind not because you wanted to, but because your classmate had pawned their classroom duties on you after a miserable game of Gin Rummy at lunch. You hadn’t protested much once the responsibility had fallen on your shoulders.

Another excuse to avoid going home.

Bony knuckles rapped against the blackboard beside your head and you jumped out of your skin, releasing a scream several octaves higher than you anticipated. But as the moment of panic passed, you realized with a start that the one who’d roused your attention was indeed upperclassman Kim Namjoon. And there he stood with a small dimpled smile and gentle eyes scanning you. You weren’t sure what he was looking for when he looked at you, but the way he tilted his head to the side made you think that perhaps he’d found it.

“Hey,” he said, face outlined by the last golden rays of autumn daylight.

You swallowed hard and took half a step back toward the podium. “Uh...hi…?”

“This yours?” he asked, dangling a sketchbook before you with one hand.

It took you several moments of squinting at the Strathmore sketchbook to realize that, in fact, it was yours. Your name was right there in the right corner where you’d scribbled it a month ago. And there was the tear in the cover from when your mother had tried to rip the thing from your hands -- unsuccessfully.

A rush of fear swelled through you and you snatched the pad from his outstretched hands like you were a prisoner and he was offering you food. Scared he’d rescind his offer if given even a moment to think it over. And as you clutched the thing to your chest, you scanned him with narrowed eyes.

“Where did you get this?” you asked. You were certain you had kept it safely in your bookbag since lunch. But glancing at the bookbag again, you found it surprisingly empty.

Namjoon raised his brows and raised his hands in surrender. “I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he said, then chuckled with a shrug. “What kind of thief would return the thing they stole anyway?”

You paused for a moment, brows furrowed, before sighing and nodding. “I guess that’s true,” you admitted before gently guiding the sketchbook back into the mouth of your backpack. “Um…,” you hedged as you turned back to the guy. You held out your hand to him and he rolled up the long sleeve of his uniform cardigan to take it in his own. “Thanks,” you finished with a shake.

He shook his head. “Don’t mention it,” he said, laughing a little. “Had to ask around to find out which class you were in though.”

You felt a warm bloom of embarrassment and pulled your hand away, shoving it back into your pocket and averting your eyes. “I don’t have a job or anything,” you said.

He blinked at you. “Hm? What’re you talking about?”

You rubbed the side of your arm and shrugged. “My family’s kinda poor too. Like, we do fine, but my parents are really serious about money so…,”

“What’s your point?” asked Namjoon with wide, curious brown eyes.

You stared at him for a moment, puzzled, before continuing. “Aren’t you gonna ask for, like, reward money or something?”

He released a booming, chesty laugh before waving his arms like mad and shaking his head. “No! God, do I look like a thug to you?”

You eyed him from top to bottom and shrugged. “I don’t really know what a thug is supposed to look like.”

He sighed and gripped the bridge of his nose between his fingertips. “Forget the money,” he said, pausing to give you a warm smile. “I just wanted to meet the person who made those drawings.”

You went stiffer than a board. For a moment, time stood still. Namjoon froze before you, the gently falling leaves outside the classroom window froze, and you froze too. Like your feet were rooted to the ground.

“You...did you look through it?” you asked softly, too horrified to raise your voice above a bare whisper.

He nodded. “Of course,” he said. “I was looking for a phone number or something on the inside flap, but then I got distracted by the art.”

“You…”

“You’re really talented,” he said, offering another big smile. “Like, you could go pro if you wanted to.”

You swallowed hard, your throat constricting, and chucked the dirty blackboard eraser on the podium with a puff of fine dust. Without another word, you zipped up your backpack and slung it over your shoulders. You walked past him quickly, not even sparing him a glance, and walked faster when he followed you, calling after you and begging you to turn around.

Namjoon followed you around for a month after that: waiting outside your classroom after school, catching you off guard as you sketched in the courtyard during your lunch break, walking his bike behind you as you led the way to the bus stop, cheering for you at the sports festival and causing you to miss the volleyball coming straight for you. Every time he’d come around, you’d turn grey with horror and you wouldn’t say a word. But luckily for you, Namjoon said plenty enough for both of you. It was always, When are you gonna join the drawing club? or, You should start working on a portfolio, or, If you love art so much, why aren’t you applying to an arts college?

You didn’t bother asking how he knew where you were applying. As you’d gotten to know him, you’d begun to understand his uncanny ability to secure sensitive information from teachers. It seemed they all loved him about as much as you despised him. Not long after that comment, you finally began responding when he spoke to you. And you even began bickering like real friends.

After a while, you grew accustomed to him being around all the time. To the point that, when he graduated a year before you and went on to pursue a degree in music, you’d felt almost lonesome without him. And to the point that, when you texted him about your choice to pursue a degree in business, you were almost relieved when he caught the late bus out to your house to scold you.

One day you’re gonna snap, he’d said that night in a moment of calm. You’re gonna finally have enough of living for them. And it’s gonna hurt when it happens. Bad.

But the scolding had never been enough.

Because, in the end, that persistent fear ran like still waters through your body.

You’re realizing more and more that it’s the same fear. That it’s always been the same fear. Back then when you were so scared of losing Hanseul that you considered not even telling him you’d found the messages. In high school when you were too scared to show anyone your sketchbook. Even now, as you straddle the vibrating ATV, Jimin’s arms wrapped lazily around your middle as he giggles behind you, you’re scared to make a single sound for fear of messing up your focus on the hills before you.

