#i would never violence a student in a school zone

[impulsivedecisionsat3am]

almost everyone at my school is a fucking zionist you talk to someone and go "oh they seem cool" and then the minute you have a class together and you're given a project where you have to discuss a problem in your community and your teacher is a hijabi who has stated that this is not a project about politics, and it would be great is you could just choose something like "cheerleader" you decide to do your project on the state of israel and use fox news as your source and them every other person next to you is cheering you on what the fuck im gonna commit murder

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

i'm down on my knees, i wanna take you there

summary: you are suiting up for your first mission, the only problem being everyone "forgot" (intentionally withheld) this information from Logan wc: 2.3k a/n: thank you thank you so much for all of your support about my other Logan fic!! I am really enjoying writing for him, and have a few ideas for this Logan as well as some for Worst!Wolverine aka Deadpool 3!Logan as well! More info about empath!reader's powers and her role at the school in this one <3 warnings: slight (incredibly) slight angst, protective!Logan, a bit of a hurt comfort vibe, Ororo, Scott and Jean are meddlers this is the previous fic with these two, not required reading at all, though!

The leather was cool and surprisingly soft against your skin. There had never been reason for you to have to accompany a mission requiring one of the suits before, and you were shocked at how comfortable the uniform was. Typically, when you were asked to help with a mission, you were there for intel. Scope the place out, get a read on the general vibe of the place. Your powers didn��t provide the same level of protection as laser eyes or a strong regenerative healing factor. You would typically arrive with Rogue, in clothes from your own closet and one of the least fancy cars from the garage. You would slip in, get your read, and get out. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to help, you just lacked the training that the other members of the team had. And after all, someone had to stay back to mind things at the school. When Charles had approached you a few months ago about some possible applications for your mutation that would come in handy on missions, you’d been hesitant. It was so outside of your comfort zone to load yourself onto a jet that you’d never even considered the possibility. You were far more comfortable in the library where you held English classes for the students, or helping Charles keep students calm while exploring their powers. Neither scenario included the possibility of a lot of violence. 

Ororo helped you finish zipping yourself into the suit, smoothing her hands along the sleeves before giving you a final nod of approval. Jean and Scott granted you small smiles and you did your best to look as confident as you knew they felt. 

They’d promised it was a simple mission, the kind they usually took students on when Charles felt they were ready to join the team, if that’s what they decided to do after wrapping up their schooling. Charles had heard word of a young mutant who had some kind of telekinetic powers and had recently had an eruption while at school. Everyone agreed that it would be best to find them and convince them to return to the school for some training with as little force as possible, only expedited by the fact that Charles had found them hungry and afraid after running away from home using Cerebro. In the past, the kids had been resistant due to huge amounts of fear, causing them to lash out. You knew they were right that your powers would be useful at times like these, and if you were able to help in any way you were inclined to. 

“The fuck do you think you’re doing to her?” You sighed. It wasn’t that you were all conspiring to keep this a secret from Logan. It wasn’t a discussion that you’d had to agree on group espionage. It just seemed that all of you had a sort of understanding that it might be better to ask forgiveness rather than permission. Not that you needed permission. 

Logan looked furious, and what’s worse, he felt furious. You and Charles had been working to extend your powers over further distances, no longer needing to touch someone directly to know how they feel. Though it certainly doesn’t hurt matters. You’d sensed him upstairs, seemingly pacing around and seething. You’d hoped one of the kids had gotten on his nerves, or something on tv had set him off. You could see that was foolish now. 

“We aren’t doing anything to her,” Scott had his visor on, blocking his eyes from view, but you didn’t need to see to know that he was rolling his eyes. “She’s chosen to accompany us on a mission.” 

“A small mission!” Ororo chimed in, doing her best to give Logan a reassuring smile. 

You checked back in with his aura. Still furious. But it was a nice try, you supposed. Logan’s hackles were raised, his chest heaving. This certainly wouldn’t do. “Can I have a moment with you,” you glanced around the room, briefly meeting the other three mutant’s eyes. “Alone?” 

Logan was still staring daggers at Scott. He wasn’t even the one who suggested you were ready to come along. Jean and Charles had approached you this morning. You laid a hand against his arm, hoping to lead him out of the room, but he flinched away. The pang in your heart was immediate. Did he really think you were so callous that you would ever use your powers without his express permission, or some kind of emergency. You could feel the tears starting to gather in the corner of your eye, your arms wrapping protectively around your midsection. 

Jean slipped one arm through Scott’s and took Ororo’s hand with her other, gently leading them out of the room. “We are going to check a few things with the jet, last minute.” She began to hustle them out of the room. “Call if you need anything!” 

The door shut firmly behind them, and you were left alone with Logan, who looked like he was going to start shaking. “I wasn’t going to-”

“You don’t think I know that?” You can’t help but recoil. You have never been afraid of Logan, even when it may have been in your best judgement to be wary, and you still aren’t. But you can’t deny that it hurts when he snaps at you. Especially when you thought, well. You thought you were growing close. You started to turn away, but before you could, a warm hand caught ahold of your arm. “I’m not… fuck.” He took a heaving breath, shaking his head as if he could clear whatever thoughts were bothering him. “I’m not mad.” 

Despite the serious energy of the conversation, you couldn’t help the incredulous look you shot his way. He tried his best to hide it, but you could see the corner of his mouth turning up at you. “Fine, I’m not mad at you.” 

“You know, you really can’t be mad at anyone, they were just doing-” you were cut off when you fell Logan’s hand traveling down your arm, and pushing your sleeve up gently from where it was covering your hand. He slipped his hand into yours and you felt yourself relax a bit. “Just, take a look, yeah?” 

“Are you sure you want me to?”

“I trust you, bub.” You searched his eyes for any sign of hesitancy, but all you found was trust. Complete and utter trust. You nodded, tightening your own grip on his hand. Doing your best not to let the gentle rub of his thumb against your knuckles distract you, you took a deep breath and opened yourself up to his feelings. 

At first you did feel anger, bright red and hot. You sifted past it, steeling yourself. The first time you had encountered such strong anger, you had felt as if you were going to collapse. But you were stronger now, more prepared to deal with these kinds of feelings. The anger was strong, but also surprisingly shallow. In the depths of his emotions, Logan was worried. Terrified. A deep dark purple that made your own hands shake. His grip on your hand tightened, effectively drawing you back to yourself. There was more, a soft inviting pink that you didn’t dare to touch and shiny bright gold, which told you he was proud. 

You opened your eyes, fighting back the heat you felt creeping onto your cheeks. His expression hadn’t changed, pure trust and tenderness. It should have been disarming, or at the very least surprising. Logan wasn’t so open and honest with people. But the two of you had always had different expectations for the other. 

You couldn’t help it, a smile crept over your features. “You’re proud of me?” 

He rolled his eyes, but his smile only grew. He took your free hand in his, pulling you in closer. “I’m always proud of you.” He hesitated for a brief moment, and you did your best to bite your tongue. You could tell Logan had been making an effort to open up lately, and not just to you, but that didn’t make prolonged silences and easier to bear. “I know it’s not my place to demand anything of you.” 

“You’re my… friend.” You cut him off, wincing at the pause. It didn’t feel like the time to pressure him into labeling whatever feelings may be floating around. “And I always want to hear my friend’s opinions. What’s bothering you so badly?” 

“I could hear your heartbeat from upstairs.” Your eyes grew wide, too shocked to try to school your expression. Logan had told you several times that he had learned to block out his enhanced hearing when he was quite young. Usually to tease you when you got on a long tangent about something you enjoyed. He pretended to zone out and ignore you, but he would always remember small details about your rants, bringing them up nonchalantly at a later date  “I, uh, keep an ear out sometimes. Helps with the worry.” 

He worries about you? Even more surprising, he’s listening to your heartbeat like background music to his day. You promise yourself you will ask him about it when you don’t have a room full of your friends waiting on you. “I thought we’d covered this. I can take care of myself.” 

He sighed, bringing a hand to rest gently where your jaw meets your neck. “Sweetheart, I know you can. But that doesn’t stop me from watching out for you.” 

Your hand moved to rest overtop of his. “The good news is that I will have lots of people watching out for me. You know they won’t let anything happen.” You receive a single huff in return. He’s not convinced. “You know that these are the kinds of missions we send the kids on. I’ll be fine.” 

He considers for a moment, before dropping his hand and nodding. “Give me a second to get changed, and we will head out.” 

You grabbed for his hand, but he was already out the door, and moving too fast for you to stop. “Logan, don’t be ridiculous.” 

“What’s ridiculous is you thinking that I would ever let you go out there alone.” 

“As we already established, I have three very capable friends coming with me. I am only going as a contingency plan.”

“Well then consider me the contingency to the contingency plan.” You huffed, following him next door. 

You darted around in front of Logan, pushing against his chest with all your strength, even if you were fully aware that it was the equivalent of a fly buzzing around him. He stopped all the same, eyebrows pulled together in frustration. “I know you’re worried and I know that this is you trying to help.” Logan had his I’m about to interrupt you look on his face, leaving you to shove him again. Thankfully, he understood your intention. “This is important to me. You can’t be there every time, and I have to stand on my own two feet. I want to contribute to the work we do here more than just teaching kids about how awesome Shakespeare is.” The look was back. “Which is still an important contribution.” You added, which seemed to appease him. “But, I don’t want it to be my only contribution. So I am going to go and make sure that this scared kid who is all alone out there makes it back here safe. And you are going to stay here and make sure that everyone gets dinner and help with their assignments. And then when I get back, we are going to have a talk about all this.” 

