#i fucking hate drawing vehicles

[reverend-meat]

dumb dumb dumb doodles

young auron + goggles + bike

[zedif-y]

there is nothing that can quite evoke the amount of emotions you get from a heart to heart in a car.

that being said, there is also nothing that can quite evoke the amount of RAGE you get from trying to DRAW a car-

[snekdood]

So many tarot readers on yt are poisoned by cultrual christanity. All the divine feminine shit and snakes being a symbol for something Bad shit and then its so weird when they both embrace egyptian shit and then also pray to "God" and constantly talk about praising their One True God like ma'am. Who are you. What is this. Whats going on here.

[munch-mumbles]

(dehydrated starving voice) weep. i miss weep i need weep..................

[number1mingyustan]

hihi !! I love your fics sm. <3

If you're taking requests can you do Mingyu as a biker bf? What if you wanna learn how to ride a bike and he says "you should practice on the biker first." OMFGGG IM CRAZY. Love you

boyfriend!mingyu x fem!reader

warnings: established relationship, cursing, kissing, explicit smut, oral (f+m), sixty-nine, unprotected sex, creampie, riding, light breast play, multiple orgasms

_______________________________________________

Mingyu nibbles on his bottom lip as his eyes remain fixated on the easel in front of him. He's concentrating, hand moving slowly as he drags the brush along the canvas.

You smile to yourself, feeling your heart warm at the sight of him.

Painting is not his thing.

Even with all the effort he seems to be putting into his painting, his lines are crooked and a little messy. He knows this too, he's never really been one for the arts.

Painting is one of your hobbies and always has been. You're more of the artistic type and Mingyu well... Mingyu likes his bikes. He's got more of a grunge sort of vibe that consists of leather jackets, obnoxious motorcycles, and cigarettes.

You were polar opposites. You preferred your quiet life in the arts, sundresses, walks in flower fields, and painting. You've noticed the way he's softened up since you two met, you're sure it's the effect you've had on him.

He sticks his tongue out, drawing his last two strokes before dropping the paintbrush into the cup. "Done."

You turn your head, completely facing him. You eyes scan over the painting in front of him and your smile grows. "Gyu you've gotten so good at this."

He grins at the praise. "Learned from the best."

The painting in front of him is simple, a landscape of a beach sunset. There's not nearly as much detail as the reference photo in front of you two, but it's undeniably solid work, especially for a beginner like your boyfriend.

He leans over, planting a kiss onto your cheek. His eyes can't help but drift to your painting as he does so.

"Oh wow," His jaw slacks open.

He admires your painting. Even though the two of you painted the same thing, yours is exponentially better. He loves how talented you are, and you never fail to impress him.

________________

When Mingyu comes home the next evening, he expects to see you. You're usually in the living room or the bedroom. He searches the house for you, checking every room to no avail.

He frowns. He saw your car parked out front, so he knows you're here.

A loud sound suddenly catches his attention. He makes his way toward the source of the sound, walking downstairs into the garage.

"Fuck!" You exclaim, racing to the aid of the bike.

You struggle to hold the heavy vehicle up as it remains tilted inside the garage. Your boyfriend saves the day, rushing to your side and helping you to lift the bike up to its proper stature.

"Sorry," You apologize quickly. "I swear I was being careful!"

Your words are muffled. He looks at you with confusion written over his face. You're wearing black leggings and a tight-fitting black zip up. It's unusual attire for you.

Not to mention his entirely large helmet is covering your head.

"What are you doing?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

"I wanna learn how to ride it," You say.

"What?" He asks.

You pull the oversized helmet off of your head and place it under your arm. You huff out.

"I wanna learn how to ride it," You move your hair out of your face. "I was trying to surprise you."

"You hate bikes, babe," He lets out a breathy laugh, taking the helmet out of your hands.

"I've had a change of heart," You insist.

He raises an eyebrow. "Why so suddenly?"

"Well... I don't know. When we were painting it made me realize how much you've embraced my hobbies and stuff. I wanna embrace the stuff you like too," You explain. "So teach me.... please?"

Oh you're adorable, He thinks to himself.

"That's very sweet Y/n," He grins. "But it's okay."

You cross your arms over your body. "But.."

"If you really wanna get into my hobbies, we can find another one baby," He kisses your forehead. "But taking my bike is extremely dangerous and it's probably good that I caught you."

"I know," You say.

You lean against the bike, staring at the vehicle with a glint of sadness behind your eyes. You trace your fingers along the metal of the bike, admiring your boyfriend's precious vehicle.

He places the helmet down. "You know, if you wanna learn that bad, you should practice on the biker first."

It takes a second for his words to settle into your brain. You lean against the bike and raise an eyebrow. "Gyu?"

He walks closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulls you in close. You can feel his breath fanning over your skin, causing goosebumps to raise. His lips press against the shell of your ear.

"Come upstairs," He whispers against your ear. "I'll teach you whatever you want to know."

You intertwine your fingers with his. He pulls your body back into the house and leads you upstairs.

"You're so cute," He smiles. He presses his lips to yours. "I love doing the things you love.... love you." He says between kisses.

He lifts you up and carries you into his bedroom. He places your body down on the bed and pulls off his shirt. His toned body is exposed, muscles bulging beneath his warm skin as he looks at you with hungry eyes.

His back meets the bed with a small thump and he pulls your body on top of him. Your hips meet his and he lets out a soft groan. You pull off your own shirt and drop it onto the ground. You grind against his hips slowly. He unzips your jacket and pulls it off your body.

His hand snakes around the back of your neck and he pulls you into a passionate kiss. He moans against your lips as you continue to grind against his hardening cock.

You can feel him growing beneath you. His cock swells in the confines of his jeans, causing you to moan as you grind down on his growing length. Heat rushes between your thighs and the aching need for pleasure grows in your body.

You pull away from the heated kiss and sit up. You pull your shirt over your head and Mingyu sits up too. He kisses up your stomach and continues to grind against you needily as you unhook your bra. You let it fall and his lips immediately travel to your breasts.

He holds you by your hips as his lips wrap around your nipple. He sucks on your skin, ensuring to give both your breasts the same amount of attention. Your skin burns at the feeling of his touch. Be it his lips on your chest or his hands on your waist, it ignites something in you.

But as much as you love it, you quickly grow impatient. You lift your hips and pull your underwear and leggings off in one go. You toss them and start undoing Mingyu's black jeans.

"C'mre," He says, pulling at your legs.

He lifts your legs and flips you over so he can taste you. He wraps your legs around his head and immediately starts sucking on your clit.

"Fuck.." You moan out.

Your grip on his jeans quickly grows weak as pleasure clouds your senses. You try to undo the buttons, but the feeling of his tongue on you is highly distracting.

He sucks on your clit, occasionally lapping his tongue through your folds. The pleasure builds in the pit of your stomach quickly. You're finding it difficult to do anything, squirming and grinding against his face.

He holds his hands on either side of your thighs, holding you in place as he devours you. He moans against you, nearly enjoying it almost as much as you are.

You finally get him undressed and return the favor. You take his hard cock in your hand, stroking his length and spreading the precum from his leaking tip.

He moans against you again, allowing his eyes to fall shut as relief washes over him. He keeps his focus on you, pushing two of his fingers into your soaked hole.

You take his cock into your mouth, moaning around his length as you feel his fingers fill you up. He sucks your clit and his digits pump into you, and the vibrations from his moaning quickly have you nearing the edge.

His cock repeatedly hits the back of your throat as you stroke his length, bobbing your head to make him feel equally as good as you do.

You find down against his face with little to no coordination. Your hips move desperately, chasing your incoming orgasm as your saliva coats the entire length of his cock.

He curls his fingers into you and pumps them at a faster pace. His face is coated with your arousal and he slurps it up gladly, wrapping his lips around your clit and circling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

You lift your head, crying out as your orgasm overwhelms you. You grind against his face and fingers as you cum, continuing to drip onto his face.

"Hah-shit," You moan out.

His cock still remains in the grip of your hand, leaking more precum as he tastes you on his tongue.

When you come down from your high, his hands are quickly on your body. He pulls your body flush against his, kissing you sloppily and needily.

He is so obsessed with you and everything about you. His hands wander along your skin, tracing over every inch of your body gently. He lays on his back, pulling you back on top of him without breaking the kiss.

You're the one to pull away, lifting your hips on his lap. He leans back, allowing you to take over.

You sink down onto his length, groaning at the stretch of his cock. He holds you by the hips, guiding you down on his cock. The warmth of your pussy envelopes him perfectly, dripping down his length as you accommodate his length.

"So good baby," He moans.

Your eyes are screwed shut as you sink down, only tightening as he fills you up bit by bit. You gasp out once your hips meet, feeling the entirety of his length inside of you.

"Fuck...holy fuck–" You grip the bedsheets.

You start moving your hips slowly, still getting used to the feeling of fullness. He's patient with you, guiding your hips with soft hands and gentle movements.

You start to pick up a steady rhythm, lifting your hips and sinking down onto his length. You roll your hips with each movement, allowing his cock to fill you up and reach deep into you.

It feels so fucking good.

He watches you with love and lust clouding his eyes. His gaze is locked in on you, admiring how beautiful you look right now. Your mouth hangs open as loud moans pass through your lips.

Your body is dripping with sweat and your tits are bouncing in his face every time you lift your hips and sink back down onto his length. The stretch of pussy is addictive, sending waves of pleasure through his cock and entire body.

He sits up, resting his hand on the small of your back. Your hands wrap around his back, nails digging into his skin as your chests press together.

He lifts his hips, matching your pace as he fucks himself into you. You cry out, lips pressed against his shoulder. The feeling is intense and addictive and incredibly intimate.

His cheeks are flushed red and sweat glistens down his face and abs. His hair falls perfectly on his face and you can't help but admire him. His mouth remains in a small 'O' shape, allowing small moans and grunts and groans of pleasure to ring in your ears.

"Fuck baby," He moans. "I'm close."

His head tilts back, exposing his adam's apple to your line of sight. He continues to thrust into you, cock pressing against the sweet spot deep inside of you with every movement of his hips.

"Hah-me too," You pant.

The pleasure continues to grow, eventually overwhelming your entire body. You cry out and your body falls limp against him. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, moaning and breathing heavily as you cum around his cock.

Your pussy throbs, tightening around his length and bringing about his own orgasm. His hips still and his cock swells as he fills you with his load.

He lets out a long groan as he pumps his load into you. Your chests rise and fall in unison as you breathe heavily and come down from your orgasms. You lift your head and cup his cheeks with your soft hands.

His vision clears and his eyes meet yours. He flashes you a grin. "Hi baby."

You return his expression with a shy smile. "Hi Gyu."

He presses his forehead against yours and plants a kiss on your lips. "I love you, pretty girl."

"Love you more," You grin.

"Impossible," He smiles.

His hands hold your hips as he lifts you up. You wince at the emptiness and and lays you down on the bed. He presses a kiss onto your bellybutton and stands to his feet.

He disappears into the bathroom and you hear the bathwater running. He comes back a few minutes later and picks you up bridal style. You wrap your arms around him happily and he carries you to the tub. He slips into the warm water behind you, leaving soft kisses on your shoulder and back.

"Baby," he says.

"Hmm?" You quirk up.

"We can take a ride tonight if you want, on the bike," He proposes. "Together."

You perk up. "Really?"

"Yeah, but you can't be scared," He grins.

"I'm not!"

He kisses your shoulder. "Okay baby, whatever you say. Just hold onto me tight and I won't let you fall and teach your a few things. Sound good?"

You tilts your head all the way back so your eyes meet his. You smile. "Okay. I love you Gyu."

"I love you too."

_______________________________________________

© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

[qqueenofhades]

Hello, qqueenofhades!

I just want to say, that ever since I discovered you in the week following Biden stepping down, you've actually made me not dread talking about politics. I look forward to your thoughts on what's going on, and I want to thank you for that.

I would love to know: What do you think of the apparent exhaustion from Republicans/MAGA about Trump? People leaving his rallies (and that's not even covering how few are even coming at all or his supposedly needing to pay people to come), and the slew of formers we see at the DNC openly talking about their change in sides. Do you have any ideas about what might be causing this shift? Was it Harris? Was it Jan. 6th? Was it one singular reason, or multiple at once?

Hope you're having a good day.

I think it's a lot of reasons. First, as I said earlier, the whole theme of the DNC is about reclaiming the USA FREEDOM message from the Republicans, who have had a monopoly on it for the past three decades at least and used it to justify even more antidemocratic fascist militant theocratic hard-right turns. The scenes of joyful people talking rousingly about hope, compassion, morning in America, and breaking out into regular USA! USA! chants appeals a lot to the average American, who doesn't want to hear constant violent and negative bile from the Orange Felonious Traitor, because that is literally the only thing he has to offer and it's getting openly more deranged and dangerous every day. The whole Tough Talking Populist Outsider shtick worked in 2016, when Trump didn't have four years of incompetent chaos as the actual president and was just a theoretical concept who a lot of people thought would "smarten up" and take it seriously if he actually won. Likewise, the backlash of white grievance against Obama and the complacency that Trump didn't actually stand a chance was able to be leveraged against the decades of smears that the GOP had already leveled on HRC. Of course, Trump lost the popular vote by 3 million-plus, but the Electoral College did what it's designed to do and he snuck in anyway. But it wasn't a rousing landslide or a thumping victory.

As such, a lot of Reagan Republicans are now turning to the Democrats as the actual pro-USA party, because Trump trash-talks America, calls it a shithole third-world country, bellows about WWIII and the Great Depression, cozies up to foreign dictators, etc etc. Reagan also pitched the sunny message of America as the shining moral hero of the world (he in fact used the Make America Great Again slogan that Trump repurposed), and that likewise resonated with people after the chaos and unrest of the 1970s. Now, we all know that I hate Reagan's ass and I hope he's burning in hell for so many reasons, but his message was effective because it gave people a soaring rhetorical vision to believe in (even while he was often stripping away their economic prosperity in particular behind the scenes, all together now, FUCK REAGAN). But the Republicans who joined the 1980s party are now seeing Republicanism become a tawdry cult centered on, as Geoff Duncan (GOP former Lt. Gov. of Georgia) put it yesterday, the worship of a felonious thug. Trump is wildly anti-America; he only uses it as a vehicle to get what he wants, because Donald Trump is all that Donald Trump cares about. Yes, there are still plenty of brainwashed cultists in numbers great enough to make this election far, far closer than it should ever be in any sane universe, but increasingly even his own cultists don't want to hear it anymore. They keep leaving before the event is over and he's drawing far smaller crowd sizes than in 2016, which as we know is pretty much all he cares about. He has a desperate need for attention and approval to feed his damaged narcissistic-sociopath dementia-riddled brain, and he's just not getting it, while the very real prospect looms that if he loses this election (and it looks more and more like he will) he will go to jail for the rest of his life. Terrifying.