If you really think about it, it’s all the same.

When you boil it down to its core, it’s always been the same.

Fear of fucking up.

Like you’ve been walking a tightrope from the start, and any small misstep will result in you plummeting, face first, into the ground below.

Your knuckles go white against your skin as you clutch the handlebars. Stiff, you follow the guide as he vaults over a hill, having no choice but to do the same. You launch your ATV over the sandy bump, sending both you and Jimin flying through the air. And even though a part of you expects to go splat in the dirt, after a few weightless seconds of flight, the two of you return to earth in one piece. This time, it isn’t Jimin’s laughter that startles you.

It’s your own.

“Holy shit!” Namjoon shouts as he runs toward you, face covered in fine dust. He grins at you like you’re his child, and as you slide off the side of the ATV, he sweeps you up in a big hug, laughing. “You did so good!”

You laugh too, patting his flexed bicep, and lean away slightly to get a better look at his dirty face. “God,” you say with a laugh, running the pad of your fingertip along his cheek, leaving behind a stripe of clean skin. “You need a shower, Joon.”

He nods and peels himself away, turning his attention to Jimin behind you. “You don’t look so good,” he remarks with raised brows.

And as you turn to see for yourself, you notice that in fact Jimin doesn’t look so good. Up until then it had been all laughter and smiles and playful squeezes, but now that he was standing in the dirt, arms crossed, leaning back against the ATV with his helmet in his hand, he looked...less than pleased. He watches you and Namjoon with narrowed eyes.

Oh God, you think in a moment of blind panic, I bet he wanted to drive the ATV after all...

But the moment Namjoon approaches and claps his hand against Jimin’s shoulder, the latter perks up and his eyes go bright once more. He turns a grin towards you and offers a big thumbs up. The sky above his waving hair is a perfect blue, and the sun is unrelenting, but somehow his smile is brighter. Carefully, you join the duo and pat the ATV with a sigh. Looking at it now, it doesn’t seem so scary at all. And after all the tips your guide had given throughout the course, you feel ready to do it all again if you get the chance.

Jimin eyes you with a fond smile. “How’d you like it?” he asks.

You hum. “It was...really exhilarating,” you say with a grin. Gently, you reach out your hand for Jimin to shake and without missing a beat he laughs and takes it.

But instead of shaking it, he gives a sharp yank and you go tumbling into his chest. Heart hammering, you struggle to regain your footing, but before you can process what’s going on, Jimin wraps both arms around your back and holds you tight. You’re sure your face reveals your chagrin, so you’re careful to keep it buried in his chest. And although it’s muffled through the fabric of his shirt, you can hear Jimin’s heart thumping quick.

“Thanks for letting me ride with you,” he says quietly against your hair.

You swallow hard, nerves making your hands sweat, and nod once. “Um...yeah, of course.” You can’t help the nervous laugh that escapes your parted lips and, hesitantly, you reach around to pat Jimin’s back with one hand. “It was fun.”

He backs up with a smile, but keeps one hand on your shoulder. “Yeah. Let’s do it again when we get home.”

You laugh again, eyes wide. “Are there ATV courses at home?”

Jimin pauses, purses his lips, and shrugs. “Let’s find out.”

Namjoon snaps his fingers. “Shoot! What time is it?” he asks, brows knitting.

You check the watch around your wrist and squint at it, but it’s hard to focus on anything with Jimin still touching you. “Um...half past two,” you say, brain foggy as Jimin steps closer.

He glances over your shoulder to stare intently at your wristwatch. Easily, he slides his hand along your shoulder blades before letting it rest at the small of your back. You can feel the ends of his hair tickling your hot cheek. He hums a little beside you and nods once, as if he is simply verifying the time. Perhaps he is simply doing that.

“Shoot!” Namjoon exclaims again. “If we don’t leave, like, now we’re gonna be late for snorkeling!”

Without meaning to, you slide your eyes toward Jimin and raise your brows only to find him staring at you with the same expression. The two of you share a knowing look before breaking into small smiles.

“Wouldn’t wanna be late for snorkeling,” Jimin says under his breath as Namjoon jogs back toward the guide, all the while frantically miming with his hands.

You grin. “God forbid.”

Hanseul said something once that really stuck with you. Not the sort of sentimental thing that you thought might’ve stuck with you, but something entirely mundane. Something trivial, something said in passing.

It was a Sunday afternoon. Neither of you had work, so you’d decided to take a nice long drive through the city. The sky was endlessly blue and beautiful, and even though you were just one car in the infinite stream of vehicles on the highway, you felt somehow free. With the windows rolled down all the way and music bumping softly through Hanseul’s car’s speaker, you remember shutting your eyes and just...breathing for a minute. And that was enough.

“Jesus Christ!” Hanseul shouted with a belabored sigh, and your eyes snapped open once more. You were quick to locate the source of his frustration and found, merging into your lane from the right, a massive freight truck. “I will never understand the hubris of semi drivers who think it’s a good idea to pass other semi drivers.”

Settling your racing heart, you sighed and breathed a laugh. “Impatience I guess,” you remarked, but he was prickly beside you and you knew he wasn’t finished.

He scoffed. “As if passing that guy is gonna get him there any faster,” he said, then rolled his eyes and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Everyone should just go their own pace.”