“All this?” A smile crept back onto your face, hearing the teasing tone in his voice. 

“Oh my god shut up!” He caught your hands before they made contact with his chest, but he was slow to let go this time. He brought the back of both of your hands to his mouth, dropping a small kiss on each one, before returning your hands to your side. 

“If you come back with so much as a bump to the head, Scott’s dead.” 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, and pointing out that this was exactly what you were talking about earlier did little to sway him. So you gave in, agreeing to give him a full report before slipping your hand into his and tugging him towards the jet. 

“We’ll be back in a bit.” You promised. You could feel the others staring from just inside the jet, but you barely noticed. Logan was checking over your suit meticulously, tugging zippers a few more clicks up and making sure that the collar wasn’t too tight around your neck. He kneeled down, checking to make sure the laces on your boots were double knotted. “Logan,” you laughed, reaching down to tilt his head up to look at you. “I’m too seconds away from sending a lot of exhaustion your way and leaving you passed out in here. You have to let me go, it’s going to be fine.” 

He remained kneeling for a second too long, a look in his eyes you couldn’t entirely place. The sound of the jet powering on broke the both of you out of your trance. He was on his feet in a flash, checking over you one final time. You rose up on your tippy toes, balancing by resting your hands on his shoulders, before gently kissing him on the cheek. You pulled back, nose scrunched up from the tickle of his facial hair. “We’ll be back in a few hours. Hold down the fort for us, yeah?” 

He nodded, pupils slightly blown out and a dreamy look on his face. You giggled, walking backwards for as long as you can before turning around and finding a seat on the jet. You could feel Jean and Scott’s eyes on you as Ororo began maneuvering the jet out of the garage. “Don’t even start.” You muttered, settling firmly into your seat, doing your best to soak up the pride and confidence the others were projecting into the cockpit. 

as always, feedback is so appreciated! if you have any requests for these two/wolverine in general, please leave them here!

next part

[wonusite]

I Hate U, I Love U

❝ After finally managing to escape the lifelong rivalry you once had with Yoon Jeonghan, you’re unexpectedly thrown back into the undesirable feud after receiving a scholarship to the most prestigious private school in the city. Despite your attempts to leave the past in the past, you discover too late that you’re the only one interested in letting the vendetta go. Years later, there’s a switch in dynamic when you’re the one unwilling to let it go. ❞

PAIRING: yoon jeonghan x female reader

WORD COUNT: 20.8k

GENRE: enemies to lovers au, rich kid au, college au, model au, fake dating au, angst, (tiniest bit of) fluff, smut

WARNINGS: they’re in high school at the beginning of this, rich boy!jeonghan, frat boy!jeonghan, former rich girl!reader, model!reader, classism, asshole parents, drinking, scheming, mild violence (1 slap), reader and jeonghan are pretty terrible to each other, repressed feelings, revenge is a recurring theme in this, lots of arguing, star-crossed lovers vibes, heavy on the regret, jealousy, fake relationship (but real feelings oops), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, pussy drunk!hannie, cockdrunk!reader, multiple creampies, squirting, overstimulation

a/n: still can’t believe i sat down and wrote this much. hope you guys like it! based on this request (sorry it took so long rip). minors dni!!

You can still remember the exact way you felt when your family lost everything and was left in poverty. Back then, your reality had become a twilight zone that left you feeling misplaced. Fate was cruel to make that exact feeling resurface now as you’re standing at the gates of your new school.

An emotion that could’ve been written off as typical anxiety from being the new kid is actual nerves caused by the unhealthy obsession your parents have with reclaiming the status your family once had. Inexplicably, they both believed the main way to do this is to be better than the Yoon family.

Embarrassing as it is, this fixation of theirs dates back to before you were born. In particular, it’s your mom’s unrelenting need to be better than the Yoons that got you into this unfavorable situation in the first place. She can’t be fully blamed, though. Everything dates back the feud her first husband (your father) has been part of since he was a kid.

As a child, you didn’t fully understand how deep the hatred ran. You also didn’t realize that being the heir to your family’s fortune meant that their vendetta had become your burden to bear (and somehow still was). Naively, you believed everything was over the moment your family was left with nothing. It wasn’t until you were leaving your house that your mom made it clear she still expected you go head-to-head with the heir of the Yoon family.

Believing that Yoon Jeonghan would still be willing to partake in a petty rivalry with you isn’t realistic, but your mom is beyond seeing reason at this point. Restoring the prestige of your family name came before anything now (even reality). In your mom’s eyes, beating the only son of the Yoon family seems to be the only way to do it.

This new-but-not-new obligation is the reason you can’t stifle the sick feeling that overcomes you as you walk through the front gates of the most prestigious private school in the city.

The campus is larger and more extravagant in person. Every single thing—from the wide pathways to the elegant topography—screams money. Students are scattered in front of the building, clad in the expensive uniform that’s currently draped over your own frame. The sight of designer bags, stylish shoes, and glamorous jewelry is a reminder of what once was and will never be again.

As if that daunting fact isn’t enough to make the dread in your gut paralyze you with anxiety, the cold looks you get are. Maybe you’re paranoid, or maybe people are actually sneering at you because they recognize you. Either way, this feeling of wanting to disappear doesn’t go away.

You stop walking to dig in the pocket of your jacket to pull out your phone. It’s a pathetic attempt to look like you’re not a total outsider who would rather be anywhere else. Unfortunately, your actions don’t provide you with the comfort you’re looking for. You wonder if hiding somewhere inside would stifle the nerves you feel. As fate (and your rotten luck) would have it, you don’t get a chance to make that decision.

In a sudden instant, you feel a body collide with your own. You recoil with a surprised gasp when a hot liquid spills all over your chest and torso. The distinct smell makes you panic. Coffee stains are the worst kind, and you just know your mom is going kill you if the uniform she worked so hard to pay for is ruined. Panic seeps into your chest as you start to wipe at your wet clothes without looking up. It’s futile, but just thinking about the consequences that you’re going to face if the overpriced uniform got ruined makes you want to throw up.

“What the fuck!?” The loud yell draws the attention of all the people within the spacious vicinity. “Watch where you’re going, you fucking idiot!”

You furrow your eyebrows angrily, and before you can lift your head to see who’s yelling, you feel an empty cup hit your feet. The remnants of the coffee splatter on your shoes and the lower part of your shins. Somehow, you feel cold despite the coffee being scorching hot.

The surprised guffaws and gasps seem muffled because of how loud your heartbeat is. A yell of your own is building in your throat, but when you look up, you’re suddenly at a complete loss for words. It all feels like some horrible nightmare because you find yourself looking at a face that you never wanted to see again.

Like a scene out of a cheesy movie, your (former) sworn enemy is standing right in front of you.

For some inexplicable reason, you can’t find your voice. You can only stare at Jeonghan with a dumb expression on your face. The embarrassment and anger you feel clash together and whirl inside you like a tornado, but even the intensity of your emotions isn’t enough to get you to express them in the way you want.

Jeonghan feels very pleased with himself until the unknown girl lifts her head. He blinks once, twice, and a third time. This doesn’t have the effect he desires because the image of you isn’t going away. Many years have passed since he last saw you, but he could never forget your face. Jeonghan might’ve thought he was dropped in the middle of some bizarre dream if it wasn’t for the harsh hammering of his heart. It really is you standing in front of him, looking like you’re two seconds away from murdering him.

“What the hell is your problem?” You seeth, no longer able to push down all the anger you’re feeling. “You’re the one who ran into me, asshole!”

Never in your life had you seen someone turn so red in the span of two seconds. You briefly wonder why Jeonghan feels so embarrassed when it’s you who’s dripping in coffee with what feels like the entire world laughing at your expense.

“Y/N?” His voice is incredulous. “What are you doing here?”

It’s a stupid question to ask considering the fact that you’re literally wearing the school issued uniform and have a school bag slung over your shoulders, but you know what Jeonghan actually means: How is it possible that someone like you is attending this school?

You aren’t about to dignify him with an answer since it seems like the watching crowd is itching for a show. Giving him a reaction is only going to make you look crazy, and you won’t give him or anyone else that satisfaction. It seems like you’re the only one that feels this way, though.

“You can’t hand wash the uniform. It has to be dry cleaned.”

Once again, the snickers and mocking whispers sound deafening. Instead of punching him in the mouth like you want, you somehow convince yourself to keep a level head. “Whatever. Move.” You snap before shoving past the stunned boy.

Once you get away from that embarrassing scene and find a bathroom, you shrug off your jacket to assess the damage. A scowl brings down the edges of your lips when you see the dark stains the coffee left behind. With an aggravated sigh, you glance down at your uniform. The front part is somewhat damp and a bit dirty, but luckily for you (and your mom’s bank account) the stains aren’t too prominent.