That's why we have the unprecedented spectacle of lifelong Republicans and former Trump voters flocking to Harris in large numbers. We've had Republican speakers at the DNC every night, and they keep playing video montages of former Trump voters disavowing him or explaining that they won't vote for him. If you consider what propelled Trump in 2016 -- conservative white grievance against a black guy named Barack Obama -- the willingness to unhesitatingly embrace a black/mixed-race WOMAN named Kamala Harris is incredible. Many of them were already planning to vote for Biden before he dropped out, but it was no certain thing that they would move from being willing to vote for an establishment old white guy to also being willing to vote for a woman and a person of color. The fact that we've had so many high-profile affinity group Zoom events for Harris, including from truly unbelievable quarters (Republicans for Harris, Mormons for Harris, EVANGELICAL CHRISTIANS for Harris), shows that there is a country-wide exhaustion with Trump's poisonous selfish grievance performances, where he's willing to do anything to anyone and turn the USA into a fascist dictatorship if it will exempt him, personally, from the consequences of his odious actions. That is not a message that any sane person can support, and more and more, they don't. As I have said before, that is why fascist movements always sow the seeds of their own destruction. They work for a while, but eventually they're boring, they're mean, they're exhausting, and they offer nothing for anyone but being angry all the time at everyone. Most humans don't like that, and eventually, they drift away.

I also think that part of the reason Kamala absolutely nailed it with Tim Walz as VP is because Walz is the literal anti-MAGA in every way. We have seen a lot of similar straight white military-vet football-coach-type Middle America older men drift into MAGA grievance politics because it offers a home for guys like them and feeds on fear of the future and fear of the other. They feel like they're being heard and understood, even if they aren't, and they vote Republican because they've grown up with Republicans being the pro-America party (however defined). But because Walz is a straight white married military-vet football-coach guy who actually models a joyful and compassionate masculinity, an openly emotional and supportive masculinity, who talks movingly about his love for his wife and children, who is a hunter and gun owner who nonetheless loves kids more than guns, who has taken his small-town rural-America values and become an effective and genuinely progressive politician focused on making ordinary people's lives better, he offers a total antidote to MAGAism. He shows that it is possible to be a traditionally manly American straight white guy who is not a gibbering conspiracy theory-addled shitbag dedicated to trampling on everyone else out of reactionary fear. He shows those guys that they can embrace the diverse future and not have to fear it, and he gives them a permission structure to vote for Democrats because it's the right thing to do AND feel that the Democrats are now the real pro-America party.

Basically, right now, Walz is the most popular member on either ticket, and he's crushing Vance into oblivion (there's something like a 27-point difference in their favorable/unfavorable spreads) because Vance is a horrible robotic hateful gremlin and Walz is an authentic and genuine person who a lot of traditionally Republican-affiliated men (and women!) can identify with. He's also the guy who came up with the devastating "weird" attack line that the GOP can do nothing with except splutter and whine, like playground bullies, that no YOU'RE THE WEIRD ONE. He models that it's actually normal to want your leaders to be compassionate human beings who want to use power to make your lives better, and not hateful fascist alt-righters dedicated to making you also hate everyone and be steeped in doom and gloom. That is why people responded so well to Obama in 2008 after the turmoil of the Bush Jr. years, and why this feels even more monumental than Obama. We won't know until the votes are counted, but this giant tsunami just rose out of nowhere when Harris took over, and it's speeding forward in a really incredible way. We've got to do the work and we've got to vote, but if we do, we could absolutely pulverize Trump and MAGA to smithereens in a way that means it wouldn't be able to come back for a good long while, and oh, what a glorious day that would be. So yes.

[muletia]

[tfp] optimus prime x human!reader

summary: you feel insecure about your boring life. optimus is quick to make you feel better about yourself

cw: angst, fluff, yapper (reader) x listener (optimus), optimus is fucking obsessed with you, bad writing, silliness

word count: 1033

The last thing you expected to see after leaving work was a massive red-and-blue truck parked perfectly at the curb, just a few meters from the entrance. You’d recognize that color scheme and vehicle type anywhere — someone had come to visit. You didn’t even try to hide the smile that crept onto your lips.

"Is that your boyfriend?"

Your coworker’s voice pulled you out of your brief trance. You’d completely forgotten she was even there, though just moments ago, the two of you had been making small talk.

"Yup."

"You never mentioned him."

Because he’s a damn alien, you almost blurted, but you bit your tongue in time.

"He’s a long-haul truck driver, so he’s rarely in Jasper. Hey, thanks for the recipe, but I’ve gotta go. See you tomorrow!"

After a quick hug, you headed briskly toward the truck. She’d surely grill you for details tomorrow, and you’d need to have your excuses ready, but that was a problem for later. You had far better things to do now.

You opened the passenger door to avoid drawing attention to an empty driver seat and climbed inside. The familiar interior immediately put you at ease, and when the owner of the truck spoke, butterflies that had been dormant in your stomach suddenly came to life. You’d known him for years, yet his voice alone still made you feel like a giddy teenager. The perfect man, as it turned out, was actually an extraterrestrial being.

"Greetings, my dearest."

"Hi, love. To what do I owe this visit?"

Optimus started the engine and took the route toward the base. You knew it by heart, having traveled it countless times with Bumblebee or Bulkhead when you needed an escort. Yet, despite being your partner, Optimus rarely had time for dates. You didn’t hold it against him; you fully understood the duties that came with being a leader. But there were moments, many intimate moments when Optimus wished he could spend more time with you. He wanted to be there for you through every good and bad moment, but he couldn’t, and it tore at his spark.

"Front lines have been quiet for now. I wanted to take the opportunity to see you."

You reached out and caressed the panel in front of you. You didn’t miss the momentary, louder hum of the engine. Adorable.

Out of habit, you started recounting all the work and life events that had happened during your time apart. You summarized the movies that had intrigued you, bored you, or changed your brain chemistry. You talked about books and poetry, focusing mostly on those he probably would enjoy as well. Optimus then offered his thoughts, sharing his perspective and making a mental list of works to study when he has the time, so he could discuss them with you in depth later. Maybe, if he got lucky, you’d agree to analyze them together, curled up against his neck.

After catching up on the past few weeks, you naturally transitioned to today’s events, animatedly describing how a certain Cameron had gotten on your nerves.

"I asked him a few times to fix my work computer because, you know, it’s his job, but no! Every time, he came up with some stupid excuse just to avoid—"

"Optimus," Ratchet’s voice broke in over the radio, interrupting your rant. "I hate to disturb your rendezvous, but your presence would be helpful at the base. No rush, though."

Oh, right. For a moment, you’d forgotten about your partner’s responsibilities, bombarding him with stories about work that didn’t even begin to compare with Optimus’s adventures. A pang of guilt hit you. The enthusiasm drained away, replaced by a sudden self-resentment. Instantly, the story that had been the highlight of your day shrank to the size of an atom, meaning absolutely nothing in the grander scale of beings you shared a relationship with. It wasn’t the first time these thoughts had interrupted your fun, but you’d never voiced them out loud, burying them deep within. Too bad they always found their way back to the surface.

You hoped Optimus hadn’t noticed your sudden change in body language, but deep down, you knew he had. He always did. Always perceptive and caring.

Trying to mask your discomfort, you gave a small smile.

"Hi, Ratchet!" you greeted.

The medic grumbled something under his breath.

"I am on my way to the base," Optimus reported, and the connection cut off.

"[Your Name]," he began, his tone changing. From the usual military formality, it softened into a gentle warmth. He’d seen right through you, as always. "Is everything alright?"

You didn’t want to perform tough. Not today, not in such a raw and tender moment.

"No. I don’t think so? It’s just… in your life, everything is so grand and significant; there’s always some action. My workday is interesting if a bird lands on the windowsill by my desk. Sometimes, I feel like my stories bore you because, let’s be honest, they’re boring. My job is boring."

"I understand. I am sorry you feel that way. It was never my intention to belittle you."

As always, he put all the blame on himself. You wished you could hug him, to take away at least a fraction of the guilt he carried every day on his shoulders.

"I know," you sighed. "You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry for getting all worked up."

"There is no need to apologize. I am grateful that you opened up to me. Personally, I do not think your life is uninteresting. It is yours and yours alone; no one else in the world experiences it in quite the same way. To me, your stories are unique, as they differ so drastically from the realities of my life. I wish you could think of them the same way—to be proud of who you are and what you represent."

"You always give me something to think about before bed," you laughed. "Thank you, love. I’ll try to work on myself."

"There are still a few Earth minutes before we reach the base," he informed you, and you raised an eyebrow. "Would you like to finish the story about Cameron?"

[chlorinecake]

ｃｏｎｖｅｎｉｅｎｔ ｃｈａｎｃｅｓ II

🎱 pairing: yandere!stalker!enhypen x fem!reader

🎱 cw: language, non-con kissing and touching, reader gets tortured-ish, slight dumbification, use of the nickname "doll"

🎱 wc: 3k — read part one and three here

YOU AWOKE TO the feeling of the once running vehicle coming to a complete stop, doors unlocking at every which side.

Niki nudged your exhausted body, “Rise and shine, sleepy head.” Meanwhile, Heeseung hooked his arms under your armpits, guiding you out of the car. Your legs hit the ground, drawing your attention to your surroundings. From what you could tell, it was still fairly late in the night, and you were in the middle of the woods. Not too unfamiliar of a scene to you, but still a good ways away from civilization.

Jake ran over to hold your feet, Heeseung and him now holding you in a hammock position. They carried you past a campfire to a ledge on the cliff where the rest of the boys were standing ominously, Sunoo deciding to stay back in the car.

“Now look. We're not gonna hurt you unless we have to, so consider this all an unruly warning. A reminder of who you belong to,” Jay slithered, grabbing a stick from the ground to trail your frightened features. “You're not making any sense, Jay! If this was all apart of your plan to get my attention, why’d you have to kill Mandy?”

The six boys exchanged looks, laughing hysterically at your pitiful state.

“We didn’t kill her, jackass,” Sunghoon spat.

“What do you think life is? Some sort of simulation where people do the same things every single day?”

“She got the night off,” Jake finished, “so I covered for her shift.”

You internally sighed in relief, "Great, so you’re just trying to scare me, then?”

Heeseung peered at you from above, “Are you scared?”

You spat in his face, causing him to snicker in amusement. He dropped one of your arms to wipe your spit from his face, holding you up by one arm. “I like her," he grinned, reached down to squeeze your cheek harshly.

Jay stuck the stick he held in the fire before sealing the red hot edge at the side of your waist.

“Ahhgg,” you groaned in pain, provoking Jay to dig the burning stick even further into your skin, “Don’t fuck this up for me, love. I'm trying to be nice here, and you're only making things more difficult.”

“Alright, ladies, let’s stay on track, please,” Jungwon complained, impatiently nudging Jay’s shoulder.

“Right. We’re gonna ask you a question. Though, there’s only one right answer.”

“W-wha-what?"

“Slow down, dummy. Let him finish,” Niki retorted at your stuttering.

“Fuck this, walk her to the ledge,” Sunghoon directed, Heeseung and Jake guiding your frame to the cliff, their grips tightening around your wrists and ankles the more you struggled against them.

“It’s like you want us to punish you,” Heeseung smirked, swinging you back in forth dangerously close to the edge, Jake chuckled at your trembling. You screwed your eyes shut, preferring not to see whether they’d actually throw you over the cliff or not.

Jay stood in the background, observing your terror before speaking.

“There are two ways this night can end, ____. One, you fight back and my boys will do with you as they please.”

Jungwon and Niki snickered to each other.

Your lower lip quivered at the sound of their devilish tone's, feeling your arms and legs go numb from the awkward position you hung at.

“Two, you and I continue our relationship as if nothing ever changed and you swear your loyalty to me.”

“Booooo,” Sunghoon whined sarcastically, “I like the first option better.”

“The choice is yours, love. So choose wisely.”

“Fuck," you groaned exhaustedly, "fine! I’ll go with you! Just please make them put me down!”

“Tsk tsk tsk. You were so close, love, but I’m not sure if I favor the delivery of your answer. Try again, sweetheart, I know you can do it.”

“J-Jay,” your voice cracked with frustration, feeling the two rascals starting to swing you again.

You hated that he persisted on making this a difficult situation for you, even though you had already complied. You swallowed the lump in your throat, blinking away the moisture in your eyes before continuing.

“I’ll go with you, Jay. I swear, I won’t leave you again!”

“And?”

“And my love and loyalty belongs to you, Jay. Always and forever.”

The wilderness fell silent, the sound of your jagged breaths filling the atmosphere.

Jay kneeled down to meet your tired figure that hung in the air, pulling your face to his before kissing the corner of your lips.

“I know, my love. And I’ve worked so hard to make sure you finally know that, too.”

He gave Jake and Heeseung a look before they released your aching limbs from their hostile grasp, your body flopping on the rocky ground.

“Eugh,” you grunted as Jay pulled you into his hold.

“All of you get in the car!” Sunghoon ordered, rounding up the rest of the boys as Jay carried you to the vehicle, dropping his friends off at their places before bringing you back to his house.

Your new “home.”

THE NEXT DAY, you and Jay were at a fancy restaurant just like old times. He bought you the most lovely black dress and stilettos to wear for the evening, complimented with pearl accents that matched his fancy wrist watch. It had been a while since you went out for food other than the convenience store, especially not with your ex-boyfriend.

He pulled your chair out for you before sitting at the other side of the table, analyzing the menu before initiating small talk.

“So, how’s life been? We haven't had many opportunities to catch up in a while.”

You ran a finger over the dish titles under the plastic covering of the menu, “I don’t see the point in discussing my life details with you when I’m sure you’ve already seen everything.”

Jay paused for a moment as if hitting a brick wall, clenching his jaw at your reply.

“Can’t you see I’m trying here, ____?” He pleaded, looking into your frustrated eyes, “I know I can’t take back what I’ve done to you, but this is a start. I already explained that my intentions were noble, I just-“ he paused again.

“You’re just crazy about me, right? Is that it?” You teased, crossing your legs under the table.

Jay snickered, showcasing his cat-like teeth.

“See? I knew you understood me,” he feigned glee, peering in a little closer over the table before whispering, “now stop disrespecting me or I’ll take your ass home and demonstrate just how crazy you make me.” His hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze that didn’t match the cruel nature of his words.

What was wrong with him?

“Good evening, and welcome to The Diamond. What can I start you guys off with? Drinks, appetizers?”

"I'll start with an iced lemon water,” Jay smiled, “and for you, love?”