And with that, he stopped talking. And you returned to leaning your head against the passenger doorframe, gazing out at the line of cars entering the highway.

The sun is white hot on your bare skin as you tread water, face bobbing just below the ocean’s surface. Floating like a buoy, you squint into the endless blue to catch a glimpse of some wildlife. It’s not as easy as it looks on Instagram, that much is clear to you now. The waves waves are gentle but restless as they rock you around and the plastic of the snorkel pushes uncomfortably against the sensitive skin of your lips. Your arms and legs are still sore from the previous day’s hike, and now your thighs ache from gripping the ATV. But somehow, despite the hardiness of it all, as you float parallel to the ocean floor, you can’t help but stare with wide-eyed wonder every time a flash of red fin or plume of underwater dust catches your eye. And so, mystified, you swim onward.

You feel someone swim up beside you, but it’s too much labor to look and you can’t tear your eyes away from a particularly beautiful fish cresting over the top of some coral beyond your fingertips. It’s only when that someone taps your shoulder that you finally snap from your daze and, blinking quickly, burst out from beneath the water and shove your snorkel to the side. Fearing catastrophe, you turn gasping toward Jimin as he wades beside you with a grin.

And your heart settles down.

You pat your chest a little and sigh. “Jesus,” you mumble.

“Scared you?” he asks, and from this close it’s hard not to get caught up in the brown of his eyes, in the wet ends of his dark hair as they dangle just above his eyebrows.

With the saltwater and the sunlight kissing his skin, he’s practically glowing.

You shake your head. “What’s up?” you ask.

He points with one finger toward the water below and wiggles his brows. “You wanna go down with me? The instructor said it’s really awesome.”

You stare at him for a long moment, trying to discern any malintent or ulterior motive and, upon gleaning none, settle for a nervous, breathy laugh. “Ah, I dunno…,” you say, rubbing your nose with the side of your finger. You look away, toward Jungkook’s fins as they flap violently against the glassy surface of the water. “I’m happy just looking from up here.”

Jimin hums a little. “You sure?” he asks, eyeing you like he knows something you don’t. “You seemed really into it when I came over.”

You swallow hard and your mouth tastes like seawater and anxiety. “No, I’m…,” you start, but it’s weak. The sentence trails into nothing.

He smiles bright enough to blind and you almost have to shield your eyes. “Come on,” he says, offering his hand toward you. “We’ll go down together and come back up together. I’ll hold your hand the whole time.”

You stare at his outstretched fingers, pruny and slightly sunkissed, and ponder for a moment. Were you always so tepid? So lukewarm? Wasn’t there ever a time in your life when you did things just because they sounded fun? Thinking back, it’s hard to pinpoint the precise moment you became so pragmatic, so afraid. Perhaps when your parents told you a career in art wouldn’t work out for you. That you didn’t have the stuff. Perhaps even before that.

But deep down, buried deeper than you’d like you admit, there’s a part of you that’s always wanted to zipline through the jungle. To ride ATVs. To see the coral up close.

That slumbering part of you is beginning to awaken.

And you wonder as you take Jimin’s hand with an uncertain smile if this has been your pace all along.

He giggles and the two of you dive in unison. You follow the instructions the snorkeling teachers gave you on the boat, and you hold your breath just the way you’re supposed to. Nonetheless, the deeper you swim, the cooler the water becomes and the more your nerves begin to rattle.

Only this time, you don’t find it unpleasant. Not at all, actually.

Because Jimin’s hand is warm.

The two of you coast to a stop in front of the vibrant red coral as a school of orange fish rushes by in a wave. You both reel back for only a moment and then, catching each other’s eyes, exchange the biggest smiles your snorkels allow. And boy is Jimin right. It is awesome. You swear you’ve never seen colors like this. Juxtaposed against the perfect blue all around, the coral reef stands like a mountain underwater, fish flying like birds around the jagged pink peaks, hiding in the deep purple. Anemones wave so close you’re tempted to touch them, and as you lean closer for a better look, you see a red seahorse nestled beside a green sea plant. As if sensing you there, the tiny fish scoots out from its cover and makes its way toward you. Eagerly, you extend your index finger and the creature nudges you just slightly before continuing on its way to the other side of the coral barrier.

Your heart is pounding, racing like a sports car and loud like one too. You turn toward Jimin with eyes blown wide and he’s grinning at you, so fond. He gives your hand a squeeze and you can’t help but squeeze back. Wordlessly, he jerks his head toward the surface, and the way the water plays with his hair makes it look like silk. You’re distracted for a moment by how beautiful it is, how beautiful he is, but he squeezes your hand again and once more jerks his chin upward. Ah! You need air!

You only realize it as Jimin makes a motion toward the surface, but now that you’re conscious of it it’s all you can think of. Quickly, the two of you begin kicking in unison toward where the water breaks way and, as you pop out from below, the two of you gasp a little while catching your breath. Wasting not a single second, you rip your snorkel off and shove your goggles up against your hairline. Grinning so wide it hurts, you smack Jimin’s shoulder.

“That was--!! It was--!!” you begin, but you can’t even finish your sentence.

Jimin laughs, that one laugh that sounds like bells, and his eyes nearly vanish as he smiles. “Right?” he asks.

You nod, clapping your hand against your cheek. “God! Did you see that seahorse?!”