You take a deep breath before lifting your head and squaring your shoulders. It doesn’t matter that this already feels like the worst day ever, you can’t lose sight of the goal your mom has in mind. And you definitely can’t let Jeonghan of all people derail those plans. Playing into his petty games isn’t something you can afford to do anymore. Not that you want to, anyway.

When you finally calm down and decide to face the day, you find Jeonghan standing outside the bathroom, waiting for you. His shocked gaze from before is long gone and replaced with a hostile one you're more familiar with.

“I guess the standards of the scholarship program have hit an all time low.” He says as he falls into step beside you. “Do you really think coming here is going to change anything? Someone like you doesn’t belong here.”

You try your hardest to ignore him, but he keeps following you. Briefly, you wonder why it seems like he’s eager to pick up where you two left off. Were his parents thinking the same thing as yours, or was this something he was doing on his own?

“I’m talking to you.”

Finally, you stop and turn to him with a mean glare on your face. “I can see the years have done nothing for that pea-sized brain of yours. No matter how much you want me gone, I’m not going anywhere.”

“If you think you’ll somehow claw your way back up the social ladder, you can get rid of that pathetic idea right now.” Jeonghan all but growls, feeling a type of anxiousness he hasn’t in years. “You don’t belong in this world anymore, and you never will.”

Maybe he was right, but that doesn’t matter. You’re not thinking of running away, especially from him. “Scared I’m gonna take your spot at the table?”

“Yeah, right.” He laughs, but it doesn’t sound as confident as he wants. “Someone like you will never take anything from me.”

You look at him and let out a contemptuous laugh. It had been years, but Jeonghan had remained painfully unchanging. The crazed look in his eyes and tone of voice makes you smirk. “You are scared.”

Jeonghan practically has steam coming out of his ears. He can’t say anything, and he’s not entirely sure why. You’re not at the same level as him anymore, but that doesn’t seem to shake any of that annoying self-confidence you’ve always had. Ironically, it feels like he’s the one on unsteady ground. An anxious feeling seeps into his stature because it’s like he can already hear his dad’s disappointed voice for letting you of all people shake him up.

“Well, you should be.” You say, wanting to get under his skin. “Because I don’t need money to get the things I want.”

Maybe those words triggered a reaction out of Jeonghan that was deeper than you realized, but it doesn’t matter. As soon as you got accepted into the private school, your fate was sealed.

The day doesn’t get much better for you as it goes on. Studying amongst the blue bloods wouldn’t be so bad if you happened to be a regular poor person, but since you and your entire family fell from grace all those years ago, you don’t have the luxury of going unnoticed. Their sly comments and sneers don’t hurt, but they are unbearably annoying.

Expectedly, you’ve made no new friends. Nearly every person looks at you like you’re an unwanted parasite, and you have a strong inkling that it has everything to do with what happened with Jeonghan in the morning. It’s not surprising, but it makes you feel more alone than you expect.

When the school day is finally over and you think you can finally get away from all the turmoil you’re feeling, you walk out the building to see the one person who can make this day even worse. Your dad isn’t alone. He’s accompanied by his wife and her son, Seokmin. You barely have time to digest seeing him after so long before he’s turning his head in your direction and makes eye contact.

In a split second, his smile falters until it’s completely wiped off his face. The oh shit look he has on his face makes an unmistakable revulsion force its way up your throat. Many would feel comforted by the sight of their father approaching them, but all you can feel is the dislike and lack of affection you have for him. Briefly, you wonder why he thinks it’s a good idea to come up to you when it’s clear he didn’t know that it was also your first day of school.

“Y/N.” The way he speaks your name is awkward and unsure. “What are you doing here?”

If one more person asked you that, you swear you were going to rip your hair out. Instead of snarking at him to use his fucking eyes and take a look at what you’re wearing, you respond as calmly as you can. “I applied for a scholarship last year.” You tell him, feeling like you might cry. “Mom said she left you a message.”

The grimace on his face makes you feel stupid and embarrassed, but you can’t walk away like you want. It feels like your feet are rooted to the ground, and there’s also the (not so) tiny fact that your mom would never forgive you if you walked away.

“I... I was going to call, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to hear from me.”

You’re tempted to tell him that you know he hasn’t given you a single thought in the last four years. It’s blatantly obvious that his stepson is vastly more important to him than you are. You know that, and it no longer hurts as much as it used to.

“Mom said she called you last week.” You repeat, trying not to let your voice give away all the emotions brewing inside you. “She wants us to have dinner together tonight.”

His remorseful expression changes, and you know that he’s about to make things difficult for you all over again. “Y/N, today isn’t—”

“Never mind.” You cut him off, not in the mood to hear his excuses. “Your family is waiting for you, and mom’s waiting for me at home.”

Your dad’s wounded expression doesn’t make you feel anything. Especially not when you notice Jeonghan and his idiot friends gawking at you from afar. You don’t give your dad a chance to respond before you turn on your heel and walk away, hoping the angry tears poking the back of your eyes don’t fall before you get out of their line of sight.

The trip home is longer than usual now that you have to take two buses instead of one. It gives you time to think, although, you wish you didn’t have so much time to ponder your rampant thoughts. All you want to do is get home and sleep off the exhausting day you had.

Unfortunately for you, the universe had other plans that went directly against your wishes.

Directly in front of your apartment building, you can see your mom waiting for you. She has a pensive look on her face that can easily been mistaken with vexation, but you can’t be sure when it comes to the same woman who never reacts the way you expect her to. It’s rare to see a bright expression on your mother’s face these days, but she beams as soon as she sees you approaching.

“Y/N!” She hurries over to you with expectant eyes. “Did you see your father?”

You wish she didn’t look so excited as you nod silently, but her eyes seem to shine as she continues with her questioning. “How did it go? Did he agree to come tonight?”

Of course she only cares about that. Not how your day at a new school was or if you were adjusting well. She didn’t care if you liked the school nor was she interested to know if you made any friends. It’s not disappointing anymore, just irritating.

“He didn’t know that I got a scholarship.” Like she told you a month ago. “He didn’t even show up to see me.”

The excited smile slips off your mom’s face instantly. Her gaze turnes dark as a deep frown settles on her features. “What? How could you be so stupid?” Her voice rises into a hysteric yell. “I ask you to do one thing, and you can’t even do that right!”

You clench your jaw as if that will somehow relieve the anger that’s washing over you. Her degrading words are nothing new, but today it’s getting to you more than usual. “It’s not my fault he wants nothing to do with us. I told you—”

“Shut up.” She growls. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. I knew I couldn’t count on you.”

A humorless laugh rips from your throat before you can stop it. “Then you should’ve talked to him yourself instead of making me do it since you’re the one who wants to beg him for money.”

Knowing exactly how to get a reaction out of your mom is always satisfactory, until it isn’t. “I’m only doing this for you! Do you think I want to beg him for money after he abandoned me? All I’ve done since he left is try to give you a better life, and I’m sick of you punishing me for it!”

You could’ve laughed at the absurdity of her words. How could she think that when all these years it felt like you were the one being punished? Instead of telling her some overdue truths, you let out a quiet scoff. “Whatever. He wasn’t going to agree to come no matter what I said to him, and you know it.”

Her silence feels like a victory, but it’s a temporary one. “What I know is that you’re only capable of disappointing me.”

You don’t get a chance to respond before your mom brushes past you with an infuriated scowl. You look back angrily, watching her storm into the building. There’s a familiar anger burning fiercely in your chest as the argument lingers in your mind. She’s not worth your anger, but you can’t stop the overflow of every ugly emotion you’ve been bottling up since the morning.

Things don’t get better after that first day.

Unfortunately for you, going to the city’s most expensive private school doesn’t get any easier with time. The year passes by slowly, and you can’t truly enjoy it because you’re either studying or working. It’s hard to do both, but you aren’t left with much of a choice since your new school brought about unexpected expenses that your mom can’t afford to pay for alone.

As the months pass by, you wonder if all your hard work is really worth it. This dangerous thought lingers in your mind when you get to school on a rainy day after missing your first bus. You’re wet, cold, and tired. After pulling an all-nighter because you had to study for your history test, you’re not in the best mood. And because you apparently had the worst luck ever, Lee Seokmin just has to approach you to remind you that your dad’s birthday is just around the corner.

“Is there a reason you’re telling me this?” You wonder as you half-heartedly shove books into your locker.

“I just...” Seokmin’s voice is meek and nervous. “Are you going to come to his party this time?”

It’s funny that he assumed you were invited this time or any of the other times. “No. I have work that day.”

It’s not exactly a lie. Despite not knowing what day the celebration would be, you knew that you’d either be busy studying or working. Not that this seems to click with the trust fund brat that was abnormally attached to your father.

“You can’t ask for the day off? It would mean a lot to dad if you came.”

His sentence makes your chest and stomach tighten with incredulity and annoyance because it’s so out of touch with reality. You can’t even laugh or feel angry. It’s tempting to tell him that you know your dad couldn’t care less if you went to his birthday party since he hadn’t even bothered to tell you when or where it was happening. Somehow, you manage to stifle your growing ire to respond civilly.

“It’s not like he’s going to be devastated if I don’t go.” You say calmly despite wanting to express the emotions that keep gnawing at your chest.