“Iced water sounds lovely,” you smiled back, fighting the urge to kick him under the table.

“Anything else before we move onto entrées,” the waiter asked. Your eyes were so stuck on a Jay that you hadn’t realized it was Niki dressed as the server. You felt like the ceiling was caving in on you.

“Is everything okay, Miss?” Niki asked sarcastically, tilting a mocking head at your anxious state.

“Y-yes, I’m alright,” you stammered, trying to remain calm.

“I’ll let you know if we need anything else,” Jay finished, Niki bowing before running off to serve other tables.

“You brought back up?” You scoffed, shaking your head at him.

“No, doll, I’ve only ordered water so far. No need to panic, I’m paying anyways,” he chuckled, observing the menu once again.

You hated the nickname doll, as it only added to your circumstances of being his play thing. You watched as a thick bead of water trailed down the side of your glass, a bright yellow lemon floating in the mixture. You stuck your bare hand into the cup, bringing the lemon to your lips to suck on.

The slurping noises you made caught Jay’s attention, “What’re you doing, ____?” He asked in shock at your sudden change in behavior.

A few drops of the lemon dripping on your tits, drawing Jay's attention to your cleavage. You got up from the table, feeling Niki's threatening gaze burn holes into your back. You pushed your chest out, “Can you clean me up, Jay? I’m such a mess,” you pouted getting on your knees for him.

“____, this isn’t funny. You know better than to act out in a place like this.”

“Don’t keep your dumb doll waiting, Jay-Jay,” you ignored him, reaching a hand to stroke his thighs.

He snatched your wrist with such a force that the contact with his skin and yours made a snapping sound.

“That was your last strike, love. You don’t get any more chances to behave.”

For whatever reason, you didn’t feel threatened by his words. You knew that your actions would only lead to the inevitable cycle that Jay planned to evoke on you anyways.

He guided you through the restaurant, a few people observing the event in disgust. “She’s just a little tipsy,” Jay remarked halfheartedly, rushing through the doors before shoving you in the passenger's seat of his truck.

“What the hell was that, Jay?”

“Pfft, you’re asking me that?”

“How am I supposed to trust you when you bring your goons around to watch me? When you threaten my safety over my emotions?”

Jay shook his head at your words, “you're not the victim here, love.”

You scoffed before he continued.

“I may have hurt you physically, but you broke my fucking heart, and that can never be healed. Not until I correct your behavior,” he frowned, pulling into a driveway.

You didn’t bother asking why you were here because you knew this place all too well. It was the same place he’d take you whenever he wanted to “teach you a lesson.”

He called it his classroom.

So here you were, a student smelling of sweet citrus with your aggravated teacher and his hostile cane. You imagined each whack would feel more like a hit to your mind than it’d hurt you physically. Because that was the thing about Jay.

He’d cut you from the surface, but forget that those wounds often travel much deeper.

He held the small of your back as he guided you to the doorstep at the front porch, taking in your nervous frame.

“____,” he began, taking your hands in his but your gaze fell to the ground, fearful tears starting to spill from your eyes. So much for holding it in all this time.

“Save you tears love,” Jay continued, lifting up your face and wiping the moisture from your cheeks, “I’m not gonna hurt you anymore.”

His words delayed your tears mid-stream, staring into his eyes with confusion.

“What are you saying, Jay?” You sniffled.

“I’m saying that I considered your words. 'How can you trust someone who hurts you?' That’s what you said, right?”

You hummed in response, more keen on listening to him than speaking for yourself.

"Well. In that case, I promise that I'll never lift a finger against you in a violent way. From now on, my hands will only be used to love and adore you, my love. Do you understand?"

You felt the tears starting to form at the corners of your eyes again.

This promise of his was almost too good to be true.

"Y-yes, Jay," you hiccuped, face feeling hot from the breath you held, "I understand."

Suddenly, he pulled you close to him, tenderly connecting his lips with yours. You didn’t reject his kiss because for whatever reason, you craved his comforting.

He broke from the embrace, unlocking the door to reveal the oozing black that danced within the structure of the eerily familiar house. He nodded, initiating you to enter without his force. "I'll see you in two hours," he said as you noticed the six pairs of soulless eyes staring back at you. Your legs grew stiff, but Jay pushed you in, locking the door behind you before going about his evening.

You beat on the door like a mad woman, “Fu- ughh! Jay! Please don’t leave me in here with them,” you screamed desperately, shaking at the door knob in terror. You heard footsteps approaching you from behind before Heeseung, the eldest of the bunch, grabbed your shoulder viscously, pinning you against the cold door.

“Nice to see you again, cutie. I’m sure you remember me from our last encounter,” he grinned, leaning in to breathe his hot breath against your neck, “it’s funny how you smiled in my face while I thought about getting you in a position like this,” he bit down on your skin, “vulnerable, and so fucking pretty for me,” he groaned, harshly kissing at your neck.

Sunghoon pushed him out of the way, giving him a fed up expression, "and I’m sure you remember Jay’s rule.”

Heeseung wiped the wetness from his mouth, “yeah? And what rule was that, fun police?”

“That we’re allowed to mess around with her how we please as long as we avoid leaving any obvious bruises,” Jake finished, cringing at the teeth marks Heeseung left on your neck.

“Hmm,” he hummed in thought, “I should’ve went for the tits.”

You felt nauseous in the middle of all this, having to listen to the perverted boys debate on they'd abuse you. Niki made his way around the corner, walking in your direction.

He pouted back at you facetiously, punching you in the stomach and snickering as you fell to the ground, “you’re such a fucking crybaby,” he spat, grabbing you by the hair just to let you go harshly.

You looked around the dark room, noticing Sunoo standing in a corner alone, mirroring your anguish. You got up and ran to him, falling in his lap before weeping. “Sun, I know what I said to you, but-" your words were cut off by him pushing you away, the back of your head clashing with the hard floor.

“You don’t get to call me that anymore,” he bit back, walking over you as if you were a piece of trash, “finish her off, Jungwon. I don’t wanna have to hear her screams once you get started, so I’ll be outside.”

“Me, too,” Jake added, “I don’t have enough energy for the crybaby tonight,” he rolled his eyes, joining Sunoo outside.

“As you wish, hyung,” Jungwon grinned, grabbing you by the hands before dragging you to the center of the room. The four remaining boys huddled around you like kids in a candy store. Jungwon and Niki held your arms and legs down while Sunghoon kept your head in place.

Heeseung walked over with two large buckets of water, placing them down before coming over to straddle your frame. “How about we play a little game. As I'm sure you’ve learned, there's only one right answer,” he slithered, snaking a hand down to pinch the soft skin of your thigh.

"Your body will give me your answer before your mouth does,” he grinned as Sunghoon reached his hand over to cover your mouth. You fought under Niki and Jungwon’s grip, muffled screams rumbling from your throat.

“I’ve heard that most girls scream when they like it,” Sunghoon chuckled. Heeseung removed Sunghoon’s hand before forcing his tongue past your lips, his tongue fighting against yours.

Sunghoon tried holding your head in place, but he lost his grip as you shook away, biting down on Heeseung’s lip, “FUCK,” he grunted, tasting his own blood fill his mouth.

"She's definitely more of a fighter than a lover," Jungwon began amused, "maybe that's why Jay had so much trouble keeping her around."

By now, you had long forgotten about the large buckets of water sitting a few feet away until Heeseung’s weight left your body, grabbing one of the buckets before dumping it over your face in a stream that lasted thirty seconds.

You hiccuped on the water, struggling to fight the agonizingly steady stream.

“Jake, Sunoo!” Heeseung growled, calling the boys back in.

“Yeah, what’s up?” They asked in unison.

“I’m gonna need a lot more water,” Heeseung ordered, watching you pant for breath beneath him. “Any last words before they get back, because I’m afraid from here, you’ll only be able to burp for the next week," he snickered.

You shook your head violently, more so as a cry for help than an answer to his sadistic question. Heeseung grabbed the second bucket of water, cooing at your misery, "I guess you're choosing to end things on a cliff hanger, for now," Niki smirked, swapping places with Sunghoon so he could restrain your head movements.

That's when the second dry-drowning circuit began, Heeseung pouring the chilly water all over your face. This stream lasted longer than the last one, or maybe it just felt that way because you hadn't had the chance to catch your breath.

The devilish boys would continue to do this for another two hours until Jay came back, occasionally playing with your body in between sessions.

You were soaking wet and your skin seemed blue, considering that you actually passed out a few times from the abuse. Goosebumps stained the surface of your skin as if you they were permanent, feeling as though your life had been completely washed out of you.

Jay didn't bother hanging around at the house before guided you to his car, thanking his friends for “handling you" while he was away.

“So,” Jay began, driving you off to God knows where, “how were they?”

You picked at the skin of your nails, failing to get a hold of your nerves. Your dress was still damp from everything that happened, and your hair was a complete mess. You looked a wreck from the outside, but that hardly compared to the agony you were suffering from on the inside.

“Great,” you replied with a pleasant expression and tone, almost sounding genuine.

"You don't have to lie to me, love. You look dreadful," he admitted, resting a hand on the bumpy skin of your thigh.

"To look on the bright side, I'm sure you learned a very valuable lesson. Hmm?"

"Yes, I did," you replied, your eyes fixed on the dark city skyline ahead of you, lost in your pain.

"Lovely. Now let's get you home and cleaned up. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow."

Ｔｏ ｂｅ ｃｏｎｔｉｎｕｅｄ.

☆ ᴀ/ɴ: in no way, shape, or form does this fanfic intend to romanticize unhealthy relationships or abusive behaviors. i simply write for entertainment and creative purposes. thus, reader discretion is always advised.

☆ taglist: @fanficfactoryfoxxx @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @yngwife @03sunoos @kaykay11sworld @gigiramirezsblog @hoonsyo @en-thralled @haechansheart @night-en-shining-armor @cutiejseong @j-wyoung @rickysblkgf @bambangan @wonbyf @4imhry @zhangyi-johee @naddii @valhrts @tinyenha @lisaaannna @valentineluvr @heecries @espyluvsyou @tokusatsutoad @confuse20x @teddursa @riviyw @tamii4 @lovelycassy @addictedtohobi @gardenwons @nikipedia07 @tubatusoobs @03sunoos

[bullet-prooflove]

Prompt - Slowly steaming up the windows - for Terry Silver please 🫠🤤

Tagging: @kmc1989 @thedeadsingforme @eddieslut69 @mia1653 @kimbergoldess

Terry hates your car. He thinks it’s too small, too compact, too unsafe for the most precious person in his life. What he does like is steaming up the windows on a Friday night when you’re parked up at the overlook on Mullholland, the whole of LA sprawled out before you.

His hands are threaded through your hair, his lips leaving a fiery trail of molten hot kisses down the curve of your throat as you arch against him, grinding down on his throbbing dick. You cry out as his mouth delves lower, his teeth grazing your nipple through the fabric of your shirt before he bites down just a little. The noise you make in that moment, it’s obscene and Terry knows he has to have you right fucking now.

He tries to get his hand between the two of you to unzip your jeans but there’s no space and your ass is already pressed against the glove compartment.

“This car.” He growls in frustration. “This fucking cock blocking car.”

You laugh then because he’s already shoving open the passenger side door and drawing you out of the vehicle with him. Your palms come to rest upon the hood of the car, his fist gripping your hair and tugging your head back so your gaze is fixed on the night sky as he begins to unfasten the button of your jeans.

“I promised you I’d make you see stars tonight Georgia.” He whispers in your ear as he shoves your panties down your thighs. “And you know I keep my promises.”

Love Terry S? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[toysrguts]

MORE jeff hc's!!!!!!

thank u for the love on the last one i love writing these sm ^___^

•can fit like 11 cigarettes in his wide ass mouth at once

•half asian (his mom is chinese)

•his hair is really thin because it never grew back properly after being burned

•hates being wrong more than anything else on the planet. sometimes he knows hes wrong but will NEVER admit it and fight to the death over it

•bpd representation 💯💯💯

•something in my brain tells me he cant die. kind of like a johnny the homicidal maniac situation. he never gets caught and he never dies (he can still get seriously injured but he will always come back when u least expect it)

•always has to be in control of the aux in every vehicle hes in and is so obnoxious when his favorite songs come on

•also yells "I SAW THIS LIVE" every time a band he saw live comes on

•barks at random unsuspecting people through the open passenger window

•always stealing shit off his victims after killing. he has a whole ring collection because of it, and of course he steals wallets for weed money

•also steals from slenderman but you didnt hear that from me

•"saying jeff is a douchebag is like saying the sky is blue." -toby

•kind of guy that takes out his bottled up emotions on everyone around him and then hates himself for it

•wears the same gross outfit all the time. just grabs one of the 3 pairs of crusty skinny jeans from off his floor and of course the musty ass dirty ass torn apart ass hoodie

•smile dog is truly his best friend. he feels like nobody understands him like smile does. he loves taking him for walks in the woods while smoking a cigarette and having deep conversations with him (not that he actually responds but jeff knows smile can understand what hes saying)

•horror movie enthusiast, from obscure fucked up ones to super cheesy ones. he has a whole shelf dedicated to his horror movie collection

•has an addictive personality, which is partially why he has a drug and alcohol abuse problem and struggles with self harm

•rarely goes out in public because hes known to have violent outbursts. he once committed mass murder at a burger king because people were looking at him weird and EJ had to drag him out of there before the cops showed up

•HATES the light he literally duct taped over his windows so the light couldn’t get in (he forgot blackout curtains exist)

•his room smells like pennies, skunk weed, and foot stank

•is actually an incredible artist but acts like hes not. literally everyone loves his work except for him

•secretly loves cartoons. he loves taking bong rips and watching scooby-doo to escape reality :)

•has never had a healthy relationship with anyone in his life, usually just sticks to hookups

•its a miracle this man is still alive considering he survives off gas station snacks and week old sodas that have been sitting on his nightstand

•speaking of he once drank an old dr pepper after he forgot he put out a cigarette in it

•got a tramp stamp when he was blackout wasted

•writes random thoughts and draws little doodles all over his bedroom walls; it kind of looks like a mental asylum in there

•also his bed is literally just a blood stained mattress on the floor with no sheet and a singular pillow and blanket

•so fucking broke he will do anything for a hundred bucks

•writes the most foul hate comments under every post he disagrees with

•he loves video games, his favorite being postal 2 (hes OBSESSED)

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Twenty-Eight

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: Just fluff, heart-wrenching fluff

Notes: Okay, so. Last Sunday in my most graceful hour, I dislocated and subsequently fractured my thumb🙂 I also hated what I originally wrote and spent all week re-writing and re-writing this scene. I hope this isn’t trash and you guys like it, I’m so sorry for the delay on this one🥲

Word Count: 1614

Series Masterlist

• April 1st, 2006 • Home •

Reader

Ten o’clock on the dot, as promised, a knock on the front door draws me from my reverie. I’d spent the last 30 minutes after getting ready, lost in my head on the couch. Surely today’s talk with Jasper won’t end badly, god I hope not.