“I did!”

“Wasn’t it--?!”

“It was!”

You laugh, exhilarated, and stare down at the distorted coral reef below your feet, warped by the shifting water. Your heart is a hammer in your chest. “Jimin!” you exclaim, not knowing quite what else to say.

He laughs. “Yeah!”

You turn to him, sincerely this time as the adrenaline slowly drains from your body, and meet his half-shut eyes. You realize with a start that you’re still holding his hand quite tight. And he’s making no move to change that. Gently, you squeeze.

“Thank you,” you say, and it’s all you can say really.

Drifting together in the middle of the ocean, two dots floating in the blue expanse, there’s something both completely insignificant and totally profound about it all. You can’t name it, but the sensation in your chest feels like when you finally get the water out of your ear after a day at the pool. Like something got dislodged.

And as Jimin looks at you with that bright smile, you smile back. “I’m glad you came,” he says gently.

And it’s honest.

Almost honest enough to make you forget the things he said when you first met.

“Why’d you say all that stuff at the bar back home?” you manage to ask over the sound of Hoseok laughing nearby.

You glance over to where Hoseok and Jungkook swim chatting away, much like you and Jimin.

Only they aren’t holding hands.

Jimin’s hand goes a little tight and he clears his throat. “Uh...well,” he begins, but before he can continue, Namjoon pops up from below the water right beside you.

You scream in surprise and smack the top of his head with your snorkel, but Namjoon only laughs and gives you a splash. “What’re you guys doing? There’s a whole ocean down there!” he asks, but when his eyes travel sideways toward Jimin, his expression changes. Like a nervous dog.

You look too and see Jimin looks...well, pretty mad. You can’t put your finger on it, but it’s like there’s some tension between Jimin and Namjoon today. A sense of competition perhaps? It’s hard to say. But as you stare at Jimin now, his brow is low and his jaw is clenched and he quietly slips his hand from yours.

You’re not expecting to be sitting beside legendary producer Min Yoongi on a rattling motor boat in the middle of the ocean, but here you are. Life is funny that way, you suppose as the two of you jostle against one another. Shoulder-to-shoulder you sit like students on a field trip, neither one saying much of anything at all. As the sun begins its lazy descent across the sky, you’re stranded, sunburnt, returning to shore after a long afternoon with the fish.

You glance around for someone to save you, to perhaps sweep you up in one of the several shouting conversations being held around you on all sides, but your eyes can’t seem to snag anyone else’s. Well, besides Namjoon who eagerly widens his own and gives you that big dumb smile that somehow has become bigger and dumber since arriving on the island. Even Jimin won’t look at you and is, in fact, sulking at the end of the rows of benches, gazing out at the trail of sunset leaking out across the water like a golden road. Perhaps he’s wondering, like you, what it might be like to walk on it.

Or perhaps he’s mad at you.

Your heart sinks.

You can’t place it, but he doesn’t seem himself. After sliding his hand from inside yours, he’d swum away from you and Namjoon to begin chatting with Yoongi. It’s not easy to make a show of being mad when you’re treading water in the middle of the sea, but he managed. As goofy as it was to watch him doggie-paddle away in a huff, part of you worried that you’d somehow set him off. Like you’d activated that part of him from the night you met, the angry, bitter part that he’s been holding in the entire trip so far.

But what could you have done?

Nothing, as far as you’re concerned. He’s neither a friend nor a lover. He’s just…someone you know through Namjoon. Just a cursory orbiter in your solar system. You barely think about him when you’re apart.

Well…you used to.

Now, as you watch him watching the water, it’s all you can do not to stand up on wobbly sea legs and stumble over to him with crossed arms and demand he tell you what’s wrong. And, more disturbingly, now as you watch him watching the water, there’s a strange, sickly sweet part of you that wants to sit beside him and press the bare skin of your thigh against his.

“He’s just moody,” Yoongi says from beside you, the first words he’s spoken to you during the entirety of this trip.

Your eyes go wide and you turn only your head — it’s the only part of you that’s not squished between him and the inside of the boat — to look at him. Pale and pretty, Yoongi is watching Jimin too. But with a considerably less troubled expression than your own. He slides his eyes toward you and offers a small, barely there smile.

“You’re worried, right?” he continues.

You think for a moment, think about lying, but the motor on this boat is far too loud for anyone else to hear your conversation and besides…it sounds like Yoongi’s got some information on Jimin that you want to know.

Not that you like him or anything.

You nod. “Yeah, a little. Things were really cool all day today, but…,” you begin, then sigh and shrug. “Seems like maybe he doesn’t like me much.”

Yoongi scoffs. “Doubt that,” he says, then rolls his eyes like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, whatever he’s thinking.

Only it’s not obvious. You have no idea what’s going on in that genius brain of his, and the way he eyes you sidelong let’s you know he’s not going to tell you. Not easily anyway.

So you sigh and rest your cheek in your hand. “I just think he hates me,” you continue, doubling down, hoping that circumnavigation will get you to the treasure.

Yoongi cocks a brow. “He definitely doesn’t hate you,” he says, and there’s something in the word ‘definitely’ that sounds like he’s hiding something inside it.

“We were having such a nice time,” you go on, feigning a heavy sigh, “but then poof. Like nothing even happened. I think I made him mad.”