Seokmin frowns at your impassive attitude. “Of course he’ll care. He’s still your dad—”

“Listen.” You cut him off, slamming your locker shut and finally turning your angry stare at him. “You don’t know shit. Just because he’s played the part of the perfect daddy with you for years, doesn’t mean that’s who he is. So just leave me alone before you piss me off.”

Seokmin shifts uncomfortably, wishing that he hadn’t said anything in the first place. He never meant to antagonize you despite what you’re clearly thinking. He just wants to find some common ground with you. Childishly, he believes it’ll get rid of the guilty feeling he gets every time he sees you.

“Sorry.” Seokmin whispers. “I’ll leave you alone.”

Taking out the resentment you have for your dad on Seokmin doesn’t make you feel better. Somehow you manage to feel even worse after he walks away from you. This dejecting feeling doesn’t go away even as the day goes on. It actually gets worse when you sit down at the library to study during your free period.

It feels like your mind is coming to a crashing halt after being on overdrive for months. You try to pull through even though you’re fucking exhausted. All the effort you’re putting into your studies is so you can win the Merit Scholarship that would pay for your college, and burning out at this point in time wasn’t an option. The prospect of finally piecing your life back together to the way it was before makes it a little easier to ignore the fatigue and stress that lingers in your bones.

But for some reason this day (and the universe) seemed to be working against you.

“You’re fucking lying.” The voice is familiar, but you can’t place it.

“I’m not.” Now there’s a voice you recognize. It belongs to Joshua Hong—a.k.a the evil church boy who identifies as Jeonghan’s bestie. “I was there when he did it.”

“There’s no way Yoon Jeonghan applied for the Merit Scholarship.”

Those words make you freeze. Everything around you becomes a blur as disbelief clouds your senses. Instead of your mind racing with an excess amount of thoughts, there’s only one that keeps bouncing around in your mind: Yoon Jeonghan did this on purpose.

“He turned in the application months ago.” You swear you can hear a smirk in that deviant’s voice.

“Did his family go broke or something?”

“Yeah, right.” A different voice scoffs. “His dad just donated more money to have the arts building expanded. He definitely doesn’t need that scholarship.”

There isn’t many things you can see eye-to-eye on with the snobs at your school, but that last statement is definitely one thing you can agree on. Yoon Jeonghan doesn’t need the scholarship. If you were anyone else, you would think him applying for the scholarship was some mystery with no reasonable explanation, but you know better. This was all because of your refusal to concede to him. Your actions had obviously struck a nerve with his pride, and now he was going to hit you where it hurt.

You can’t even be fully angry. Not when it’s such a well thought out scheme. Still, you feel sick and unable to keep siting still to study. So you quickly gather your stuff and leave the library without noticing the pair of eyes that are watching your every move.

Josh snorts and pulls out his phone, quickly typing a message before sending it out with a satisfied smirk on his face.

It’s done. You should’ve seen her face LMAO.

If you think you can leave school peacefully to try and feel better, you’re proven wrong when you run into Jeonghan as you’re going home.

“You’re leaving already?” He says in a sickly sweet voice as he starts walking beside you. “Maybe you should stick around and study. You won’t win the Merit Scholarship by slacking off.”

“I don’t need to try that hard to beat you.”

There’s a subtle change in Jeonghan’s eyes as he glares at you. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Don’t forget that no matter how smart you are, you’re still a nobody to the people that matter.”

Maybe you should’ve been less naive of the situation. Jeonghan was an asshole, but was also right. You just didn’t know it yet.

Jeonghan begins to bother you more often after he lets you know he wants the scholarship. The remainder of the year he constantly torments and mocks you with the help of his snobby friends. Ignoring them isn’t easy, but the thought that you won’t have to put up with them for much longer helps you power through.

Before you know it, the day the winner of the scholarship will be announced arrives.

The school has an entire ceremony dedicated to academic excellence, and you happen to be one of the students being honored. Friends and family were all encouraged to come since they were giving out multiple awards. Since Seokmin wasn’t getting an academic award, your dad didn’t bother to show up, but he did encourage you to beat Jeonghan via text. You didn’t care so much because you had your mother there, and for the first time in a long time, she seemed genuinely happy. You could see her beaming at you proudly from where she sat.

In spite of all the arguments and resentment, you were thrilled that all your hard work had paid off. Finally, you were going to get your life back. All you had to do was win the scholarship and everything else would naturally fall into place. You’re seated in the second row as the head of the foundation that provided the scholarship steps up to the podium to announce the winner.

Unfortunately, the name of the recipient for the Merit Scholarship is not yours. Maybe the blow wouldn’t have been so devastating if the name that was announced didn’t belong to Jeonghan.

That asshole is sitting in the row in front of you, and like the final killing blow he always delivers when messing with you, he turns around to give you a triumphant smirk. Anger and disappointment clash inside you as if fighting for dominance to see which one is the more prominent feeling. You can feel your hands trembling and your throat tightening. The situation is unjust and cruel, but that doesn’t seem to matter to anyone except you.

This intense feeling worsens the more the situation sinks in. You don’t even want to look at your mom because you know she’s the only person who’s more angry and humiliated than you are. Everyone is cheering and clapping, but you physically can’t join in. Pretending to be happy for someone who had quite literally just ruined your life was something even you couldn’t do.

When the ceremony is over, your mom doesn’t say anything. Her expression is grim and veiled with muted anger. It makes the nerves in your stomach coil into an uncomfortable knot as you follow her out of the auditorium. You can’t say anything as a thick silence engulfs you because you know anything you say won’t be enough to appease her anger.

“This is just fantastic.” Her words come out in the form of an insincere laugh. “I worked my ass off to send you to this damn school, and this is how you repay me?”

It’s tempting to tell her that you’re the one who worked hard to get into the school despite never wanting to step back into this world, but instead you bite your tongue. After all, there’s no point in arguing with her. No amount of rage or disappointment will change the fact that you won’t be able to afford your dream college. With your current financial situation, pursuing higher education was out of the question, and because of your loss, so was the relationship with your mother.

“After all I’ve sacrificed!?” Her angry voice seems to echo throughout the large hallway, and you can feel the lingering people start to stare. “I’ve given up my entire life for you, and you couldn’t win that damn scholarship! You lost it to Yoon Jeonghan of all people!”

“Mom.” Your voice is flat and tired. “That’s enough. People are staring.”

Pointing that out would usually be enough to get her in check, but the deranged look in her eyes tells you that her anger goes beyond any embarrassment that her behavior might cause. “You’re not even sorry, are you?” She scoffs in angry disbelief.

“Neither are you.” The words come out before you can stop them. “You never had a problem with using me as your meal ticket until I didn’t win, right?”

You hear a chorus of shocked gasps when a cold hand collides with your cheek. A stinging sensation is left behind that has a different type of anger coursing through your veins. Your hand trembles as you bring it up to hold your throbbing cheek. Angry tears pool in your eyes as you look into your mother’s remorseless eyes.

“How dare you speak to me that way?” Her voice borders on a yell. “Every single thing I’ve done has been for you and your future. If I knew you were this useless, I wouldn’t have bothered.”

Your mom brushes past you as if you’re a perfect stranger to her. As if you mean nothing to her anymore. Holding the stinging tears in your eyes is painful, but that doesn’t compare to the hurt your mom’s words left behind.

Anger and misery collide together to form a weighing pressure on your chest that makes it difficult to breathe. It feels like your throat is closing in on itself, and you wonder if it’s because of the sob you’re holding in. The heavy tears fall from the top of your lids before you can try to blink them away. It’s humiliating, but you can no longer suppress your emotions like you’d been doing the whole time.

The burning sensation in your cheek has turned into a dull ache at this point, but all you can focus on is the feelings that are eating you from the inside. You see your peers and their families gawking at you. The whispers, snickers, and pitiful glances feel like daggers cutting into you, yet all you can do is stand stolidly and cry silently.

Just when you think you can’t feel any worse, you catch sight of Jeonghan and his family walking out of the auditorium with the head of the foundation. His father is shaking hands with the man, patting him on the back like someone would do to a longtime friend. Which is exactly what the head of the foundation is to him.

Now Jeonghan’s words from before made perfect sense. You’re a fool to realize it this late. Not that it matters anymore. Everything is over now, and all you can do is walk away.

“Your dad really outdid himself.”

Jeonghan offers the girl on his arm a disinterested hum. Honestly, he’d rather to be anywhere else but the gala his dad throws every year. Magnificent as it always is, it’s so boring and draining that it feels more like work than anything. His eyes keep scanning the room for any sign of his friends—or anyone that will save him from his boredom.

“Oh my god!” Mina releases his arm from the death grip she has on it to push past him. “Is that Y/F/N!?”

Jeonghan has to pause for several reasons:

1) Hearing that name after so long makes his chest and stomach flip in the most unpleasant way. 2) It’s unlikely that this airhead heiress is talking about you, but if she is, how is it possible that she knows who you are? 3) There’s no way you would be at his dad’s gala. 4) After disappearing for three years, it doesn’t make sense that you would suddenly appear here of all places.

But when he follows Mina’s line of sight, he sees that it is you, looking more elegant and gorgeous than ever. You’re wearing a designer gown that looks like it was custom made, and you have a tall, six foot nothing piece of arm candy by your side. Even Jeonghan can’t deny that you look like a picture of perfection, and he can’t even begin to figure out why or how you’re at his dad’s gala looking like that.