Swinging the door open, my eyes snap to his and a smile takes over my face on instinct. “Hey.”

“Good morning, darlin’.” The way his accent wraps around that familiar term of endearment will always make me weak in the knees.

He almost completely blocks my view but bright yellow behind him just barely snags my vision-is that?

“Did you-?”

“Borrow my sister’s apology gift? Yes, it’s a little bit too wet for a bike ride, sweetheart.” Turning to look at Alice’s car, he misses the blush heating my cheeks at the memory of the last time I was on his motorcycle, holding him close.

“Fair enough.” I turn to snag my coat from the hook near the door before closing and locking it.

His outstretched hand helps be down the front stairs before leading me to the passenger side of the beautiful Porsche. Beautiful is an understatement for this piece of machinery, I hate to even ruin the floor mats with my wet shoes.

“Alice chose her gift wisely, Edward did good.” Jasper chuckles slightly at my comment as I lower myself into the seat and he shuts the door gently, cocooning me in silence momentarily until his door opens.

“What she did for him - to save him, this was the least he could do.” Watching him start the car, I realize it’s a manual transmission.

He smoothly shifts it into reverse to exit my driveway before shifting again to leave the neighborhood. My brain stutters a little as I watch him maneuver the car, god - is everything this man does going to be ridiculously attractive?

“Where are we going?” I manage to drag my gaze from his hand and I’m caught, he smirks like he fucking knows.

“Since everyone is home, we’re going somewhere with privacy.” A shiver trickles over my skin quickly even though I’m wearing a coat, somewhere with privacy.

Excitement begins to bubble up in my chest and I opt to watch the trees as the pass by quickly outside my window, trying and probably failing to hide my own smirk.

Jasper

Easing the car to a stop, I watch as the realization of where we are dawns on her.

“Our spot!” A breathtaking smile overtakes her face as she turns to me quickly and I’m stunned, it’s like I’m staring at an angel incarnate, gorgeous.

I chuckle and exit the vehicle, excitement and pure joy flow from her unmitigated and I smile to myself, letting her emotion wash over me like waves gently lapping at the shore.

I barely graze the door handle with my fingers before her impatience at my lack of speed flings the door open. The moment I met her quickly flashing through my mind before I catch the door, stopping it from snapping back closed in her face. “Darlin’-” I tease her, but I’m not the object of her focus.

“This view really is unfair.” Her voice is gentle as she brushes past me and closes in on the railing at the edge, protectiveness flaring in my chest at her proximity to danger.

Sporadic, gloomy clouds dot the ridge line, but the scenery is bathed in a wetness from the rain that highlights the deep tones of the forest. The air is crisp and humid, clean but also heavy with the scent of drenched wood.

“It is.” But I’m not talking about what’s beyond, I’m looking at her.

She turns at my comment and realizes my words since my eyes never leave hers, a warm blush floods her face and I quickly remove the distance between us, my finger under her chin to stop her from hiding bashfully.

“No hiding from me, not this beautiful face.” I whisper as my eyes dance along the planes and contours of her. Her joy increases tenfold and I swear it gives me a new life, she gives me new life.

I kiss her quickly even though it goes against every fiber of my being not to take my time with her mouth, but we’re here for a purpose. For a conversation long overdue.

Jasper

Taking a deep breath and a step backwards to keep my head on straight, I dig down to my very core - somewhere no one else has been, and begin.

“To know me is to hate me - to hate me like I hate myself. I hate what I am at a cellular level. I can’t be a normal guy in love with a normal girl. I can’t allow myself to be caught up in you, your scent, your touch. I have to keep myself in check, I can’t let my thoughts or feelings run away from myself with you near. I can’t seduce you in ways I wish I could without the fear of hurting you.” A deep breath in and out, my throat is raw for the first time in a very long time, like the words bubbling up are burning. “And because I hate what I am, I hate who I am. I’m a monster that killed without complaint or a second thought for so long. It withered away at my soul, at my very core. It changed me entirely, I can’t rewind and get that version of myself back.” I swallow hard. My fingers run furrows through my hair, my skin is fucking crawling. “So how am I supposed to let you love someone like myself? How do I tether an angel like you, to a demon like me? How do I ask you to compromise yourself to fit into my world? Because you have to bend to me, you have to keep my secrets and give up so much of a normal life just to be mine. How do I ask that of the person I hold in highest regard? In the chance you choose this life, choose to change - you’re giving up on moving forward, having children, grandchildren, growing old with someone you love, staying in the lives of your loved ones, the list goes on and on and on. You could potentially come to resent me and darlin’, I wouldn’t survive that.” I pause, letting the words ruminate.

I feel slightly human again, breathing like I’ve run for miles. And I have, I’ve been outrunning this horrible inner monologue for one-hundred and forty-three years. Alone.

Until now. Until her.

Reader

I-I’m stunned. He can’t possibly think all of these things about himself, not this absolute gentleman, this tender and kind man?

“To get to know me-to love me, is a death sentence. I’m a walking liability, I’m not safe. With everything I’ve done, I’m a monster.”

“You are no such thing-” he opens his mouth to interrupt, but I’m quick to stop him. Giving him an encouraging smile I ask, “Let me get this out?”

His eyes are desperate and hanging on for dear life waiting for what I have to say.

“To know you is to love you, Jasper. You are so many things, but a death sentence - a liability, isn’t any of them. Nobody is safe in this world and I’m certainly safest when I’m with you.” Happy tears prick at my eyes as I dredge all of these feelings up, words he should’ve heard a lifetime ago. “And above it all, you. Are. Not. A. Monster. In any shape or form, Jasper Hale. You had a master manipulator as a creator, and she twisted you until you couldn’t take it anymore - until you had to run away. Monsters don’t feel remorse, regret, or empathy. This right here - what you’re feeling when you look inwards, is proof enough that you are not this terrible horrible thing incapable of giving or receiving love.” I smile up at him, so relieved to get this off my chest, “And if the last six months is anything, it’s proof that I don’t want this life if you aren’t in it. It’s insanity to even suggest that I could love anyone else a fraction of the amount that I love you, even more so to insinuate I’d ever build a life with anyone other than you. So no, I don’t care about any of those things, not if I can’t have you.”

I can see the racing thoughts behind the storm in his eyes, the war my words have waged on the inner monologue he’s had for most of his life. I don’t expect to change his way of thinking instantly, but all I’m looking for is just a ripple, a slight shift in the tide, something to work with and build over time because I’m not fucking going anywhere.

This man deserves someone to fight for him and I was meant to dawn this armor.

Jasper

“You have to know that you have an out, you don’t have to do this.” She’s stepping forward to cup my face and the depth of her eyes has me in a trance.

“I’m already all in, I’ve been in since the moment I met you. Stop offering outs, no amount of harsh truths are going to scare me away. It’s me and you.” She says it with such conviction my breath stutters.

“Me and you?” Unreal, this anchor holding me to earth, this angel willing to brave this life with me.

“Always.” She confirms my fate - our fate, like a simple fact. Short and sweet, just like her

Next

Taglist Part 1:

@aoi-targaryen @min-jianhyung @pbbsl @timelordhunterandmysterysolver @sheerangermany @clearwater-hoe @Blackbluerose666 @ivy-plays @random-human02 @delightfulbluebirdstarlight @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @gaymazinglula @l3ejm @angelfuzzy2 @losa12308 @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @flyawayprincess @ropickle @catbusloki @deviat3dsn0wf0x @lovesanimals0000 @unrevived @h-naec @cutesnakemum @zudooms @itsmytimetoodream @stinkii-boii @acoolnight @anothercoffeeblogx @irishblend10 @from-now-on-im-switzerland @kyraslife2 @naolvshan @kiiwiigii @rosedpetal @kiaraandrea @foolsgoldxo @heartfilia01 @azuredgalaxies @geekysimmerthings @graciereads @ramen-girl-2424 @0hmydekiru @creeqvealley @cherriebat @whichwitchisthebitch @dragon-rider-with-a-book @secretfairytailpetscookie @psychobitchsthings

[ghostboneswrites2]

Sick of You pt.2

Second part to this request.

Summary: Reader saves Daryl's ass again and finally gets the respect she deserves.

18+ MDNI || Warnings: TWD Typical violence, profanity, over the counter drugs

        Things have gotten better since your heated exchange with Daryl in the woods. You two haven't grown any closer, but you don't feel the need to avoid him anymore. The most you get is a curt nod when he passes you by. You're fine with that, though. 

        Today is your rest day, so aside from morning and afternoon inventory, you don't have any chores on your itinerary, which you are grateful for. Most people get rest days once a week, but you tend to be forgotten in that regard, so yours aren't nearly as frequent. Your only plans for the day are to sleep, eat, drink, and repeat. That is, of course, until;

        "Hey, (Y/N)? I hate to ask, but everyone else is swamped with work today. Daryl was supposed to be back hours ago. I'm worried something might've happened." Rick asks, leaning on the bars of your cell. You reluctantly uncrust your sleepy eyes and stare down at him. "It was supposed to be a quick in-and-out at the pharmacy just a few miles down the road due south. It's a small town, barely any walkers last I was there. Think you could go and see what you see?"

        You sigh and sit up. "Sure." You croak.

        "I really wouldn't ask if--"

        "It's okay. Really. I don't mind." You wave him off. You do mind, actually, quite a bit. However, it's only fair if you're the only one not working.

        "I'll load a car for you. Just get yourself ready. I'll have all the supplies you need in the car." He says. You nod and he walks away. With a groan, you yawn and stretch before quickly throwing on your cleanest jeans and least stained shirt. 

        "All loaded up." Rick informs you as you approach the vehicle. "Water, snacks, weapons, some tools if ya need 'em." 

        "Cool." You nod. "Thanks. I'll be back."

        "Be safe."

----

        The town was not clear of walkers. Not at all. There was a swarm of them around the little drug store where Daryl was supposed to be, and judging by how desperately the walkers clawed at the building, you could only assume he was trapped in there. God damn it.

        "Shit." You mumble as you slowly drive by the building. A few walkers turn their attention to you, but not enough. Then, you remember the Bon Jovi CD Rick had tucked away in the glove compartment. "Hell yeah." You smirk to yourself as you stop the car and slide the disc into the player. You crank the radio as loud as it'll go. The first song that plays feels ironic, as it's called Wanted Dead or Alive. You shrug it off and honk the horn, revving the engine, trying to gain as much undead attention as you can.

        "Come on you dead fucks!" You call out of your cracked window that you inched down for airflow. "Come and get me!"

        The dead begin to peel away from the building, inching toward your car in a swarm. Before you can get buried too deep in corpses, you press the gas, driving just fast enough that they couldn't catch up, but not so fast they'd lose interest.

        For the sake of spirit, you belt out the lyrics you know. Any extra noise to draw them after you.

        "I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride.. I'm wanted dead or alive.. Wanted dead or alive"

        You can't help but laugh at the stupidity of the situation. The song, the walkers, the way you're singing. It was like going on a road trip with a divorced dad or something. As you peek in the rearview mirror you realize just how many of them were after you now. At least twenty, maybe more. There was no way you'd be able to fight them all off, not even with Daryl's help. You resort to taking a turn down a random street, hoping it would circle back to the main road and you'd be able to lose them that way. 

        Luck is not on your side today, though. The road turns out to be a dead end. What are your options here? This puttering little car wouldn't survive a rogue assault if you tried to mow through the herd. No, you'd have to get clever, and fast, because your car is stopped and they're getting close.

        In a fit of quick thinking, you throw the bag Rick packed for you over your shoulder and make a run for it into the trees surrounding the street. You leave the car running with the music blaring. Hopefully that will keep the bulk of them focused on the car while you make a break for it.

        The plan works for the most part. Any of them that followed you into the trees are too far back to be an immediate concern, and the few stragglers in the woods that are being drawn to the sound of the radio are easy enough to take down if they get too close for comfort.

        You dodge branches and fallen logs as you bolt through the trees back toward the main road. When it's in sight, you're relieved to see only a small amount of walkers remained. You don't worry about them. Instead you backtrack to the pharmacy as fast as you can, hoping Daryl will still be there waiting for you so you don't have to try to get back to the prison on your own without wheels.

        Your chest is starting to feel tight and hot as the cardio catches up to you. As you slow to a slow jog, you peer over your shoulder. Five or so walkers are behind you, but you have enough distance on them to ignore them for the time being. You decide to keep your slow jogging pace. The pharmacy is in view now. All you have to do is keep going forward, so you do.

        When you make it, you're completely out of breath. The vehicle Daryl took that morning is still there, so you know he hasn't left, and if he did he's on foot, which wouldn't be smart. You tug at the doors but they don't budge. You look back down the road. The walkers are a bit closer now.

        "Daryl!" You call at the glass, hoping he hears you. "Daryl let me in!"

        You slap at the glass but there's no movement from inside. 

        "Shit!" You exclaim. The walkers seem to be moving faster now that you're beginning to panic. You run around the building to see if there's a back door you can slide in through. There is, but it's locked. "Damnit!" You shout, kicking at the metal door. You know it won't open,  but you figure maybe the banging of your boot against the metal will inspire Daryl to let you in. Speaking of, why isn't he letting you in? "Daryl! You okay in there?" You call for him. You don't have time to wait for a response. 

        Snarling bodies are creeping around the corner of the building. You pull your knife from your belt and ready it as you back away slowly. You can't decide if you should take them on or not. There are only a few, but there's still only one of you. "Fuck it." You mutter, lunging to stab one in the skull before backing away again. 

        You continue this maneuver as you circle the building. You keep your distance, lunge at one, then back away again. When you make it around the front again, you see movement from inside. "Daryl!" You call out. There are only two walkers left. You can take them, but you can't take the rest that are sure to find their way back to you.

        The door swings open, and a bolt flies into one of the walkers. With haste you take down the last one and retrieve the arrow before you run inside. Daryl slams the door behind you and locks it.

        "The hell you doin' out here, girl?" He hisses.

        "Saving your ass, Dixon." You cross your arms triumphantly. "Which, I did a pretty damn good job at."

        He ignores your gloating and drags you away from the glass, crouching with you behind the sales counter.

        "The herd. That was you?" He asks.

        "Yup. Bon Jovi came in clutch, if I do say so myself." You grin.

        "Huh." He nods. "Well, we still got another problem."

        "What is it?"