“If you’re trying to get me to gossip about my friend, I’ll tell you right now,” Yoongi begins, then leans toward you with a conspiratorial smirk, “all you had to do was ask.”

Your eyes alight and you grin. “Really?”

“Jimin’s scoping you out,” Yoongi says, nodding once like again it’s obvious. “He’s testing the waters.”

“Why?”

“Duh,” he says with a laugh. “He’s interested in you. Has been since we all met at the bar.”

You stiffen. Interested? You can’t really fathom it. Someone like him, a bona fide and self admitted heart breaker, is interested in you? Perhaps you’ve been dating too many Hanseuls but the thought of a Jimin being interested in you is inconceivable.

“How’d you know?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.

He smiles and shakes his head. “We’ve been friends for ages now. I know when he’s interested in someone,” he says. He pauses, glances at Jimin only to find him now staring with wide eyes at the two of you. Like you’re sharing secrets. Which…you suppose now that you are. “He doesn’t always know though.”

“Really?” you ask, meeting Jimin’s worried eyes from across the boat. You offer a smile, almost like a white flag, which he doesn’t reciprocate.

“He’s been through bad relationships in the past. You know how that goes, from what Namjoon says,” Yoongi pauses to laugh.

You go hot. You didn't known Namjoon had made your relationship information public domain. You’ll have to have a word with him soon. “From the way he talked at the bar, sounds like he’s the one who puts other people through bad relationships.”

“No, that’s a recent development,” says Yoongi, nodding. “He wasn’t always like that. Used to be a really attentive guy, but…I dunno. You get burned one too many times and you start doing the burning I guess.”

You cock a brow. “Is that right?” you ask, and plead with your unreasonable heart to stop pounding like mad in your chest. Why are you so excited to learn about him? “Seems like a real player.”

“Who still uses that word?” Yoongi teases with a laugh and you’re surprised by just how often he laughs. “Anyway, no. He only seems that way. He’s actually, like…really possessive and jealous. Kinda what self destructed his last real relationship.”

“No way,” you say, recalling what he’d said that night.

If you get hurt you’re the one whose expectations were too high.

Was that advice for me or for himself? I turn to look at Jimin only to find him with that same nervousness etched into his features. He swipes his tongue along his bottom lip and knits his brows. You don’t know what exactly he’s so afraid of, don’t know what sort of relationship has warped him so badly, but you’re certain that this anxious, worried Jimin is the real one.

And so is the one who helped you at the zipline on the first day.

And so is the one who held your hand underwater.

And so is the one who is still giving you the silent treatment.

You understand better than anyone that emotional trauma manifests in many ways. For you, it was burning your first easel and giving your paints away to your cousin back in high school. For you, it was getting a boring office job to make your parents proud. For you it was dating Hanseul after Hanseul expecting it to be different.

It’s never different.

But there’s one thing you know for sure: Park Jimin is very, very different.

The Fijian bar is packed to the nines with tourists from all walks of life. Some tall, burly men in Hawaiian shirts — somehow simultaneously on brand and horrendously off brand for Fiji —, a few couples kissing and toughing over margaritas, a bachelorette party — who can afford a bachelorette party to Fiji? — and a whole hosts of other guests flood the scene. It doesn’t seem like Namjoon’s cup of tea, however, and it isn’t yours either. Not really. You prefer lively dive bars with questionable clientele and cheap drinks over tourist traps like this. But as they hand you your cocktail in a plastic tiki mug, you decide perhaps the campiness isn’t that bad. Especially as you take your first sip and realize they pour as heavy here as they do back home.

Jimin’s still boycotting you, and you don’t even bother wondering why. Different is alluring, it’s enchanting, it’s intriguing…

But it’s still dangerous.

And besides, once you leave this island and the magic spell breaks, you’ll see everything more clearly. Jimin included.

And so you’re boycotting him too.

Eagerly, you stand smushed between Yoongi and Jungkook as the fire dancers — is fire dancing even Fijian? — take the floor with an artistic flair. The crowd is electric, excited, and extremely drunk as you all chant for the dancers to take the stage. (Really, is fire dancing Fijian at all?) Jungkook grabs your shoulder and shakes it, causing you to both jump and laugh at the same time, and the three of you stand under the glow of the lanterns hanging on strings overhead. If you look up, you almost mistake them for stars.

As the dancers begin their performance, you cheer with all your chest, and you feel someone press close behind you. You can tell from the firmness of his chest that it’s Namjoon, staring over your shoulder at the stage. It’s hard to get a good view, especially with everyone so drunk, so you lean back and tilt your head out of his way. One hand drapes over your other shoulder as the other nurses his drink and you chat easily with Namjoon despite the physical proximity.

You two may as well have been siblings, anyway.

Had Jimin been that close to you…

Well, you try not to think of that as you work your swirly straw between your teeth.

“Pretty cool,” Namjoon says, but you catch the way his voice sounds just a little listless.

You turn slightly to face him with a grin and, poking his cheek where his dimple would be if he smiled, you giggle. Oh boy, you’re drunk. “I know you’d rather be dancing in caves or fishing for eels, but this can be fun too!”

Namjoon relents with a smile and swats your hand away. “You’re right,” he says easily, sighing as he rests close behind you. “Although fishing for eels sounds really cool.”