“And she's with Kim Mingyu!? Oh my god, I have to get a picture—!”

Jeonghan thinks Mina is joking until he sees that she’s already halfway across the room, which is the fastest he’s seen her move all night. Maybe the champagne has gotten to his head because there’s no fucking way any of this is real right now. To his horror, his date actually makes one of his father’s business associates take the picture.

“Close your mouth.” A familiar voice orders. “It’s unbecoming.”

His mom is coldly stringent with the delivery of her words. She doesn’t look surprised, and it makes him feel sick. What the hell is going on?

“Your father invited her.” Her tone leaves no room for questions. “So act like the gentleman I raised you to be, and go say hello.”

He can’t argue because not only is he completely speechless, but also due to the fact that his mom is quick to leave him standing alone. Jeonghan knows his eyes are open wide in that angry way that makes him look like he’s crazy, but he doesn’t care. Why was everyone suddenly acting like they were in some alternate universe?

“Son.”

Jeonghan’s body goes stiff. Immediately, he straightens his expression out as he turns to face his father. He’s met with a familiarly cold expression. It makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand. There’s a thick silence that envelopes them for a brief moment before his dad begins to speak. “Get that stupid look off your face and join me to go greet our guests.”

Again, he’s left with no room to argue because his dad walks away from him. Jeonghan is quick to follow behind him, aware of the consequences that would befall him should he disobey. Much to his chagrin, he sees his date has wandered off after successfully getting a picture with you and your date. This bizarre situation paired with his father’s attitude makes Jeonghan feel like a clueless little boy all over again.

The feeling gets worse when he comes face to face with you for the first time in years.

Your pretty eyes settle on him for a brief moment that can’t even be considered a full second before they look at his father. The man on your arm—Kim Mingyu—doesn’t acknowledge him at all. Jeonghan’s jaw ticks irritably, but he keeps his composure. Something else is clearly going on, and he would never hear the end of it if he ruined his dad’s covert plans.

“Y/N! Mingyu! I’m so glad you two made time to come!” Jeonghan’s father seems like a different person as he goes to shake hands with faux elation in his voice.

“We can’t stay long.” You say with an infuriatingly perfect smile. “But you’ll have to invite us next year because the event is fabulous.”

It irritates Jeonghan that his dad seems genuinely happy at receiving your stamp of approval. He wants to shake him and ask him if he’s lost his damn mind, but he can only plaster on a fake smile of his own.

“Of course.” There’s that fake politeness again. “Surely you two have time for a drink, though?”

Hearing his dad speak the way his employees do to him is sickening, and Jeonghan has to stop himself from gagging.

“Just one.” Mingyu says with a grin so charming that Jeonghan swears he hears some of the surrounding people swoon. “S.Coups is expecting us at his album release party. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course.” He says in an understanding tone that he would’ve never used on Jeonghan. He doesn’t get time to contemplate his dad’s out of character behavior because the older man turns to you with a smile.

“Y/N, I’m sure you remember my son, Jeonghan.” His father puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes enough for it to hurt without making him visibly uncomfortable. “I think you two were still in high school the last time you saw each other.”

Finally, you two look each other in the face again. Your face is blank—a picture of impassive. Then, another beautiful smile graces your face. “That’s right. It’s good to see you again. How have you been?”

“I’ve been busy with school.” He hopes his smile doesn’t look as fake as it feels. “So have you, I presume?”

Jeonghan feels proud of his subtle dig until he feels his father stiffen beside him. Your smile doesn’t falter, but it does turn into an amused one as you share a look with Mingyu who doesn't bother to stifle the laugh that tumbles past his lips.

“Jeonghan.” The glare his father is giving him means he was definitely going to hear about his apparent slip up later. “You should go find Mina.”

Translation: Get lost before you embarrass me further.

“Oh. Sure.” Jeonghan tries not to feel like a scolded little boy who’s being shooed away. “It was nice to meet you, Mingyu. Nice seeing you again, Y/N.”

He’s not sure if you saying goodbye without a hint of amusement makes him feel better or worse.

The rest of the night proceeds smoothly, but Jeonghan has to leave early so he can avoid an awkward car ride back to the house with his parents. Not that it makes any difference because he can tell his dad is still very much angry at him when he gets home.

“I told you to go over the information my secretary gave you.”

His dad has a way of speaking that makes Jeonghan feel like he’s getting yelled at even though he isn’t. It makes him wish he hadn’t gotten drunk with Soonyoung instead of going over that damn binder full of names and faces. Obviously thinking he’d be able to skate by like all the other times was a severe miscalculation.

“You spend so much time on that damn phone that I thought you’d know Y/F/N and Kim Mingyu are at the top of the modeling industry right now. I’ve been trying to convince them to advertise our new cosmetic line for weeks!”

Jeonghan feels like his ears are ringing because there’s no way. He fights the urge to pull out his phone and search for confirmation. Maybe he should’ve done that when he got home instead of opening up the whiskey in his dad’s liquor cabinet.

“You said they didn’t seem offended that Jeonghan didn’t know who they were—” His mom is cut off by his dad’s angry yell.

“That doesn’t change the fact that your brilliant son still refuses to do what I ask of him!”

There’s a tense silence in the room as Jeonghan has to withstand the most scornful glare he’s gotten in his life. His father has a crazy look in his eye that makes Jeonghan feel two feet tall. “Any time they advertise a product, it sells out within days. If they refuse to endorse our products because of you—!”

“Honey,” his mother goes to her husband to placate him. “Jeonghan will apologize to them. Isn’t that right, son?”

She might not be yelling, but her voice is cold as ice, and Jeonghan is left with no room to disagree.

There’s not much that can intimidate Jeonghan, but even he has to admit that being in such foreign territory feels unnervingly daunting. After his dad’s secretary did some digging, he found out you were doing a photo shoot near his college. It’s a closed set, but luckily having the last name Yoon is like having an all access pass to pretty much any place he can think of.

This works until he tries to approach you as you’re getting your makeup touched up. Two burly men stop him from getting close, and a man who he would’ve assumed to be a model if it wasn’t for the way he was dressed stands behind them with a raised eyebrow.

“I made it clear to Lee Chan that there would be no interview.” His voice is rough and mean—something Jeonghan isn’t used to getting from anyone aside from his parents.

Jeonghan doesn’t know if he should be more offended that this guy assumed him to be of the working class or that he was being treated like someone that was beneath you. “No, that’s not—I’m a friend.”

The guy looks mildly surprised before he looks back at you. “You know this guy, Y/N?”

You look up from your phone with the same blank expression from the gala. Because you’ve acted cordial so far, Jeonghan doesn’t expect the next words to come out of your mouth. “No. I don’t.”

Jeonghan thinks about causing a scene, but then he knows that won’t help his predicament. So he lets himself be escorted off the sight, feeling more humiliated than ever. It’s unlike him to give up (not to mention that it’s not an option), which is why he waits by a car that undoubtedly belongs to you. To think that he would be reduced to go this far just to apologize to you is infuriating.

“There’s that creep from before.” Your manager frowns as you and your team are walking to the car.

You smirk, knowing what’s going to come next is going to be the highlight of your day. “It’s alright, Jihoon. He’s probably just a fan.”

Jeonghan is surprised when you gesture for him to come towards you while your team starts to get ready to leave. He clenches his jaw when he sees an arrogant smirk on your face. “Is there a reason you’re acting like a stalker and crashing my shoot?”

Insulting you is something Jeonghan wishes he had the option of doing, but he’s not willing to disappoint his father over some temporary satisfaction. After all, he only needs to give you an insincere apology and everything would be fine. So he takes a deep breath and hopes his words don’t come out sarcastic or mocking.

“I wanted to apologize for the other night.” Okay. That sounded somewhat sincere. “I didn’t know—”

“That your daddy’s been begging me to advertise his product?” You laugh. “I guess you just assumed that I married some rich guy to crawl my way up the social ladder, right?”

Shit. He has to do some damage control, and fast. “No—No. That’s not it at all...”

You wait for him to finish, but it really seems like he has nothing else to say. It’s not surprising, but it is amusing. Jeonghan still expected things to work in his favor just because of who he was, but he was in for a rude awakening. You step toward him with a vengeful smile on your face. “That apology is pathetic as you are.”

“What?” Jeonghan growls, unable to keep up this fake politeness he’s been showing you until now.

“You know, when your dad came to my agency to beg me to advertise those shitty products he came out with, I couldn’t help but think that you really are his son.” Your sneer is meaner than he remembers. “It was fun seeing him kiss my ass and offer me so much money, but you know what? I think trashing your daddy’s new product line is going to be so much more fun.”

You bump his shoulder as you walk past him, leaving him feeling like a bucket of ice cold water was dumped over his head. There was a malicious calmness in your tone that didn’t sit well with him at all.

Jeonghan quickly tries to do some damage control because even if you didn’t agree to advertise the new cosmetic line, Kim Mingyu could surely be swayed. The only problem is that he underestimated how much influence you actually have. Not only does the male model reject the apology, but he also officially declines the offer his father’s company made him.