        "The car. Someone siphoned the gas out while I was in here grabbin' the meds.Didn't even hear 'em. Tried to start it up and it wouldn't crank, so I got out and saw the gas tank open."

        "Shit." You throw your head back. "I had to ditch the other car to evade the damn freaks."

        "Alright." He sighs. "We just need a plan, and fast. Before that herd circles back."

        "Okay." You take a breath. "So, no vehicle, herd incoming, need a plan... Why don't we just book it? Run as fast as we can through the trees before the walkers come back. The prison is only a few miles away. We can be back bye tonight."

        "Nah. No idea how many of 'em are out there, or who else is out there. Walkers don't get tired, we do." He shakes his head.

        "Well, do we really have another option?" 

        "Guess not." He nods. "Here." He holds out a packet of pills. You examine the label.

        "Caffeine pills?" You press your brows together.

        "Worth a shot. Might keep us goin' longer." He shrugs. You nod. 

        "Good idea." You say as you pop two pills out of the packet and swallow them. You pull a water bottle from your bag and chug it, offering it to him when you're done. He takes two pills for himself and takes a few swigs of water before you pack the bottle away and stand up. 

        "Ready?" He asks.

        "Yeah, but first I gotta ask. Why didn't you let me in the first time I tried?" You wonder.

        "Passed out. Walker was in here, caught me off guard. I hit my head. Stayed up long enough to lock the doors. Woke up to you bangin' in the back."

        "Oh." You nod. "I'll forgive you this time."

        With that. the two of you run out of the back and into the trees behind the parking lot. You follow him, assuming he knows where he's going, and don't stop until you can't run anymore.

        By that point its nightfall. 

        "Daryl." You pant. "I can't anymore."

        He slows down and leans on a tree, propping his hands on his knees while he catches his breath.

        "Okay. We walk from here." He agrees.

        "Here." You offer him some water, which he gladly takes. You drink some too before tucking it away again. You stumble behind him as the two of you walk, exhausted from sprinting and coming down from the caffeine rush.

        "So." You begin.

        "So?"

        "So... I showed you what I can do." You gloat.

        "Yeah." He sighs. "Ya did good, (Y/N)."

Join the taglist! || Masterlist

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck

[mixelation]

Literally all i know about wicked is the poster bc i think its nice. Can i ask you what its a fic of? Or just about?

uuuuh so wicked is actually weirdly complicated in terms of being a fic/adpatation/whatever. it's a fanfic of the wizard of oz but it gets weird:

the wonderful wizard of oz is a children's book published in 1900. it went on to have 13 sequels by the original author, and then literally tens more sequels by other authors. most of the books are about someone going on a journey and assembling a party of strange magical people and creatures and running into various strange places and occasionally dodging things trying to kill them. this means that there is a LOT of lore and zany characters to draw from.

the book is of course not nearly as famous as the 1939 movie, which is what most people think of when they think of the wizard of oz. the movie adaptation has the same basic plot outline as the first book, but streamlined and-- most importantly for understanding wicked-- it changed a lot of aesthetic details. the reason for this is that color movies were new, and they wanted to show off, so everything is ultra bright and colorful. in the book, the dorothy's magic shoes are silver. they changed them to ruby red because it pops more. also in the book, everything in the emerald city is white, but everyone entering the city must wear glasses to make everything appear green (for emeralds, you see). the movie producers were evidently like "what the fuck?" and instead made the emerald city extra color and bright and loud. oh, and the movie made the wicked witch green. in the book, she was not green and instead had one magic eye.

wicked is a 1995 novel which is of a specific genre which basically asks: what if the villain of the story secretly had a sympathetic backstory this whole time? what if the good guys weren't that good and the wicked witch was actually kind of the better person?! i did really like these as a kid, but they kind of appeal to me less now outside of nostalgia because as takes they're usually.... kind of immature? or else come off like they dislike the source material. anyway, wicked is about the origin story of the wicked witch of the west (now named elphaba), who is born green and discriminated against for it. i read the book back in high school and therefore don't remember a ton of details about the plot, but the world building involved feels like a bizarre fever dream and sort of lazy in its lack of canonical detail if you're an oz fan. i remember finding it especially bizarre because there's details drawn from the books, but the main premise is entirely in movie land, and a lot of major book details are basically just discarded/never acknowledged. this is what makes it, imho, a bad fanfic. i won't comment on the writing because it's been too long, but in terms of being a fanfic..... yeah, it's weird & kind of bad?

however, i don't think most wicked fans have read the book. most people talking about wicked mean the 2003 musical (which will have a movie adaptation this month and why i'm thinking about it). like the movie, the musical is more streamlined than the book it's based on, and fun songs are added!!! i've seen it twice and literally don't remember the plot. i do think the actually spectacle of it is cool, but i don't like most of the songs, and again, it feels like it hates the source material. some of the weirder things, off the top of my head:

i cannot begin to stress how being green is one of the more normal physical differences to have in oz. like i get that the "hated because she's GREEN" thing is just a vehicle for the metaphor, but what is the point of intentionally picking this setting if you're just going to discard it?

there's a subplot about the talking animals wanting rights. this could actually be super interesting to explore, because the status of animals in the land of Oz is never made super clear? it's stated that they can all talk, and yet we see farmers and people eat animal products. there are animal characters who are treated equal to humans, and animal characters that are very explicitly pets. yet wicked does not engage with this in any interesting way (at least in the musical -- in the book i just remember an animal sex club?!); it's just a very generic "we want rights!!!" thing happening without the actual method and system of discrimination being made clear

glinda's function in the books is to be a wise adult figure. she rides around in a flying chariot pulled by swans and hires only beautiful women to work for her and gives them swords. in wicked, she's a shallow prep character. i get it's supposed to be an ~origin story~ or whatever but my feeling was that there's no foundation for her future character being laid. unless you're only going with "pink, appears in a bubble" as your basis for character

the book and the musical are both set against highly political backdrops, but most of the politics are made up wholecloth because canonical oz is.... chaos. the land of oz is more like a bunch fo loosely tied city-states, many of which are so isolated they probably don't know they have a ruler. again, "the politics of oz" is something i think would be interesting to explore in a fanfic, but wicked seems to just want to have some politics around and slapped a vaguely oz aesthetic on it, making it feel shallow and preventing any sort of conversation with the source material

like i'm not saying that all fanfic NEEDS to be in conversation with the source material; i'm just saying, why write a fanfic if you literally only want the aesthetics of the movie? to help sell copies? sure. and i don't even think that automatically makes a piece of work bad (no hate, wicked fans), it's just makes it frustrating and unpleasant to consume if you're a fan of the source material

[pfaerie]

I read heartstopper for a bit and I keep pretty mid expectations for webcomics because its a story for free, im not going to complain too much, whatever

But the 0 stakes thing fucking killed me man. Its also the like, wholesome paradox of not wanting to have a problematic world, but also wanting the mains to be comforted for their issues that came from a problematic world.

So you have a story where we encounter actual homophobia like twice, but fear of homophobia is a vehicle for comfort therapy speak. It becomes frustrating because it starts to feel like their fears are unfounded because the only homophobia in the plot is soundly dealt with by "it's a singular character who sucks so comically and no one likes that guy anyway"

And same with the eating disorder kinda? We have this whole plot about his disorder and it's resolved with "I've been in inpatient for a month and things are looking up!"

Also no one is allowed to be interesting because they all have to be nice and good and emotionally right always.

I don't know much about osemans personal stuff since I really don't look into authors, and I'm sure there's stuff in her comics but the characters are all so forgettable I can't even recall what was wrong about them. However she did have an author portrait in her physical copies that annoyed me lol.

Its all just so toothless man. Idk it feels like an ideological extension of, in trying to defend gay people against hypersexual stereotype, make things incredibly suppressed and overly chaste. Which if that's what you need whatever I guess, but it really became the popular gay media trend for a while and it nearly killed me.

EXACTLY 100% THIS. They're toothless and forgettable.

Their reluctance to do anything isn't supported by the world around them - they could probably kill a guy and get off scot-free, but they wouldn't because they're friends with everyone and nobody has an emotion more intense than a mild flutter. Except for the dickheads, who, like you said, are comically evil.

They're serious about everything, but it's easy to be serious when they only need to be, like, 5th-grader-with-one-chore-a-week serious!!! And vice versa! It's easy to be carefree when there are literally NO STAKES. IN ANYTHING. Like, I don't want to see tons of gay suffering by any means, but also. It builds character 🙄 They're fake. It's whatever.

Like. It's fine that it exists. Creators can do what they want. 90% of what I draw is syrupy-sweet romance and cute things. I get the appeal for the people who just want or need something soft. But god. I wish I never had to see another ad for that show. I don't want it on MY blog, in MY corner of the internet. I hate that it's a media darling. It's obnoxious.

[ultralightpoe]

Vigilante Shit - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Never liked this one which is why it stayed in the drafts fr so long, it just always seemed empty. It's definitely missing something.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Word Count:9,131

Warnings: Cuss words, reader was once apart of the red room

Apart of my MIDNIGHTS EVENT.

Main Masterlist

Enjoy!

Draw the cat eye, sharp enough to kill a man

You did some bad things, but I'm the worst of them

Sometimes I wonder which one will be your last lie

They say looks can kill and I might try

I don't dress for women

I don't dress for men

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

-

It’s the pity on her face that makes you want to claw her eyes out, or maybe the happy family photo sitting on her desk staring and taunting you with their stupid smiling faces. Each of her children smiled like nothing was wrong in the world, like they didn’t have to worry about earning their way or surviving the day.

Dr. Aquinos children would never know pain.  

But that was a given, they weren’t bought and sold off. They weren’t tortured and abused for years only to be torn out when Natasha fucking Romanoff decides to free everyone from that chain and force them into the real world. 

Did it make you pathetic to say you missed it? 

In the red room you had a cot, a meal at least once a day and training. Out here you were no one. No trace of you existed. No ids, or photos, no friends or family. You were nothing. 

Even ghosts had more than you at this point. 

“You know it’s common to feel this way about it? That longing to have it back? It’s the pain and the change, you feel like you have nothing right now but I can assure you that’s not true.” 

You say nothing. 

“Have you given any thought to our last session?” The therapist asks, voice saccharine amount of sweet that tells you she knows your looking for a fight today and she won’t be giving into it. You hated that she knew you would try that, you hated these sessions all together. 

“Yes.” Lie. And judging by the quirk in her smile she knows it too. 

“I think it’s extremely important for you in this next step, to get rid of the suit. What was it they called you?” You don’t reply for a minute, your own little form of rebellion, but she doesn’t let you get away with it for long. “The…. Cobra?” 

“The. Viper.” You bite out, grinding your teeth together and fisting your hands at your side. “The Red Viper to be exact.” 

“Can you explain to me why it is you got that name? I mean your other counter parts all follow a …..widow theme….. but you don’t?” 

“It just….. happened that way.” You lie. “How much longer do we have?” 

Why did she not have a clock?

“Ah. So the story has something to do with Bucky Barnes.” She smiles and you fight back the sneer. 

“Nope.” 

“You always ask for the time when memories of him are brought up.” 

Not. True. You don’t bother arguing because that might prove her point. 

“Can you recall what he looked like?” 

A flash of ice blue crosses your mind, his eyes. Followed by roses and ballet slippers. A small opening to freedom right there in your grasp, his smiling face….. replaced by that of betrayal, the pain and torture you suffered for weeks after because he-

“No.” You lie. “I only knew him as the winter soldier.”

“Have you tried reaching out?” 

“No. And I never will.” Not until you were able to kill him, get your revenge. 

Your therapist didn’t know about your revenge list though,she would have you imprisoned for it. The list of names of every mastermind and agent that did you wrong, and at the very end of the list was the one person you actually managed to trick you, the one person you gave everything you had left to. 

Bucky Barnes would be the last person you killed in this life, and you would make sure to enjoy every second of it.  

-

It’s not everyday they pull you from your training program and load you into a transportation vehicle, and you don’t know whether to be scared or excited by the change in routine. 

You decide on excitement, because a widow is never. Ever. Scared. 

The keepers transporting you all avoid eye contact and you bite back the smirk, knowing that you installed that fear when you bit the thumb off the last guard that tried to touch you inappropriately. You might be hydras toy but you were not a plaything for these half wits. 

“Your mission will be in direct partnership with the Winter Soldat.” The agent in front of you explains, watching you load up your widow uniform with hidden weapons “there’s a list of names that needs to be taken care of, and it might take a minute so they are pairing you both. They want no mistakes, only the best.” 

“No traces no trails. No chances.” You answer, already having it memorized, biting down on your tongue when you remember the poor girl you left as a witness to your last mission. 

Hydra never found out, but her scared scream when she caught you killing her father will haunt you. 

You wondered if you might have had someone to scream over at one point. 

“He won’t speak to you so don’t bother.” The agent grunts as the vehicle comes to a stop and he slams his fist on the side to let them know it’s safe to open the doors. 

They all cast you another look as you try not to roll your eyes at the drama. If you truly wanted out of this vehicle you could slaughter them all, you just knew that hydra would track you down no matter what so what was the point?

They lead you down hundreds of gray halls, each getting darker than the last and the smell of mold and desperation heightened with each step. Finally at the very last cell door they all raise their weapons and slide it open, muttering something in Russian before a figure emerges. 

The glint of his arm catches on the shit light above you first, and then he is there, glowering and confused in the same go. 

“Soldat. This is the widow.” His mentor speaks in Russian, gesturing to you which makes the soldier give you one look. That’s it. One brief look of disdain and he goes back to looking at the mentor like you weren’t even there. 

This mission is going to go well. 

-

“You’re making progress Bucky.” Dr. Raynor hums, her eyes glinting as she watches him over the pad of paper she hasn’t scribbled on in the past hour. He likes to think that it’s a good sign, but he also tries not to get into his own head about it. “But I’d like to go a little deeper if you’ll let me.” 

“Don’t really have a choice doc.” He mutters, but his tone lacks the usual bite. 

“Funny. Have you slept in a bed recently?” 

“I’ve made it to at least 3 hours of sleep in my bed.” He nods, not mentioning he thought the laundry detergent smelled like your shampoo. 

“You bought any home decorations? Anything at all?” 

“There’s a welcome mat by the front door.” 

“Inside or outside?” 

“…..inside.” He wasn’t brave enough to put it out in the hall yet. 

“I just want a house that has a welcome mat and that cookie smell. Something to call home.” Those were your words, whispered to him the night before the soldier….. 

“Tell me what you have been up to lately.” 

“Lunches with Yori….missions with Sam…. And I’ve been…. Trying to find someone.” 

“Someone from your time as the soldier?” 

“Yes.” His throat is tight and he might throw up. 

“For revenge?” 