You smack his leg with the back of your hand and he responds with laughter. “You know, eels are actually-,”

“Hey,” says a voice you hardly recognize, a voice belonging to Jimin. Only when he speaks now it’s so low and deep in his chest it doesn’t sound like him at all.

You didn’t notice, but he’s taken up Jungkook’s spot at your left and he’s staring at you, all wrapped up in Namjoon, like you’ve committed a horrible crime. For all you know, you have. Nonetheless, you’re too drunk to be too worried and you give him a bright smile and a wave with your drink-less hand.

He edges closer, skin electric as he presses against your side. “You’re smashed,” he remarks, like it’s news.

You laugh. “Mhm!”

He furrows his brow. “You sure you’re good to stay out here?”

“I’m watching, don’t worry,” Namjoon offers with a well-meaning smile.

But this only serves to make Jimin bristle further. He stares at you two like you’re a disfigured monster, two conjoined bodies linked from chest to back, a horrible science experiment gone wrong. And you can’t decide what mixture of emotions is dancing in his dark, heavy eyes but you know it’s no good.

“Alright then,” Jimin says with a sharp nod. “I won’t worry anymore.”

Only you want him to worry. If you’re being honest with yourself — which you are now because he’s right, you’re smashed — you want him to do more than worry. You want him to take your hand and hold it tight. You want him to press his lips against yours in the hallway by the bathrooms. You want his hands on your hips, then on your legs, then—

Well…

Jimin turns around to skulk back to the bar and you let him. Things are spinning and they’re getting too intense too fast. That’s the difference between A Jimin and A Hanseul. That’s the devastating difference. Where Hanseul adds stability, constancy, a bland sort of expectation, Jimin adds…

Excitement.

Perhaps it’s the old artist in you, the one you push down so fervently you often wonder if it’s died in there, but the idea both entrances you and terrifies you in equal measure. So you stay leaning back against Namjoon’s chest, swaying as you watch the fire dancers dazzle and delight, and watch out the corner of your eye as Jimin begins chatting with a particularly attractive blond tourist at the bar.

You pretend not to notice Jimin’s hand on the stranger’s thigh.

The next morning the stranger’s in your Airbnb. You’re the first one awake, having had a wicked headache as soon as you opened your eyes, and as you stare blankly into your coffee mug you hear footsteps coming almost bashfully from down the hallway. Nobody else is around in the living room. Just you, your coffee, and the footsteps. Squinting, you watch as the stranger, not even registering your presence, tiptoes down toward the kitchen and rifles through the fridge. Watching carefully, you almost laugh at the way the stranger picks up each fruit, inspects it, and puts it back before settling for a yogurt.

“Sleeping over and stealing food?” you remark, and you mean for the comment to sound teasing and playful. But it comes out bitter. Sincere.

The stranger lets out a particularly sharp scream before turning to you and dropping the yogurt onto the countertop. “Oh! Uh…shit…I’m…sorry I’ll just…go…now, uh…”

You can feel the awkwardness rising in the room, the sense of intimate dislike coming from both of you — mostly you. And before you can say another word, the stranger is gone, having shuffled like a raccoon caught mid-trash-heist out the front door with a click. You sigh, grip your nose bridge, and shake your head.

“Wow,” says Jimin from the hallway, leaning against the wall with crossed arms and a frown. “Very mature.”

You roll your eyes. “You know it’s not that kind of trip and you still brought a stranger over,” you say, then look at him square. You’re both fuming. “At least vet the people you sleep with to make sure they’re not thieves.”

“It was breakfast,” he says. “Jesus Christ, you’re so stiff.”

Your body goes cold. Who is this new person in Jimin’s skin? Gone is the warm, comforting man who’d helped you day in and day out. In his place was someone new, someone off-putting. You clench your jaw. “Yeah well at least I don’t invite randos over to a shared Airbnb.”

“God,” he groans, lolling his head back like you exhaust him. “Do you ever get tired of being such a fucking stick in the mud?”

You feel your spine stiffen and set your mug of coffee aside. “Pardon me?”

“Like, does it ever get tiring?” he repeats, rolling his beautiful eyes, giving a cruel smirk. You hate that those beautiful lips can curve so wickedly. “Oh, I can’t do it! Oh, I’ll just stay back! Oh, I don’t even like painting,” he says with a dramatic mimicry of your own voice.

How does he know about the painting?

Namjoon…

Your throat constricts. “I’m trying, Jimin,” you say, but your voice comes out thick, labored. Because it’s not true. Because you’re not trying. Not in the real world. Not when you leave this island.

If you keep talking to him, you’ll cry for sure.

Just like before.

He laughs. “Trying?”

“At least I give enough of a shit to try at all!” you snap, and you expect regret to seep into your chest immediately, but it doesn’t come.

Jimin seems taken aback. He cocks a brow. “What’re you saying?”

“At least I’m still brave enough to care,” you continue, standing to your feet and brushing past him. You pause beside him and fix him with a hard glare. “Don’t talk to me again,” you say, and you spit the final word, “ever.”

And he doesn’t. Not as the pack travels through town and picks up little trinkets. Not while you stick practically glued to Namjoon’s side through alleyways and along crowded streets. Not during the night hike or the cave exploring or the picnic on the cliff. Not for days.

Not at all.

And you’re relieved, you think, that he’s respecting your request at least.