If that wasn’t enough to piss his father off, you also decline the offer and follow it with a slanderous live that wasn’t technically slanderous under the court of law. Many comments came in about you potentially modeling for the line when you flat out said you didn’t particularly care for their products since they weren’t animal friendly and were overpriced. That caused enough backlash for the campaign ads that were underway to be halted immediately.

Despite trying to tell his parents that you never had any intention of advertising their products, he still found himself kicked out of the grand mansion he grew up in and forced to go stay at the frat house with eight other guys.

“Hold on. You know the Y/F/N!?” His friend yells after Jeonghan is done explaining why he got cut off. “You fucking traitor! How could you hide this from me when you know how much I love her?”

Jeonghan glares at Soonyoung, wanting to throttle him for only focusing on that part of the story. Also, he isn’t to blame for failing to realize the queen of the modeling industry his friend was always referring to was you.

“I still can’t believe you didn't know how famous she is.” Seungkwan says with a scoff. “She’s literally in a bunch of ads and magazines. Plus, she always walks in important fashion shows.”

Wonwoo smirks when Jeonghan pouts like a petulant child. The curiosity is eating away at him, and he feels the need to ask about something that’s not fully making sense to him. “So, you’re saying that Y/F/N did this because you’ve hated each other since you were kids?”

“She’s still not over me winning the scholarship she wanted.” Jeonghan says with a scowl. “Because of her, I have to do well on this interview so I can have some money to hold me over until I get full access to my trust next month.”

“You’re seriously going to apply for an internship at Vogue?” Soonyoung wonders with a raised eyebrow. “Won’t you be paid slave wages?”

Wonwoo and Seungkwan snicker, ignoring the glare Jeonghan throws their way. So the pay wouldn’t be great, but it was Vogue. To have an internship like that on his resume would do wonders for his career. Maybe money wasn’t the main attraction to the internship, but what he would get out of it would be worth so much more.

At least, that’s what he thinks until he’s sent to go help with a fitting for Xu Minghao’s upcoming spring collection. There’s plenty of models around who are needing minor alterations to the clothes they’re wearing, and Jeonghan has the great misfortune of handling the alterations needed for your dress.

Aside from you laughing at the fact that he’s literally on his knees, adjusting the hemline of the dress you have on, there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Until he accidentally pokes you with the needle, that is. The ow you let out isn’t overly loud, but it is enough to grab the attention of Xu Minghao and Jeonghan’s direct supervisor.

“Y/N, darling, what’s wrong?” Minghao asks you, grabbing your hands as he eyes you up and down.

“Nothing. I—I just thought you’d have interns who are capable of not poking the models when they do the alterations.” You say with a slight grimace, knowing exactly what pulls at the designer’s heart strings.

Jeonghan receives two withering glares, and before the day is over he no longer has a job.

Exacting your revenge was one of the greatest feelings you’d ever felt. The outcome of your actions was more than justified, but your manager didn’t seem to think so. Your behavior confused him because he never knew you to be so spiteful to someone who simply made a mistake.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on between you and that intern you got fired?”

You look up from the newly posted pictures from the Armani show that you closed last week. Jihoon’s eyes are still fixed on the road, but he’s always had this annoying skill for seeing right through you without even looking at you. There’s no use in lying to him—not that you were planning to. You just thought you’d have a little more time to enjoy your revenge before telling the only person who knew about your past with that trust fund brat.

“That intern is Yoon Jeonghan.”

Jihoon’s eyes widen when he hears the name of the person you despise the most in the world. He looks at the rear view mirror to see that you’re back to staring at your phone. He quickly focuses back on the road, grip tightening on the steering wheel.

“Oh.” He murmurs, unsure of what to say. “The same guy who—?”

He cuts himself off, but you know what he was about to say. The same guy who ruined your life? You don’t bother to finish the sentence for him.

“The very one.”

It’s silent for a moment before Jihoon speaks again. “Don’t you think you went a little too far?”

You don’t look up, but he notices the tightening of your jaw. The pause you take isn’t long, but it feels that way. “He has a trust fund to fall back on unlike me who had nothing when my mom kicked me out for not winning the scholarship he stole from me.”

Jihoon doesn’t say anything. You’re speaking about the worst moment of your life so casually that anyone would think it doesn’t bother you anymore, but he knows the truth.

“Did you hear back from the agency?” You ask, not wanting to keep talking about the past.

“Yeah. They don’t mind you going to classes for this semester as long as you still do the Marc Jacobs show in Milan and the Versace show in Paris.”

“I also promised Jun I’d do his New York show.” You mention with a victorious smile.

Jihoon hums in acknowledgment. He’s not against the idea of you taking your college classes in person for a semester, but he wonders if it will be okay.

As usual, your manager was right to worry.

Weeks of your college experience go by without any problems. During that time you didn’t notice that Jeonghan had been watching you. He didn’t follow you around or anything like that, but he had observed you long enough to notice that you were oddly attached to your laptop that looked like it was in need of a serious upgrade. And he knows. That’s the ticket to his revenge. So he patiently waits for his chance to grab that ticket.

It takes some convincing (a large sum of money) for Jeonghan to get his English professor to pair you with him for the upcoming project. All he needs to do is get that laptop from you to get the revenge he craves.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more angry. Never mind the fact that there was this perpetual animosity between you and your partner. Jeonghan was also one of the most idiotic people you had ever met. Carrying him on this project was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Don’t expect me to do all the work. I don’t care if have photo shoots or whatever. Make sure you know the material.”

You almost let out an incredulous scoff at his audacity, but instead you just give him an arrogant smile. “I think you forget that you’re the one who always lost to me when it came to academics.”

Jeonghan gives you smug smirk of his own. “And yet I’m the one who won the Merit Scholarship.”

For the first time since he’s seen you again, your arrogant expression falters. He’s not allowed to enjoy the dumb look on your face because you’re quick to smooth it out as if you weren’t slighted by his comment. It’s almost amazing how quickly you manage to cover up your expression.

“Please.” You scoff, trying not to yell at him in the middle of the library. “Your daddy bought that for you just like everything else you have. Too bad intelligence is something that even he can’t afford to get you.”

Jeonghan looks like he did all those years ago on your first day of senior year. His expression is so funny that you can’t help but laugh at him. Your mellifluous laughter catches the attention of some of the people sitting not too far from you who happened to be apparent fans of yours. The pair doesn’t hesitate to walk over to your table and ask for a picture.

You stand up and pose with each of them with that friendly smile you give to everyone except Jeonghan. While your back is turned, he sees your laptop slightly sticking out of your bag. It’s almost too easy to the grab the device and stick it in his own bag. He does it with a precision and smoothness that takes even him by surprise.

As soon as you’re done, you turn back to see Jeonghan gathering the books on the table, bag already slung over his shoulder like he’s ready to leave.

“What the hell? You’re leaving?” You say, annoyed that he was already not pulling his weight this early on.

“I have things to do.” Jeonghan says with a shrug. “I’ll text you later to let you know when I’m free to meet up.”

He leaves you frowning and unaware that he took the single most important item you own.

It’s not until you get back home that you realize your laptop is missing. You panic, practically tearing the house apart trying to find it. Every moment of the day flashes through your mind because you did have a tendency to forget things. It was the reason why Jihoon was responsible for handling most of your personal items when you did shoots.

Jihoon. You think as you search your room for the third time. He’s going to be so disappointed and angry.

The contents in the laptop isn’t what you’re worried about, but the laptop itself. Jihoon bought it for you after he convinced your agency that taking online classes would not affect your work. It meant so much to you because he was the only person who knew how much you had wanted to go to college despite not being able to after you graduated high school.

You’re nearly in tears after realizing that you really had lost it. Even if you went back to the campus early in the morning, it would take you forever to look for it in all the places you’d been to. Just as you’re about to call Jihoon to tell him what happened, you get a text from the last person you want to hear from.

Jeonghan sent a picture of himself holding your most prized possession with an infuriating message attached to it: You’ll get your laptop back if come to my party tonight and take a picture with my friend.

It’s a trap. You know it is. And yet, you still find yourself at the address you were given by the devil incarnate. The frat house is loud and full of people who don’t seem to care or notice who you are. Not that you mind. You only hope Jeonghan doesn’t make things difficult and gives you your laptop right away.

“Y/N!” The deviant yells your name when you finally find him.

Jeonghan is clearly drunk, holding your precious laptop close to him as he drinks some cheap beer. You keep a level head, knowing he just wants a reaction out of you. “Where’s your friend?”

Straight to the point, as always. Jeonghan smirks and whispers something to the boy next to him. His friend disappears into the crowd and returns with someone else minutes later. It’s a cute guy with shining eyes and an adorable smile.

“I love you.” He blurts once he sees you, a blush suffusing his entire face. “You’re so pretty and amazing—!”

He’s drunk, you can tell, but he also seems sincere. It makes you think maybe that rat Jeonghan has actually done this as some twisted way to make his friend’s wish come true. Even if that’s not the case, you could never be mean to someone who supports you—even if that person is friends with someone like Jeonghan.

“Let’s take a picture.” You say with a smile that’s surprisingly easy to conjure.

Naively, you think that Jeonghan will give you the thing you cherish the most after you comply to his wishes. After his friend leaves, he makes no move to give you your laptop. You should’ve expected it, but it still infuriates you.