“No…. Well she might want revenge…… I just want her.” He admits. 

Dr. Raynors eyebrows shoot up, and she tries to keep neutral as she asks the next question. “The viper then?” 

“She didn’t like that name.” 

“How did she get it?” 

“Me.” 

“And what did you call her if she didn’t like the name?” 

“Flower.”

- 

I don't start it but I can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

I don't dress for friends

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

- 

The roof of the bagel shop on the stupid block you were on was probably the worst spot to be. 

Best, if you’re focusing on the fact that it’s the perfect hideout for the sniper gun you are aiming and the fact that you’re able to lay at a slant so your legs don’t falls asleep while you focus. 

Terrible for the fact that you could smell the pizza shop next door perfectly, and your stomach was beginning to rumble in hunger. 

But you had to focus, your target was supposed to be in his apartment right now, Viktor Aubrel, the man that sold you in the first place. 

Your intel told you he should have been home an hour ago and yet you were still waiting in the winter air that sent a shiver up your spine, too focused on the aim to realize the two figures now on the roof. 

“Are the widows that oblivious now?” A deep voice laughs causing you to whirl, knife out as you spot none other than the winter soldier and the new captain america, both watching you. 

It was the captain that taunted you, a sneer making its way into your lips as you prepare yourself to launch. The winter soldier extends a hand out, blocking the captain with a skeptical look. 

“Sam. A little forewarning, she doesn’t fight like the others.” He mumbles and you all but hiss, not giving either of them a moment before you’re launching at them. 

They track your movements well, both standing to fight as you run across the roof, jumping up on the ledge to give you the upper advantage and launch yourself at them. Starting with the easier target, the man with the shield. Wrapping your arms around his neck and spinning your body until you have his weight thrown in the air. He manages to catch himself standing but you’re ahead of the game, jumping so your feet are planted on his chest and shoving him off the roof right as the winter soldier gets to you.  

“I don’t want to do this.” He mutters and you hiss again, lunging with a knife out, slashing expertly over and over as he dodges as much as he can. “You don’t need to do this.” 

The knife catches in the elbow of his metal arm and his flesh hand comes up to grab your wrist so you twist, kicking his knee down and flick another knife from your uniform. 

“I want to.” You mutter in Russian, voice dripping with disdain as you raise the knife and bring it down. Only to get blasted across the roof. 

The air leaves your lungs as you skid across the concrete of the roof, splayed out staring at the sky and blinking away the pain. 

“She’s quicker than the rest.” Captain America huffs, helping the soldier up. 

“A lethal experiment. Taking a trained widow and injecting her with mutated blood of some guy named Logan Howlett.”

“Where does the viper come from?” 

“Her knives are all laced with venom and poisons. One touch to your skin and it doesn’t matter if it was a fatal wound or not. You’re out.” You hear them both approach, pretending to be passed out before they get close enough and you can kick the soldier in the stomach. He catches your foot, twisting so your body would have to twist with it or break, but you’re already pulling out a knife and launching it at the other. 

A shout of warning leaves the soldier's lips as the knife nearly gets his partner's thigh, you take this weakness and twist until you are wrapped around him and launching you both across the roof. But he is already working his way out, twisting so you slam into the roof once more, his metal arm on your throat holding you down as you claw at it. 

Panic attacks your body, scratching at the metal as the captain comes into view. 

“Stop. We can help you.” The man sighs. 

“Y/n.” The soldier mumbles, eyes pleading. “Let us help-“ 

Your foot bends to smash into his jaw and send him sprawling back. 

“That’s. Not. My. Name.” Your voice is scratchy from the choking and it hurts to talk, but you don’t have time since you’re already dashing to clear the roof. 

But the captain throws his shield and hits your ankle sending you falling until Bucky catches you and twists you with his metal arm so your back was to his chest and he can hold you. 

“It is. You told me so yourself. Remember?” 

“I wanna see my life before all this. I want to see my family and tell them I’m alive. My name was y/n. I found my file and I just-“ 

You were disgusted that you ever told him such things. 

“LET GO!” 

“We can help with your list.” It’s the caption saying this, his face holding pity. “We can’t kill but we can help take them down. If you’re willing.” 

“They all deserve to die!” The one holding you counted in that. 

“I’m not arguing that. But I am setting boundaries. Justice by more death is not the way to do this.” The man tries to ease, attempting a smile. “I’m Sam. You already know Buck-“ 

“Let me go!” 

“We’re proposing a partnership. We help you take them down, get them arrested and you don’t kill any of them.” 

“Right. And I get thrown in a cell right after I’m assuming.” You sneer, trying not to focus on the scent of hazel and coffee coating your senses from the soldier. 

“You will be pardoned. You had no choice back then and we are giving you one now. Pardoned.” 

“And what do you mean by taking them down?” What choice did you have? 

- 

It had been a week with the soldier when he finally showed a small amount of emotion. Insane. 

You had been huddled in the corner of the abandoned hotel you made camp in, keeping close to yourself for warmth as he pretended to sleep by the wall. You knew he wasn’t actually asleep, not trusting enough to do so. And you don’t know when he does get sleep, all you know is you fight to the last possible moment your eyelids can stay open and you don’t sleep long. 

The exhaustion and the cold were beginning to wear you down, a week in and you had yet to kill a single person on this list because the Soldat refused to listen to how you can manage it. With him it’s all silent and watching, your missions were usually more lively. You wore disguises and set traps. Hydra liked sending messages and it’s what you did. 

They want a quick and efficient widow? They send Belova. They want a widow that draws attention to their dangers? A prize possession? They send you. 

Which is why this entire mission is so weird. Why send you if- before you can finish your thought you are being pelted with a warm jacket, the Soldat glaring at you. 

“Your teeth chattering is keeping me up.” He mutters in Russian, sitting up and checking all his weapons. 

“As if you sleep.” You reply back in Russian, rolling your eyes. His eyes flick to you in surprise for just a second before he trains them again, watching the window in the opposite corner. “What’s your name?” 

“Soldat.” 

“What’s your real name?” 

“I….. should the viper be asking questions?” He snaps, glaring once more before you roll your eyes and stand up. He watches your every move as you toss his jacket back and cross the room. “Where are you going?” 

“To be a viper.” You sneer back, enjoying the way the Russian makes the words bite out more. 

He stands up quickly when you move to climb out the window but you send him a glare and descend quickly, making sure he does not follow. 

When you get back three hours later, he is standing in the center of the room with his arms crossed and a glare on his features. 

You simply walk past him to grab your list, crossing off the first name. “Can we get an actual hotel this time? I need to shower some of this blood off.” 

As you move to walk past him his arm shoots out to grab you, pain erupting as he bends your neck to look at him. You would allow this, because is his anger is on you then he won’t look into the 2 little children you helped vanish tonight after you killed their father. 

“You do not make moves without me. Understood?” 

“Yes Soldat.” You try to nod before he lets go. 

“Viper.” He hisses. And you would allow it, because if anyone knew what you had done you would be killed. 

-

The three of you ended up in a warehouse not too far away from the roof you had been scouting on, bucky carrying your bag of weapons on his shoulder as he tried not to look at you while Sam paced back and forth. 

You sat on a fallen beam, seeming bored and uninterested as you picked at your nails. But Bucky knew that was your game, to let the world think you were a valid assassin with little to no care. 

But he knew you cared, he knew how much effort you had put into saving kids back then. You had always been so warm without even realizing it. 

But maybe that all changed, after it….. all happened he hadn’t heard about you again and after he was freed by Steve he couldn't seem to find any of the children you had saved. 

“What happened to them?” He finds himself asking, his chest pinching at the sight of you. His flower. But that look in your eyes, the betrayal and anger….. 

“The first three on my list? I dumped their bodies in the river.” You smile, turning your glare to Sam. “How about that pardon now?”

“The kids. The ones that you-“ you stand before he can finish his sentence , both him and Sam preparing for a fight as you seem to try and ease yourself. 

“What kids?” Sam snaps, anger and protectiveness rolling off of him. “Did you hurt-“ 

“No. She used to smuggle them out.” Bucky explains. “When she got missions if there was a kid in the family she would pretend to kill them, and help the kid out.” 

“I thought hydra confirmed kills by bodies.” 

“Not when you’re the best.” You smile, that vapid venomous smile that made Bucky's stomach churn. “And Soldat is right. I used to smuggle the kids out.” 

His chest hurts at the name you use, but he assumes that it’s fair. “Where are they now?” 

He wants you to look at him, to tell him they are all safe and that he didn’t ruin everything. But you keep your eyes trained away, pain flashing through your features as you explain. “After you…. Told them….. they got the names and locations from me and sent out the shadow widow.” 

“Kaltain Amerie.” Sam nods, recognizing the name. She was married to a fancy rich guy now, had been the one Yelena found. 

“She took care of what I couldn’t. She did the job.” You nod, hands fisting at your sides as the words clang into Bucky. “And I was punished for my failure.” 

“And the missions you got after they caught you?” Sam asks, casting a brief look to bucky at the word caught. 

“I had a partner, and they always made sure I did my job.” Fuck. 

He was going to puke, how many kids had….. 

“You mentioned an alliance. Not an interrogation.” You snap, obviously uncomfortable. “And if you want to revoke my pardon because of-“ 

“I don’t.” Sam says gently, nodding. “And I’m sorry that it happened.” 

“I’m not.” It was a lie and Bucky could taste it. Anything to keep both of them away, that wall you built up when he first met you. 

“Okay. The name on your list. Let’s talk about how to get him.” Bucky changes direction, wanting to get you to ease again, not liking the pain in your eyes. 

You continue to avoid looking in his direction, and he continues to stare at only you. 

- 

She needed cold hard proof so I gave her some

She had the envelope, where you think she got it from?

Now she gets the house, gets the kids, gets the pride

Picture me thick as thieves with your ex-wife

And she looks so pretty

Driving in your Benz

Lately she's been dressing for revenge

-

It’s a month into the mission when the Soldat tells you his name. 

Gone were the days of sleeping on opposite sides of the room, now you both shared a bed. Gone were the days of him not sleeping, and he was now the one that fell asleep first. 

Tonight being one of those nights, with you sitting against the headboard of the hotel bed, his forehead pressed into your thigh as he falls asleep slowly, letting you play with his hair as you review footage of your next name. The third on the list. 

“My name….” He mutters, this time in English which still shocks you everytime he does. “It’s Bucky.” 

“Bucky?” It tastes like vanilla on your tongue, your chest lightening as you whisper it a couple more times. “I like it.” 

“What’s yours?” 

“My file…. My file says Y/n.” You whisper back and he tilts his head up to look at you. 

“You don’t seem to like it.” 

“I….. it just doesn’t feel real.” You admit. “It feels wrong for me to use it.” 

“I think it’s a wonderful name. It suits you well but… I think you’re my flower.” He murmurs back, moving to press his forehead into your thigh once more and finally lets sleep claim him. 

The next morning you both work in tandem, cleaning weapons, he gives you time to make sure that your knives are still potent with venom as you try to come up with a plan to get the 5 year old girl out of the country without the soldier knowing. 

But the betrayal of it hurts your chest, watching him work around you as a smooth unit. A team. That’s what you had become. 

“Ready?” He asks in Russian, coming up to fix the hair that had fallen out of your braid, using his flesh hand to push it behind your ear as his thumb traces your jaw. 

“Always. You?” 

“With you my little flower? Always.” 

-

It was ironic the way you and the Soldat still worked in tandem, moving with an effortless grace. 

Sam, the captain, watches with wide eyes as you both move around each other. 

“Do we have-“ 

“Yes we have enough intel.” You snap, closing the camera footage the second you spot the young boy running down the hall of the mansion when both him and his mom get home. The pain in your chest could be blamed on the image, and or the stupid soldier standing too close to you. “I can smell your breath.” 

“He ate a cheeseburger for lunch again?” Sam chuckles and you stand straight, giving him wide eyes as the Soldat rolls his own. “You know you can’t get in trouble for calling him an idiot, right?” 

“I’m aware.” Your words come out clipped and you try not to shudder at the way Sam snickers, catching your lie. 

“Say it.” 

“Say what?”

“Call Barnes a dumbass.” 

“I won’t speak to the Soldat.” You reply, moving to clean your knives. 

“Oh come on. Try it. It helps me..” sam laughs, sitting across from you at the kitchen counter as the Soldat shuffles closer to help you clean the knives. You could feel the warmth radiating off of him. 

“You….. are a dumbass.” You squeak out, not looking at him. You hear him snort behind you and he reaches across to grab another knife. You roll your eyes at the way he presses his body next to yours. 

“That was lame. Try again.” Sam laughs. 

“Fine. You’re a DUMBASS!” You snap out, watching both their eyes widen before laughs break out and they start cracking up. 

You feel your stiff spine loosen a little, the anxiety easing as you start laughing as well, all three of you cackling. His flesh hand finds its way to your lower back to keep you stable as you both drop the knives to laugh. And finally, after three weeks of working with them you drop the angry front, and give in to their warmth even though everything in you screams to not fall for it. 

-

“Is this….. proper mission food?” You ask from the spot you had taken at the window, watching Bucky and Sam come in with pizza boxes and beer in their hands, both laughing at each other . 

Bucky had, sort of tripped up on the stairs which sent Sam in a spiral of making fun of him, but the second they laid eyes on you that humor fell out the window, both going quiet. 

“You don’t think pizza and beer are good?” Sam asks, offended. “This is the best combo.” 

“Is it…. Allowed?” You ask again and Bucky feels that pang in his chest before he passes the box to you and opens it smoothly. 

“You get the first slice pick.” He offers and Sam gasps at the counter. 

“That….. oh that’s just cruel to me.” 

“It’s an honor to pick the first slice then?” You quirk your eyebrow, humor written on your face, the spark in your eyes setting him on fire. “This is a New York custom?”

“Oh indeed.” He smiles, pushing the box closer to you. “It would be a great dishonor to refuse this.”

There is a second of discomfort, he watches you contemplate it before you reach for a slice, grabbing the largest slice and raising your eyebrows as you wait to see their reactions. 

“Perfect choice!” Sam grunts, reaching around you to grab another slice. 

“I was going to choose that one.” Bucky smiles, watching you bite it immediately then stick out your tongue at him before taking up a spot on the couch as both of them find their own seats in the living room. You seem tense still, obviously not used to this sort of freedom anymore and his lungs constrict at the thought that this was caused by him. 

Back then you had been so… warm and open. Even as an agent you melted the ice exterior the soldier had around him. And through the muddled haze of his memory every memory attached to you was always crystal clear, like a flame in the fog. 

“So…. you guys knew each other back when he was the Winter Soldier?” Sam asks, popping the lid off of a beer with ease, he leans forward on his knees and pretends to be more interested in the pizza box. Making it seem like he was an open book, a comforting thing. 