But you’re also burdened so heavily it’s like weights on your chest all the time. Because when you happen to meet his eyes, in the instant before you both look away, you see a fresh sort of hurt and you know it’s you who inflicted it this time. You know you touched on something too sensitive. And just because he poked at your open wound doesn’t mean you had a right to poke at his. There’s a vulnerable sort of awareness between you two, awareness of each other. So as you avoid touching the exposed skin of his shoulder with your hand while reaching for a necklace at a street vendor, or as you sweep a hand out in the darkness of the cave, seeking purchase, and nearly grab his forearm, the two of you are quick to repel like magnets.

You sit on a surfboard now, and the moon makes a road of light along the water just as the sun had. It’s the middle of the night, and you’re straddling both sides of the board as the waves rock you back and forth. And you tilt and you sway and you shut your eyes. A few weeks ago you’d have winced at the idea of floating out in the water at night, feet dangling over the expanse of ocean nothing below that extends who knows how far. You’d have called yourself crazy.

Maybe you are crazy.

Maybe that’s a good thing.

You open your eyes and see that road of light. Namjoon told you once that the Swedes have a word for it. Mångata. He told you that last night as the two of you sat on the beach. You’d been doing that lately, too uncomfortable to spend much time in the Airbnb with Jimin lurking about in the shadows and the walls and the scent of the pillows. He’s practically everywhere in there, even when he’s gone.

Namjoon also told you he thinks something’s wrong with Jimin. Something’s shaken him up.

You told him you didn’t care.

And he didn’t tell you anything more.

You kind of wish he would have.

Jimin hasn’t brought home any more strays, not since you and him had your monumental blowout. And while you’re glad he’s respecting you and the others more, you’re also worried. More worried than that day on the boat. More worried than that night at the bar.

Because you see it too. What Namjoon sees. Something is wrong.

Jimin floats several feet away, breaking the mångata into shards of displaced moonlight. He’s a silhouette, small and dark, but outlined by glowing silver. He’s beautiful, even from so far away. Especially from so far away. Ethereal. His head bobs a little and he smiles as he chats with Jungkook and Hoseok. But the smile isn’t all the way there. Even so, it’s lovely. Perhaps because he’s the only one in the road of moonlight, or perhaps because even a halfway ghost of a smile is beautiful if it’s Jimin.

For a painful, blissful moment, almost too short to note, almost too fleeting to feel, you have the irresistible urge to paint it. The road of moonlight, the mångata, leading right from the heavens to Jimin. Shattering like glass, the moonlight breaks behind his board. But he’s suspended in it.

You might cry again just looking at it.

You’re sure you’re all choked up. Night surfing shouldn’t make you cry. But you can’t help it. It’s like your art teacher said, like glimpsing sublimity. It’s torment, staring at it, knowing you can’t paint it and even if you could…you wouldn’t do it. You know your face reveals it all. It always does. And you know that if Namjoon so much as peeks at you, he’ll know you’re about to cry.

Not that he did the night you first met Jimin at the bar. In fact, the only person who seemed to realize you were near to tears that night was-

Jimin seizes your wandering, teary eyes. They lock on hard, like a vice grip, and hold tight. The moonlight’s on you, at least from where Jimin sits on his board, and you’re close enough to make out his features so you know he can make out yours. His eyes go wide like he knows and you know he knows for sure now because he’s paddling with his hands for rudders toward you which makes you panic for real and spin wildly around toward the shore.

You paddle and paddle like mad until your toes touch sand and you abandon your surfboard in the crashing waves forgetting it’s attached to you by your ankle. So you drag the surfboard behind you as the surf tries to drag it back. You know you can easily remove the ankle band and carry the surfboard like a normal person, but God you can’t seem to manage actually doing it because your heart is racing and you feel as if Jimin has unwittingly seen an extremely, horribly, heat-achingly intimate moment.

“Wait!” he calls, breathless, mere yards behind you despite you head start.

You’re crying in earnest now, sobbing as you fight with the cord tethering you to your board, tethering you to that moment on the waves. It’s like you and the surfboard are becoming one thing; you’re completely helpless to the whims of the ocean as it tears you back and spits you out. The tip of the foam board keeps rocking against the sand before the whole thing gets yanked out again and, frustrated, you finally bend down too late to disconnect yourself. But by the time you and the surfboard are once again separate entities, Jimin has run up behind you and is standing, panting, with his surfboard against his hip.

Your tears fall right off your chin and into the water around your ankles before they disappear on the receding wave. An ocean of stars is splayed out overhead, but you can’t even lift your eyes to see it, hands braced on both your knees, sobbing.

And this is the moment.

The moment you finally snap.

And when it happens, it does hurt. Bad.

Because Jimin was never really just Jimin, not really. He was more than that to you, represented more than that. He was the easel you burned. He was the art college brochure you hid from your parents. He was the job listing you saw as an apprentice painter three weeks before going on this trip. He was every missed opportunity, every chance you rejected. He was all of it wrapped into one pretty package.

And he’s staring at you.

You manage to wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, but it’s not enough to stop the tears. It’s as if a valve has broken in you that can’t be fixed until everything’s been spilled out of it. An old valve too. As old as you.

“Shit,” he says, like it’s a catchphrase.

You sniffle. “You said that before too,” you choke out through sobs. “At the bar back home.”