“I can’t believe you actually came and did what I asked. It makes me wonder what you're hiding in here.” Jeonghan slurs with a smirk that makes you want to throttle him. “I bet you regret acting the way you have.”

You know he’s talking about the things you’ve done to him as soon as you saw him again, and you resist the urge to scream at him that this is nothing compared to what he did to you. Both of you are too focused on each other to see the camera aimed at the rapidly unfolding fight.

“Just give it back, idiot.” You seethe, trying to keep your composure because things are on the verge of getting messy.

“I’m surprised that top model Y/F/N still has this shitty model. Maybe you should think about upgrading.”

Jeonghan laughs again and tauntingly holds out your laptop. As you step forward to grab it, the sleek device slips out of his hand. Everything seems to go in slow motion as you watch the laptop hit the floor and break open. The screen completely detached from the keyboard, and despite being turned off, you can see the cracks that covered half the screen.

You can hear laughter and immature ohs filling up the space. All rational thoughts are ejected from your mind as you grab a cup from a random party-goer and throw it in Jeonghan’s face. The crowd seems to go wild, but that’s not what you’re focused on. Jeonghan doesn’t look shocked or angry. In fact, he looks a lot like the cat who ate the canary.

You realize too late that the guy from before is pointing his phone at you. There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach, but you easily mask your panic and go to pick up the pieces of your broken laptop. The night ends with you running out of the house and a video of you throwing beer in Jeonghan’s face being uploaded for the world to see.

This leaves Jeonghan feeling very pleased with himself.

When he first found out you were going to attend the college he worked so hard to make sure you didn’t get into, it felt like he was living in his worst nightmare. But now with you getting backlash for throwing beer in his face, he’s never felt better. His parents had even reached out to him to get dinner and discuss him moving back in.

“I’m literally never talking to you again.” Soonyoung glares at him with deep resentment. “How could you use me to set up Y/F/N? She probably hates me now.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes as Seungkwan sympathetically pats his friend on the back. “Don’t worry. I’m sure she hates Jeonghan way more.”

Wonwoo snorts while Soonyoung’s pout gets more sulky by the second. While anyone could agree that Jeonghan’s actions were petty and borderline sociopathic, most of the frat was just glad to have him go back to normal. His temperament had been exponentially worse since you decided to finish the semester in person.

The victory, however, is short-lived.

Two days after the video Jeonghan’s frat brother initially posted, you post a video of your own. The caption was nothing short of absolving: Guess he’s mad I didn’t want to endorse the products his daddy tests on animals.

It’s a factor Jeonghan didn’t consider. Someone else had filmed the entire thing from the part where he’s taunting you about your laptop to the part where he so clearly drops it on purpose and you react by throwing beer in his face. It’s almost comedic how fast public opinion changes. The stocks to his father’s company plummet not even a full hour after you post the video, and Jeonghan is getting way more backlash than you did.

When he sees his dad blowing up his phone, he knows this is the final nail in the coffin that will sever the ties with his family.

Meanwhile, you’re not holding up much better. In spite of managing to spin the situation in your favor, your agency is still displeased that you were involved in a scandal at all. Not to mention that Jihoon is clearly disappointed in you. It’s to be expected since he’s the one who helped you convince everyone that taking classes in person wouldn’t be a problem.

“You told me you didn’t want anything to do with Yoon Jeonghan.” Jihoon reminds you two stand in your living room. “Why did you go there in the first place when you’re the one always saying he's some sort of evil mastermind?”

You frown at him, feeling tears of frustration begin to gather in your eyes. “He took the laptop you gave me! How could I let him keep it when you bought it on the salary you had back then?”

Jihoon’s features soften instantly. He lets out a deep sigh and pulls you into his arms. So that’s why. Even he had failed to remember how much that old laptop meant to you. It makes him smile as you quietly sniffle into his shoulder. Jihoon thinks back to when he bought you the laptop and how grateful you had been. He can still remember clearly how you told him that he was the only person to ever believe in your dreams.

“I’m sorry.” He says as he gently pats your back. “I forgot how much that laptop means to you, but I’ll buy you a new one, okay? I should’ve gotten you a new one a long time ago, anyway. Thanks to you and Mingyu, my salary has increased.”

Even after he gets a tearful laugh, Jihoon wonders if going to college is really what’s best for you. He’s the last person who would want to stop you from chasing your real dream, but he can’t shake the feeling that your war with Yoon Jeonghan is far from over.

Jeonghan is an easy going guy who can laugh at his own misfortune, but he really doesn’t see the humor in you single-handedly ruining his life. His friends disagree. Especially Josh, who came down to visit him after years of being abroad.

“I don’t know why you’re acting all surprised. If I was Y/N, I’d try to ruin your life too.” Josh says before he takes a bite of his food. “Actually, I’m surprised that she didn’t try sooner. Especially after what happened at the awards ceremony.”

Soonyoung and Seungkwan’s curiosity is piqued upon hearing that last statement. They lean forward, abandoning all interest in the exquisite food in front of them. In the rendition of Jeonghan’s backstory of the supermodel that hates him, there was no mention of an awards ceremony.

“What happened at the awards ceremony?” Wonwoo asks immediately, not understanding why Jeonghan genuinely looks like he doesn’t know what Josh is talking about.

The atmosphere has quickly changed, and Jeonghan can’t figure out why Josh is making that day seem like it was something more than it was. But there was this feeling in the pit of his stomach that kept growing bigger and bigger. Had something else happened that he didn’t know about?

Josh notices the tense silence that’s suddenly surrounding the table and clears his throat. “I mean, technically, Jeonghan is the one who plotted to ruin Y/N’s life first. He’s the reason her mom went all psycho on her at our end of the year awards ceremony.”

The silence from before gets thicker and more uncomfortable the longer it lasts. Jeonghan looks like he’s just heard some life altering revelation while Josh is looking as clueless as the rest of the boys.

“Wait—” Josh puts down his fork, eyes wide with disbelief. “Why are you acting like you don’t know?”

“I...” Jeonghan swallows thickly. All he remembers from that day is that vacant expression you had on your face when he won the scholarship. The one that still makes him feel like someone is reaching inside his chest and squeezing his heart.

“So what exactly happened?” Seungkwan asks since his friend can’t seem to even think straight.

“We were all mean to her.” Josh admits with a sigh. “I mean, she’s the daughter of a failed businessman, plus she had beef with Hannie since birth. It was too easy to give her shit and fuck with her.”

His friends are uncharacteristically quiet, and it’s so uncomfortable that Jeonghan just wants to die. But not before he hears about what Josh meant about the awards ceremony.

“When Jeonghan found out she applied for the Merit Scholarship, he applied for it too. His dad is friends with the guy who was head of the scholarship foundation, so of course he was going to get it. We all thought it’d be pretty funny to see how her parents would react when she lost.”

Jeonghan’s friends give him very judgmental stares that he honestly deserves.

“But I didn't get to.” Jeonghan recalls quietly. “Y/N and her mom left the auditorium right after, and I had to stay behind to take a bunch of pictures for the school’s newsletter.”

There’s another tense silence where Joshua looks like he has some sort of dilema. He wonders if telling Jeonghan after so long is only going to make things worse.

“You said Y/N’s mom went all psycho on her.” Wonwoo says. “How is that Jeonghan’s fault?”

“Aside Y/N would’ve gotten that scholarship if it wasn’t for Jeonghan, her mom was mad because she lost to him in particular. As soon as they got outside she started yelling at her about how useless she was. She even slapped her in front of everyone and basically disowned her."

“Damn.” Is all Soonyoung is able to say before turning to Jeonghan. “I would hate you too.”

Jeonghan can’t say anything because he’s thinking the exact same thing.

After a very eye-opening lunch, Jeonghan realizes now that you won’t stop your revenge until you’ve completely destroyed him. This sends him into a panic and makes him come up with a plan that will hopefully knock you down a few pegs.

Jeonghan enlists the help of your stepbrother, Seokmin. Unbeknownst to maybe the kindest guy he’s ever met, he helps Jeonghan lure not only you, but also your dad to the silent auction your university is hosting. Getting you two to arrive at the same times is a bit tricky, but Jeonghan manages to pull it off after telling Seokmin to give your father a certain time.

All Jeonghan has to do is linger by the entrance and wait for you to arrive. Which you do, and in a beautiful dress, no less. It’s almost a pity that your night is going to be ruined in approximately five seconds. He’s far enough for you to not notice him yet and close enough to hear your father call out to you from behind.

“Y/N.”

You freeze at the sound of your name being spoken. It had been years, but you would never forget that voice. You turn around slowly, feeling an onslaught of emotions hit you like a truck when you see your father standing in front of you.

There’s a tension between you and your father that Jeonghan recognizes immediately. For some reason, it makes him feel uncomfortable rather than satisfied. He's not sure why that is, but he can't stop watching. It’s unexpected because despite knowing that you were estranged from him, he didn’t expect it to be like this.

“How have you been?” Your father is hesitant in his movements as he steps closer to you.

You hate feeling the way you currently do; like a little girl who’s powerless in front of her father. The feeling is worse because he’s staring at you like he never abandoned you to start another life that didn’t involve you.