“Yeah, we had a long list of enemies that they wanted us to deal with.” You answer, looking to the window rather than either of them. 

“It seems like it went wrong…” 

“It went fine.” Bucky is quick to snap. 

“It was fine. We made it through half the list, before Hydra had to get involved.” You snap as well moving to set the rest of your slice on the plate left on the table for you. “I made a mistake.”

“It wasn’t-” Bucky goes to argue, chest tight.

“I let emotions muddle my task.” You explain to Sam. “I got too attached and ruined it. And then I got caught smuggling the kids out- I was further reported for my behavior and handled accordingly.”

“Hey, this isn’t Hydra.” Sam tries to ease you. “I think what you did was very noble and-”

“All I did was give kids hope where it didn’t belong.” You sneer. “I will never allow myself that weakness again.” 

You cast Bucky a glare, his palms sweating and chest blistering as he watches you disappear into the bathroom and the shower running a second later. 

Sam continues watching Bucky, eyebrows pinched together. “You reported it?”

“I… as much as I broke away at that time I was still under the soldiers spell.” Bucky admits, gulping down half the beer in his hand. “I…. I had sent in a mission report. Well I had to send it in and I had caught her plan a little bit before that.”

“I’m sorry that happened, Buck.”

“I am too.” He sighs. “I got rewarded and she… well they broke her.”

- 

She don't start it, but she can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

She don't dress for friends

Lately she's been dressing for revenge

- 

“You need to be careful in the upper levels.” He warns, keeping his flesh hand on the small of your back as you both move to start scaling the side of the house. 

“I know.” You growl out, keeping your voice low as his eyebrows pinch in frustration. “Don’t be a worry wart.”

“Stick to my side.”

“The job is quicker if I take care of the kids.” You mumble, leaning up to kiss his cheek lightly, the closest you had ever gotten to actually kissing him, no matter how much you wanted to. Three months with him and you were hopelessly in love. 

“Fine.” He grunts out, his Russian sharp. He nods once before moving to his starting point, checking that you had begun scaling the wall to the kids room before heading in to handle the parents. But you had been so caught up in Bucky that you didn’t check to make sure both the children were asleep. 

The girl screamed first, followed by the boy and you began rushing to ease their worries, kneeling by them and trying to swipe the tears away. “No no. Easy my little ones. It’s okay. I just need you to listen-”

But the boy screams again, this time at something behind you which makes you whirl to find Bucky in the frame of the door, watching intently with blood on his arm. 

“No! Please!” You beg, up on your feet and shoving yourself in front of the children as he cocks his head to the side. “Please.”

“Move.” He orders, raising his gun. It seems he’s already assessed the weakness and was willing to handle the problem. “Now.”

“No!” You hadn’t even realized that tears were falling down your face until you could taste the salt, moving forward to grab his gun. “Please!”

“The mission-”

“They are children.” Both of you were speaking Russian, which seemed to be scaring the kids even more as they wailed, and you turned to ease them again. They dash into your arms, holding you tight as they sob. You would die before letting anything happen to them. 

When you turn to see him again you see that he has lowered the gun and is merely staring at you, something sparking in his eyes. 

You wait for the blow, but it never comes. Instead he nods his head and moves to pick up the boy. He helps you get them out, aboard a ship and hidden from Hydra. When you make it back to the hotel you pace a bit, waiting for him to finish you off. 

But he merely stands in the center of the room, watching you closely. 

“I’m sorry.” You sob, hand on your chest as you turn to him finally. “I failed the mission and-”

He moves forward in three easy strides, his hands grasping your jaw to bring you up into a searing kiss, arms wrapping around you tightly as he lifts you off the ground to keep you close. And all anxieties peel away, as he lifts his hand to undo your suit. Giving yourself to the soldier that night, and once you were done you stay huddled together, whispering your dreams of the past and future. 

And for once you felt like…. You were home. 

- 

The next morning tensions were gone, and you seemed to have forgotten about the night before. Or at least you were pretending to, and Bucky didn’t know if he should be happy or angry at the fact. 

You had combed through all the footage of the target, piling it all into a folder and he had sent the flash drive to the people needed that would be able to get him arrested. And after that had been sent you had sent out another envelope to his wife, with proof of an affair so she would be able to divorce him. 

And just like that another name was taken off your list, and Bucky tried not to feel the pressure at the fact that he was sure you would be gone the second the list was done. And he wouldn’t have an excuse to see you anymore. 

He’s lucky Sam went along with this plan in the first place. 

“Where is Sam?” You ask from your spot at the counter, legs crossed as you play with one of your knives, watching him closely where he sits on the couch. 

“He went to go check on his sister and her kids.” He answers, looking up to you. “They are really close.”

“That’s nice.” You hum, dropping the knife out of boredom. “What comes next?”

“You got another name?”

“Are we allowed to start without Sam?” You ask, eyebrows pinching together. 

“Yes. We can. Your list?” 

“Front pocket of my duffel.” You hum out, something having caught your attention. He reaches for the bag and checks for the list as you shuffle closer to his open laptop. For a second he hears you hesitate, but he had already made it clear that you had access to anything so he nods and lets you look as he finds the paper you wrote the list on. 

His eyes skim across the names, landing on the very last name as his heart stops. ‘Bucky Barnes’ , and no matter how many times you blink the name does not disappear. Why did you let him see this? Was this a trap set?

He whirls, only to find you staring at the screen unblinking. “Flower?”

Your head snaps to glare at him as he shuffles closer, shoving your list in his pocket and looking at what had caught your attention. He finds an old sitcom, a scene with a mother curled up with her kids and reading them a bedtime story. 

“You never told me why.” He mutters, sitting on the couch with you on the floor staring at the screen again. 

“Why what?”

“Why did you risk your life for all those kids?”

“Because they… because no one fought for me back then.” You admit, turning to look at him. “What is this show?”

“Full house. I don’t know, Steve put it on my list.”

“Your list?” You ask and he nods. 

“Things to catch up on.” He smiles. “Like the star wars series.”

“The what?” He blinks slowly at your question, purely shocked.  

- 

Three hours later you are both sprawled out on the couch, pillows and blankets thrown about with snacks everywhere. Bucky had dragged you out to the store, buying tons of snacks that you had never tried before and before you knew it the apartment cupboards were packed with snacks and you were preparing to see the first star wars. 

“Should we… have brought all this to the mission base?”

“The what?” He laughs, leaning forward to snatch a gummy worm from the bag you were holding. 

“The… this apartment. Are we allowed to use it for this?”

“It’s my apartment.” He shrugs, and you blink slowly. 

“It’s empty though.” 

“I have a couch!” He scoffs. “And a tv!”

“No bed, no plushy towels or…. This is your home?” You didn’t know why this upset you. “You live like this?”

You want to kill him. You want to kill him. Why does this matter?

“I have a welcome mat.” He points to the door. 

“That’s an ugly welcome mat.” 

“Is not.”

“That would scare away any child on halloween.” You snap. “Are you trying to ruin their halloween?” 

“No one really comes up here on halloween.” He shrugs again. “Why does it matter?”

“You… you’ve been free! You have been free this whole time and this is how you live and- I…..”

“I had other things to worry about besides Hydra. And John Walker. Tony Stark and the snap and- well I was trying to find you.” He admits. 

“You were trying to find me?” Your chest constricts, as you watch him. “You tried to find me?”

“I did but after I was freed it was like they made you completely disappear and I’m assuming it’s because they knew I would start looki-” Before he can finish his sentence his phone rings and he sees Sams name, giving you an apologetic look before picking it up. You take a moment to try and fix yourself, taking deep breaths in. “He WHAT?”

This catches your attention, sitting up to watch him carefully as he stands. “I’ll be right there.”

He hangs up and nods. “I gotta go help Sam. Stay here and-”

“I’m coming with you.” You snap, moving to grab your duffel.

“No, we have a situation with John Walker and I need to-”

“I am coming.” And just like that you grab your suit, giving him your best glare as he shakes his head. “You both are helping me. The least I can do is help you.”

“You don’t have to.” He mumbles. 

“But I will. Let’s go.”

- 

Ladies always rise above

Ladies know what people want

Someone sweet and kind and fun

The lady simply had enough

- 

“Thank you.” You whisper, keeping your head on his chest as you trace patterns along his skin. “Thank you for helping.”

“If you got away what would you do?”

“Me? I….. I would find the kids and make sure they made it. I would buy a house and get a cheesy welcome mat for it. I would decorate for halloween and….. And I would adopt a kid and-” You could taste the freedom, imagine it right there. A happy life. 

“That sounds… amazing, flower.” 

You lift your head, smiling softly as you lean up to kiss him, and he smiles back before moving to kiss you back. 

You feel him stiffen before sitting up quickly and reaching for his knife. “Bucky?”

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles. “I’m so sorry.”

Before you can realize the door is blown open and agents rush in to grab you. 

- 

“Oh…. oh I like this duo.” John Walker smiles, watching you stand slightly behind Bucky with your arms crossed. He doesn’t say a word and neither do you, both giving him a good glare. The Winter Soldier and The Viper. “I hadn’t realized that Bucko boy came with his very own sidekick.”

“этот идиот знает, что от него пахнет рыбой?” (does this imbecile know he smells of fish?) You ask, sneering a bit and taking a step closer to Bucky. “и так небрежно использовать свое имя. Я могу сломать этого человека за считанные минуты.” (and to use your first name so casually. I can break this man within minutes.)

“Я с нетерпением жду этого. Еще я очень голоден, мармеладных червячков мне не хватило, чтобы поесть..” (I look forward to it. I'm also very hungry, gummy worms were not a sufficient meal)

You nod, trying not to smile as he gives you a look over his shoulder while Walker shuffles uncomfortably on his feet. “Shouldn’t we all speak english?”

“Maybe.” Sam shrugs. “But I find it’s easier to let these two do their thing. You said something about a raid?”

“There is a train heading down south here in 30 minutes and I know for a fact that there are rebels planning on stealing what’s on it.”

“What’s so important about what’s on the train?” Bucky asks, casting a look towards you and you see him catalog each and every one of your weapons just as he always used to do as the soldat. You give him a glare and he shrugs. 

“Weapons.” John mutters. “And if we can intercept the rebels then-”

“You get your job back?” Sam snides.  John stutters for a second and you snort, enjoying the panic on his face. He glares at you, preparing to say something as you step forward to grab one of your knives. You had no clue who this man was but it was easy to know that he was not an ally. 

“Get your-”

“She’s not a dog.” Sam snaps, as Bucky sneers. “We’ll help, but on our terms. No one gets hurt and no one gets pummeled without cause.”

“Fine. Let’s see what you guys can do.” John sneers at you both, and Bucky sends you an easy smile over his shoulder as you smile back. 

“Устроить им ад?” (Give them hell?) 

“следую твоему примеру, Барнс.” (Following your lead, Barnes) You smile back, both of you swiveling to Sam and moving together. 

- 

You stand with him on a bridge, keeping a hand on his arm to stabilize yourself as you keep an eye on the ledge, fixing the comm in your ear with your other hand as he does the same. 

“I….. I never wanted to betray you.” He blurts, as John tries to convince Sam to give him one of their comms, his argument of ‘I’m part of the team!’ almost making you snort. But Bucky’s words kept your attention as you tried to play it cool. Keeping your eyes trained on the bridge before you. 

“Is this a good time to talk about this?” You mutter in Russian, just in case Walker could hear you both like you could hear him. 

“It was the status report. They were making me do it every month and….. I fought it. I really tried to fight it.” He admits in russian, casting a look to Walker before turning back to you, his hand shooting out to wrap around your arm as you lean to prepare a landing. “Careful.”

“I thought…. You were…. Nevermind it was my mistake.”

“It wasn’t a mistake.” He snaps, pulling you closer. “It… It was everything to me.”

“I shouldn’t have. I should have kept my eyes on the mission and I ruined it and I ruined it for those kids. You were a weapon dangled before me, they knew I would fall for it. They knew I would fall for the freedom of it. And I’m sure they already knew that I was helping those kids and they just needed to prove-” The words are spilling out and you just can’t seem to stop them, tears beginning to fill your eyes. “I just wanted… I just wanted to help them.”

“You did.” He mumbles, moving until his chest is pressed to your shoulder. “Please look at me.” 

“I messed it all up.”

“You didn’t mess anything up-”

“I did. I fell in love.” You finally look at him, tears in your eyes as he takes a deep breath in. 

“I-”

“Incoming.” It’s Sam's voice in the comms that makes you both jump before you look to see the train coming. 

“On it.” You mumble back in english, stabbing a knife into the brick beneath you as Bucky keeps a hold on your arm. 

“Be careful, we’ll be right behind. Keep a knife ready and-”

“I’ve got it.” You laugh, watching the train get closer and closer. 

“I just worry.” He admits, leaning forward to kiss your cheek softly. “And just so we are clear, I fell in love too.”

You try not to smile, giving him one last look before using the chord and launching down as you hear Sam count down in the comms, feet landing on the top of the train with a thud before you dive for the top grate and begin working on tearing it off. 

You manage to tear it off in time to duck and lay flat as a sign under the bridge appears, managing to avoid it before crouching and climbing in as the train breaks from the bridge, three heavy sets of footprints hit the top of it while you climb across boxes to get to the end of the cart. 

“Viper?!” Walker calls, landing in the crate followed by Bucky and Sam. You don’t bother answering, too busy trying to lift the shaft on the cart. 

“You good?” Sam asks, coming to your side. 

“I’m fine.” You mumble. “I can handle the mission sir-”

“Did you just sir me?” Sam laughs, leaning to help you with the shaft, letting the sunlight break in as the wind snaps in both your faces. 

“You guys see anything?” John yells across the way as Bucky hops over a box and reaches you both. 

You have just enough time to turn, ready to bite a response to Walker when you spot the bomb taped to the far wall. Your mouth opens in an attempt to yell a warning but it’s too late. It all blasts to shit. 

- 

There was nothing but pain as you hung suspended in the cell, the Shadow Widow sneering at you from her spot in the corner while Valkov took a break from torturing you. Your breathing is ragged, blood falling out of your mouth with the saliva as your eyes water. 

You can no longer feel your legs, and your fingernails had been torn out first. Sobs racking through your body as he asks the question again, his russian loud. 

“WHERE ARE THE LOOSE ENDS?!!”

You couldn’t betray the kids, you couldn’t do it. So when he picked up the drill you closed your eyes, sobbing once more as you try to blink Buckys face out of your memory, succumbing to your punishment. 

- 

Heat blasts against his back as you scream out, Sam yelling loudly, all three of you grasping anything you can as the train keeps going. 