He looks at you horrified for a moment before shaking his head. “I know, I…I just…sometimes I do and say things that just fucking suck, you know? Like they just…,” he says, tormented, as he rakes his fingers through his sea slick hair. “Like I can’t help it. It just comes out.”

“Because you’re hurt,” you say, still crying, nearly incoherent.

And his eyes snap back to your splotchy face with the kind of intensity that sets things on fire. “Huh?”

You nod. “That’s why you like me, right?” you ask, sniffling as you struggle to stand upright. “Because I’m hurt too. Hurt people find each other.”

Jimin is still and silent as stone before slowly, he touches a hand to his cheek and keeps it there. “I…it’s not like I’m hurt,” he says. “Just…that my first real relationship ended badly.”

“Yoongi told me,” you say, finally in control of your rapid breathing. “A little.”

Jimin stiffens before, like a rock, collapsing on the ground with his feet halfway in the waves’ path. Not knowing what else to do, you join him. “I thought we’d be together for life, you know? Like…I really believed that.”

You think back to Hanseul. Did you ever feel that way about him? “Mhm,” is all you can choke out.

“But…you know, things fall apart. I guess I was…I was expecting too much without giving all of myself,” he begins, nodding once as he wiped the space beneath his eyes. “Like you said. Half of me.”

“Did your ex say that to you?” you ask carefully, minding each syllable as you forced them out.

He nods. “Just like that too. You’re only giving me half of you and expecting all of me in return,” he repeats, sighing. “That’s why I did it!” he imitates.

“Did what?”

He’s quiet, and you know now why he was so hard on you at the bar. Why he’d known exactly where your weak points were. Because they were his weak points too.

“Why are you crying?” he asks finally, the elephant on the beach.

You swallow hard, the tears having slowed enough to see properly. Enough to see all your friends enjoying the surf and the moonlight. “Because it just…hit me,” you say slowly. “All at once, with no warning at all. It…hit me for real.”

“Is it because we’re leaving soon?”

You shake your head. “That’s not what I mean.” He’s quiet and you know he’s waiting for you to continue. You’re waiting too, if you’re being honest. To find the words. To understand it. “I mean…all of it. The entire crushing culmination of everything I’ve ever not accomplished.” You pause, watch your hands as they lace and unlace. “I think I get why Joon wanted us to come out here.”

“I was jealous,” Jimin admits. More like blurts, because the way he looks now once you meet his eyes is like he didn’t mean to say it. He’s blushing like crazy and he’s got a feral look in his eye. You await his next admission. “Of you and Namjoon. Even though it’s stupid. Even though we…you and me…we aren’t…”

You blink at him. “We aren’t what?”

“We aren’t anything.”

“Who says?”

He stares at you for a long moment. “Then you and Namjoon?”

You shake your head. “Good friends.”

“I…well shit,” he says again, a mantra. He rubs his forehead. “I’m stupid.”

“Yeah.”

“Just…you kinda reminded me what it was like to, like…,” he begins, tossing the words around in his mouth like they still aren’t right, “like feel butterflies, you know?” He shrugs. “To wanna show up for someone. To wanna try.”

You stiffen. It seems the two of you had a propensity for finding each other’s Achilles heel. You’d pinned him as well as he’d pinned you. “I…,” you begin, but there’s nothing you can say. Nothing you can do.

Well…

There is one thing.

But that one thing would change everything. Not just between you and Jimin, but between you and you. Between who you try to be and who you are. Between the life you’ve told yourself to be happy with and the life you want, the life you need.

This one thing…

It’s going to take more than a little courage.

If you’re feeling really nervous, I’ve heard it helps to shut your eyes and count to ten. Like, tell yourself you’re definitely gonna do it once you reach ten and just…go.

One.

He’s staring at you with stars reflected in his eyes.

Two.

Your heart is racing.

Three.

Your palms are itchy in the sand.

Four.

But he’s looking at you, looking like he really sees you.

Five.

Hanseul never looked at you like that.

Six.

Nobody ever looked at you like that.

Seven.

He’s red, his whole face.

Eight.

You’re shaking.

Nine.

Don’t you want to paint it?

Ten.

You lean forward on your hip and, without a word, press your lips agains his. They’re soft, every bit as soft as you imagined and softer, and his skin yields against your light touch. You shuffle closer and so does he, hand snaking around your waist to rest on your lower back, head tilting to deepen the kiss. There’s no teeth-clashing, no cataclysm. There’s a tenderness that only comes from understanding, and it’s warm pressed against him. He draws you closer, holds you by the waist now, you arms around his neck and hands lacing through his saltwater hair. He tastes like ocean, like coconut and sunscreen and salt. And his skin it hot beneath your fingertips, flaming practically. You can’t stop inching closer and closer until—

He pulls away for a breath, eyes wide and so close your noses touch. “Shit,” he exhales, only this time the word feels nice.

And you don’t know what this means or what you’ll do when you get home, but you know you’ve got to quit your job. And you know you’ve got to dust off your easel. And you know, most definitely, that you’ve got to kiss Park Jimin again.

And so you do.

Again.

And again.

And one more time for good measure.

And as you pull away, breathless, your eyes lock and he smiles just a little. “Does this mean I can talk to you again?” he asks.

You shove him lightly by the chest only for him to pull the two of you back together again like magnets, only this time you don’t repel. He smiles so bright it eclipses the moon and, without moving, without breathing, you ask, “Can I paint you?”

153 notes · View notes