Bucky’s metal arm finds purchase on a broken handle of the train, trying to pull himself up as Sam grips the side grates of the train trying to activate his falcon wings while you struggle to keep hold of what is left of the floorboard in the train car, nails scraping as you grimace in pain while your legs stay suspended in the air. 

“HOLD ON!” He calls, reaching his flesh hand for you before the metal of the door groans and he has to freeze. 

Walker appears, bleeding from his ears and looking frazzled as hell, but Bucky breathes out a sigh of relief when he sees the idiot reach to help you. Hope that you would make it out of this mess, that is until John stumbles as he reaches for your hand and ends up making you lose your holding. 

You scream out, nails scraping as you slide out, nearly all your body suspended in the air. Both Bucky and Sam scream, reaching for you before they realize they can’t. 

“When does this fucking bridge end?” Bucky snaps, looking down to the hundreds of feet below, memories flashing in his mind. 

“Language.” Sam grunts, exhaling in relief when he sees you manage to grab the final woodboard, your last chance at holding on. 

“Complete the mission.” You snap. “I can get up.”

“We don’t leave each other behind.” Bucky grunts, using his flesh hand to reach for a rope connected to the roof of the train car. 

“Hydra tells us we need to complete the missi-”

“This isn’t Hydra and I’m not leaving my girl on this train.” Bucky snaps and Sam whoops out a loud ‘fuck hydra’ as they both struggle to get to the main opening. 

There are thuds on top of the train and you risk a look to see multiple hooded figures with bags getting ready to ransack the weapons. A grunt of anger passes through you as let one hand free from the board, much to Bucky's chagrin as he yells out for you before you reach and grab your compact launcher you had hidden in the belt of your suit and shoot the roof with the grappling hook, pulling yourself up right in time for Walker to fall back into the car. 

“This manchild is useless.” You sneer, reaching for Bucky immediately, hands grasping his tactical vest and dragging him as much as you can into the train car as Sam struggles to get in as well. 

“There are about 15 figures. We should have about 10 minutes before they blow the rest of this train up.” You explain, keeping your hands on his shoulders as you assess him. “Are you hurt?”

“No I’m-”

“I’m hurt!” Walker calls, making you hiss an unappealing word at him in russian before moving to look at Sam. 

“Do you want the viper or me on this mission?”

“Viper would be nice.” Sam nods, looking at all the weapons. “Viper for sure.”

You nod, turning to assess Bucky one more time before he nods at you and you both begin working.   

- 

While he was doing lines

And crossing all of mine

Someone told his white collar crimes to the FBI

And I don't dress for villains

Or for innocents

I'm on my vigilante shh again

- 

You both work in tandem, every punch he throws shoves the person straight into your kick. You slash your knife at anyone that gets too close to him, slicing their skin easily as he snipes out anyone rushing to the train. 

Sam is finding the rest of the bombs, disarming them to the best of his ability. 

You hiss in pain when you get hit in the jaw, but Bucky is there smashing the butt of his gun to the back of their head as you blink away the tears. His hand finds your jaw, assessing the damage before turning and nodding to the path you guys need. 

“So…. what’s the plan after this?” He asks, huffing as he gets to the slate you had originally been planning on clearing. 

“After this? Probably dinner.” You laugh, bending to break the controls. He adjusts himself so you were back to back, him watching to make sure you were good. 

“I mean…. After this mission.” 

“I….. I want to finish the list.” You answer, tearing out a board to access the rest of the control panel. 

“Does that list still include me?” He blurts, making you freeze. When you don’t answer he looks down to see you already staring up at him with wide eyes. 

“You saw that?”

“On your list. Highlighted and everything.” He nods, snapping his attention to a thud across the way, finding it empty. It was enough to get you back to work, focusing on the wires and buttons again. “I would understand if you wanted to-”

“I don’t anymore.” You snap. “I don’t think I ever would have been able to but it’s not like I planned to make it far after I got out. I didn’t have a plan. Everyone else had a plan and I was left! I was tortured and maimed for wanting that freedom, and when the time came I was the only one that had nothing to live for.” 

You were seething, and he could only agree. He hated the other widows for what they did to you, that would never be forgiven. 

“I wanted a family. That’s all I wanted.” You whisper, finally breaking the right chord. The lights immediately die out and the train lurches as it comes to a complete stop. 

“Is that still what you want?” He whispers back, holding his hand out for you to grab and help you up. 

“I don’t deserve it.” 

“You are the only person in this entire universe that deserves that.” He snaps. “And it’s important to me that you know that.”

“It’s not like I have much of a future open.”

“Well I think you have a bit of a future in the vigilante game if you ask me.” He smiles. 

- 

I don't start it, but I can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

I don't dress for friends

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

- 

“I’m sorry, you used to what?!” Sarah laughs, coming around the kitchen counter to grab a bottle of soda from your hand, eyes wide. “Dip your knives in lethal poison.”

“It made things easier. Even if I didn’t hit a vital organ I still knew the job was done.” You explain, shrugging a bit as she laughs. You still got nervous when talking about your past, but Sarah seemed anything but judgemental. 

Sam's sister ended up being your very best friend on this earth, which surprised you to no end. You loved her kids and you loved her. You especially loved girls night because you never thought this would be an option in general. Nonetheless you had friends now. You had a home, with a silly little welcome mat that was left on the porch for the trick or treaters every year. 

The very same one that was getting trampled on every time Sarahs kids ran through with your adopted children, covered in mud and laughing loudly. 

“Hey! Mind your mess!” She snaps out but you can’t stop smiling as you watch your adopted 4 year old chase after one of her sons. 

“What are you up to?” Bucky asks, coming in from the garage with Sam and Joaquin smiling from ear to ear as he rushes to kiss at your jaw. 

“We are getting ready.” You laugh, shooing him away. 

“For?”

“The Eras movie. You have daughters now Barnes. You need to get with the program.” Sarah scoffs playfully, making her brother laugh as they pick up the snacks and head to the living room. 

“Hey…. I just wanted to say thank you for your help on the mission the other day.” Torres smiles before following the rest into the living room leaving you with Bucky. 

“Hear that? Vigilante shit right there.” You laugh, leaning forward to kiss him. 

“Still waiting for you to kill me.” He whispers against your lips, winking before heading to catch your daughter as she tries to dash past, making her laugh loudly and reach for you.

[cobrakaisb]

if he wanted to he would

summary: luca knows that if he wanted to he would, but how can he make you see that?

word count: 1.8k 

song referenced: if he wanted to he would by johnny orlando

the frigid michigan air was cold against your bare shoulders. it was so cold outside that you could see your breath in the air; each exhale leaving behind a small, white cloud. your hands rubbed up and down your arms, trying to create some warmth. anything that would prevent your teeth from chattering, but as you continued to walk down the pavement, it seemed more and more like a losing battle. you halted at the corner, realizing that you had no clue where you actually were or how to get back to your dorm room.

you fumbled around in your bag for a minute, the small purse coming in handy. you were hyper-aware of your surroundings and the reality that someone could very easily take advantage of your situation; you were lost, cold, and desperate. finally, your fingers wrapped around your phone. without hesitating, almost like a reflex, you dialed luca’s number. he answered halfway through the first ring. 

“y/n? are you okay? i thought you and jackson were going out tonight?” he asked, referencing your boyfriend. “luca. can you come pick me up? please?” you begged, stuttering a bit from how cold you are. luca, without any further questioning, said, “send me your location. adam and i are on our way.” you thank him profusely, pulling the phone away from your ear to send him your location. “can we stay on call?” you whispered, nervously looking over your shoulder. nobody was there, but you were still afraid. “of course,” luca agreed. you hear the sound of a door shutting and an engine rumbling to life, letting you know that luca was on his way. 

within ten minutes of calling luca, their car was pulling up. adam parked in front of you, barely stopping the car, before luca jumped out. “god y/n, you’re fucking freezing,” luca observed, shoving off his jacket as he draped it over your shoulders. you slid your arms through the sleeves, zipping the coat up to your chin. “i forgot a jacket,” you explained, putting your hands inside the pockets of his hockey jacket. “i can tell. c’mere,” luca instructed, pulling you into his chest. his arms rub up and down your arms, trying to provide you with more warmth. “let’s get in the car,” he said, opening the back door for you. you accepted his offer, sitting inside the heated vehicle. 

adam started the car, and that’s when luca decided to speak up: “where is jackson? why did he let you leave like that?” you made eye contact with luke, a sad and dejected look in your eyes. “he’s at the party still. he didn’t want to leave,” you explained softly, fingers drawing circles on your thighs. luca’s jaw clenched at your words. there was nothing in this world that he hated more than jackson.

jackson was your boyfriend, if you could even call him that. the guy was never around. he was always ditching you for someone else, whether it be his friends or other girls, there was always something more pressing, more important, than you. in luca’s humble opinion, he was a total shithead who didn’t deserve you.

“and he just let you leave?” luca asked, anger coursing through him. from the front seat, adam made eye contact with his brother, telling the older boy to drop it. “he probably doesn’t even know he left. nobody could tell where he was, and he didn’t answer his phone,” you answered. luca huffed, crossing his arms as he leant back in his seat. nobody said anything for the rest of the car ride. it wasn’t until luca and adam dropped you off at your dorm that the silence was broken. 

“i’m sorry y/n,” luca apologized. “it’s fine luca. thanks for coming to get me, i really appreciate it,” you said, giving him a sad smile. luca nodded, his mood just as somber as yours. “i’ll see you tomorrow okay? at the hockey game,” you said, a happier gleam in your eyes. “see you tomorrow,” luca agreed, waiting until you closed your dorm door to leave. 

--

the next time jackson completely abandoned you was during an event your sorority was hosting. it was a dance competition that different groups were performing in, including some of your sisters. you and another girl, callie, were asked to emcee the event. it was a big night for you, an important night for you. luca was glad to be there, to finally support you after all those times you’ve supported him. he even managed to drag his brother and some of their hockey friends with him. 

upon walking in the auditorium, luca spotted you right away. you were standing on the stage, shuffling through a handful of note cards, going over something with callie. you looked absolutely gorgeous. your hair and makeup was done in a way that luca knew made you feel confident, but the best part of your little ensemble was the black dress. it was fitting, hugging you in all the right places, while simultaneously sparkling in the stage lights. you in that little black dress would be engraved in his mind forever. 

“she looks stunning,” rutger observed, leaning over to look at luca. “i know,” the older boy agreed, swallowing thickly while his hands gripped tightly at the bouquet of flowers he bought you. 

finally, the show started. you and callie were the perfect duo, cracking jokes, poking fun at different groups, and keeping the audience engaged. the entire night, you were smiling. you must be an angel, luca thought, because you were glowing. whether that was from your happiness or the lights reflecting off your dress he didn’t know. he couldn’t wait to see you at the end of the show. 

“y/n!” luca shouted, standing with adam, rutger, and the others. you turned your head, making direct eye contact with him. your eyes lit up at the sight of him standing there waiting for you. you smiled, walking over to him. “luca! thanks so much for coming,” you said, wrapping him in a tight hug. he smiled. “it was your big night. i wouldn’t dream of missing it,” luca explained, holding out the flowers for you to take. 

you gasped at his kind gesture, looking between him and the bouquet. “you got me flowers?” you asked, gently taking them from him. “isn’t that what people do? i don’t know…it seemed fitting,” he mumbled, scratching at the back of his neck in an awkward manner. “i love them,” you confessed, squeezing his forearm, which you were holding onto. 

“anyways, we wanted to take you out for dinner, so get jackson and we can go,” luca said, gesturing to the group behind him. your face fell at his words, a sad look replacing your happy one. “we can just leave from here. jackson’s not coming,” you answered quietly, fingers brushing over the petals of a flower as you transfixed your eyes on them. luca’s jaw clenched at your words. he knew what that meant, jackson wasn’t here. once again he disappeared and left you alone, probably feeding you some lie as to why he couldn’t attend. 

his arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. his fingers rubbed circles on the exposed skin of your shoulders from the dress. “let’s go then,” luca announces, leading the group out of the venue and towards the car. once everyone is packed into the car, your body flushed against luca’s side, adam starts driving towards the restaurant. it’s an italian one, a small yet popular place that you discovered with luca shortly after orientation. it was your favorite spot to eat off campus. 

at the table, once the waiter had taken your drink orders, rutger is the first to speak: “you were amazing y/n, truly. i was prepared to be so bored, but you kept me entertained.” you smiled, feeling bashful at his compliments and johnny’s incessant nodding. “yeah! you were like sparkling in the lights too. it was cool,” johnny joins in. “thanks guys. i appreciate you all coming,” you say softly, fingers tracing the coaster in front of you. “we wouldn’t miss it. luca wouldn’t miss it,” adam says, giving you a pointed look. 

you can read between the lines. you know he’s throwing a dig at jackson, your boyfriend who couldn’t even show up for you tonight. he abandoned you, again, probably telling you another lie in the process. as adam’s words rang out throughout your head, you realized something that should have been obvious from the start: if jackson wanted to, he would. how many times had he ditched you? made you cry? feel horrible about yourself? lied to you? how many times had he tore your heart to pieces only for you to put it back together? how many times had he sent you crying to luca?

you risked a glance at the older boy, who’s eyes were already focusing on you. if he wanted to he would, you thought, and luca did. he was always there for you. whether it was random hours of the night, the middle of the day, an important event, or just another mediocre monday. he brought you flowers. he complimented you and built up your confidence as opposed to tearing it down. he treated you the way you deserved to be treated. 

without thinking you grabbed his hand, the one resting on the table. you gave it a slight tug, signaling for him to lean down a bit. “come outside with me? please,” you ask. luca nods, zero hesitation. the two of you excuse yourself from the table, exiting the restaurant quickly. 

“you okay?” he asks when the two of you are outside. you nod, taking a deep breath. “i just, i realized something tonight,” you whisper, taking a step closer to him. “if jackson wanted to he would, and i don’t really think he wants to. and i…i don’t want him to. there’s someone else who will treat me infinitely better than him,” you explain, twiddling with your fingers. 

luca took in a sharp breath; his heart breaking a little bit. “that person is you, luca. you’re the best thing i’ve ever had, and i don’t know how i didn’t see it before,” you finish, finally making eye contact with him. his eyes are wide, an uncertain look on his face. he’s silent, and it makes you nervous. you bite your lip, worry eating away at your insides. maybe this was a mistake. but then his hands cup your cheeks, pulling your lips to his. they connect, and it’s perfect. you swear there are sparks because how could he be kissing you like this without eliciting some reaction? 

finally, luca pulls away, his forehead resting against yours. “you, and this little black dress,” he begins, one hand trailing down to play with the strap, “are in my heart for forever.”