“You’ve seen the articles.” You reply coldly. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know.”

The tense atmosphere affects even Jeonghan, and he can’t help but start to feel a little regret because this is not what he had in mind at all. It’s not funny nor does it satiate the vengeful side you always brought out in him. Right now, the situation feels like some sort of erroneous event that should’ve never happened in the first place.

“I was pleased to see what you’ve done to the Yoon family.” He genuinely sounds proud, but you’re not twelve years old anymore so it doesn’t mean anything to you. All it does is make you feel sick. “Honestly, I never thought you’d be able to do it. You surprised me.”

Jeonghan can’t laugh. It should be funny, but it's not. Your father is giving you a back-handed compliment despite being one of the top models in the industry and someone who has the potential to be a global star. Instead of that sweet feeling he’s always gotten from messing with you, all he feels is disgust.

“I’m sure your mom is pleased as well.” He says awkwardly after you don’t say anything. “How is she, by the way?”

The last thing you want to talk about is her, but his ignorance to the feelings you harbor for your mom actually makes you scoff in bewilderment. Emotions you thought you’d gotten rid of long ago start to push at the surface and gather at the center of your chest. You hate that you can’t shove them away and pretend they’re not affecting you the way they are.

Jeonghan flinches when your next words come out in the phonic form of ice. “You know I haven’t talked to her since she kicked me out of her house.”

There’s this long pause where the entire vicinity seems to have gone as cold as your voice. The candor of your words make Jeonghan’s jaw drop. An intense discomfort seeps into his veins and strikes him right in the chest. The story Joshua told him is undoubtedly true, and now he’s starting to realize he was the one who put that domino effect into place.

“I would’ve helped you if you let me—”

Your dad stops talking when you start laughing. It’s not a joyful or amused laugh. It’s cold and resentful. You almost can’t believe the audacity that your father has. His selective memory has always pissed you off, but now he was crossing the line.

“Why are you here?” You demand, unwilling to prolong this unexpected encounter. “This is an alumni event.”

“Seokmin invited me.” His answer shouldn’t have disappointed you, but for some infuriating reason it still did. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

There’s so many things that you want to say. All these years you thought about how it would all play out if you saw him again, but now that it’s actually happening, you can’t say anything that you wanted to.

“The actions you’ve taken against the Yoon family have impressed me so far.” He says like you’ll be happy about his praise. “I thought it would be appropriate to say this to you. That’s all.”

When you see that familiar contempt and unimpressed expression on your father’s face, you can’t help but think that you should’ve never left your house to come out. The figure in your peripheral vision hasn’t moved, and you can only assume he’s waiting for you to react the way he wants.

The silence that looms is tense and uncomfortable. Even Jeonghan can feel it from where he’s watching. It’s strange. The scene in front of him should be satisfying, but it’s not. Not even close.

“What is it that you want to say, then?”

“I know for a fact that Yoon Jeonghan is planning to use a large part of his trust to buy your rival agency. I’ll loan you a substantial amount of money to counter that offer and steal it from him.”

Now, there’s not much that can catch Jeonghan off guard, but what the fuck. His intentions and deals were strictly confidential. How was it possible that your father knew?

“I’m sure you know the reason this chance is so important.”

That anticlimactic moment makes Jeonghan pause. He vaguely recognizes the sick feeling in his stomach as one of realization. The scene in front of him was nothing more then a distorted reflection of his own relationship with his father.

In the time he hadn’t seen you, you’d gotten good at schooling your reactions, but now anyone can see how helpless you feel. That expression reminds him of how he felt when his own father told him to buy the agency and find a model that was capable of taking the crown you’ve had for the last two years. It was never about Jeonghan’s happiness, it was all about his dad’s vanity and ego. He could see now that was still the case for you as well.

“You want me to humiliate him and his family one more time.”

Your father smirks. “Now you’re getting it. You need to prove to everyone—especially that boy and his family—that you’ve always been better.”

All the things you’ve done to Jeonghan come to the forefront of your mind and you suddenly feel more sick and disgusted than ever. This entire time you inadvertently pushed your obsessive father’s agenda because you were still angry about something that happened years ago. There’s this tight knot in your throat that suddenly makes it hard to speak, but you manage anyway.

“When are you going to stop using me for your petty rivalry?” You demand angrily. “I’m not going to be the kind of person who steps on other people for no reason.”

Your father scoffs, furious eyes filled with disappointment. “No reason?”

His laughter that follows is cold and manic. “You think this is just about my dislike for that family? No. This is about who you’re going to turn out to be. Are you going to be weak? Swayed by every sob story that crosses your path? How do you expect to take over my company if you’re so spineless?”

Jeonghan doesn’t feel any satisfaction like he expects. Instead he feels this ugly, jagged feeling deep in his chest. He feels like he's watching some sort of reenactment of him and his own father.

“Don’t forget. I have no use for such a pathetic daughter.”

The silence feels like it’s going to last forever, and in the stillness, Jeonghan feels sorry for you. This entire time he had been so stuck on his own turmoil that he forgot you were also the verge of being crushed by the weight of your family’s expectations. Just like his own father, your dad clearly had no regard for anyone’s feelings—even his own child’s. The test of time hadn’t changed him at all. Unfortunately, the same could be said for his father. It was disheartening to know that you were both nothing more than pawns in their childish game of revenge.

“That’s funny because right now the pathetic one is you.” Jeonghan feels oddly proud at how cutthroat you sound right now. “Don’t act like that company is something you can give away, you know, since it belongs to your wife and not you.”

Your truthful words finally manage to silence him, but you can’t stop there. “Plus, I know you’d rather give everything you have to Seokmin anyway, right? I mean, he is the son you’ve always wanted.”

“Don’t blame him for my mistakes, Y/N.”

“God—When are you going to open your fucking eyes and realize I don’t blame anyone else but you!?” You suddenly yell, unable to keep stifling your feelings.

It’s quiet for a moment before your father speaks again, his voice cold and calculating. “What about the Yoon family? Don’t you blame them? Aren’t they the ones who crushed your dreams?”

Jeonghan holds his breath despite knowing your answer. Of course you did. There was no way you didn’t. If the roles were reversed, he would, too.

You did blame that fucking family for a lot, but never for what your parents did to you. They had nothing to do with the fact that your mom and dad aren’t worthy of being parents. Also, if you truly thought back on it (which you had—countless times), your parents were the one who destroyed your dreams before anyone else could.

“Why would I blame anyone else for what you and your ex wife did to me? You two are the ones who decided I was useless because I couldn’t get you back to where you wanted to be.” You say, voice void of any perceptible emotion.

The silence is thick and heavy with tension. You swallow thickly and belatedly remember that you’re being watched. By this time, you imagine Jeonghan has enough material to humiliate you accordingly, but you’re too fucking exhausted to care. The petty actions you’ve taken so far were justified in your eyes, but even so, you wish you had just let it go. Talking to the man who abandoned you and only came looking for you when he deemed you as useful let you see that.

“Just leave.” Dad. You almost say it like he’s worthy of being that. “Do what you want with this sick obsession you have with the Yoon family, but leave me out of it because I’m done being used for your petty revenge.”

Your father scoffs. “I knew you didn’t have what it takes. I’ll go, but I’ll leave you with this: Yoon Jeonghan’s father knows his son will stop at nothing to destroy you. He was bragging about how his son was going to ruin you with this agency he’s going to buy. Think about that next time you want to be the better person.”

With that, he walks away from you, possibly for the last time.

Despite feeling numb, there’s still angry tears poking the back of your eyes. You let out a shaky sigh, knowing now isn’t the time to cry like you want. “Are you going keep hiding in the shadows like you didn’t set this up?”

Jeonghan’s blood runs cold, and for a moment he contemplates on running. He’s not exactly sure how you found out or even knew that he was watching, but there was no point in pretending. As usual, you knew everything.

You turn around, face still a mess of emotions. Two hours before, you might’ve cared about losing face in front of Jeonghan, but that was no longer the case. No matter what actions he took against you after this, you were done feeding into this game. As soon as the semester was over, you were going back to your normal life and leave behind all these shitty memories.

The expression on your face is eerily similar to the one from when he took your scholarship—a look of defeated resignation. Jeonghan figures that he gets a similar expression on his face when he fights with his dad. That suffocated look is one he knows all too well.

“You’re not going to say anything?”

Jeonghan is reminded of that first day of senior year when he saw you again. In that split second as you're gazing at him with crystal-like tears shining in your pretty eyes, he makes a decision.

“Be my girlfriend.”

His words hang in the air, and you can only look at Jeonghan like he’s lost his mind. You two stare at each other, until you finally manage to form some words through your bewilderment. “What? What are you—?”

“Be my girlfriend.” He says with more conviction. “And help me get revenge on our parents.”

You blink, feeling more confused than ever. Briefly, you wonder if the intensity of your emotions has driven you into some sort of delirium. Either that, or Jeonghan really has lost his mind.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He actually pouts at you. “You said you were done being used by your dad. I feel the same way. I’m tired of only being useful for their sick obsession.”

Maybe it’s the exhaustion you feel from all the emotions you’ve ran dry or maybe it’s because the little snake actually sounds convincing, but either way you agree.

“Fine, but I have conditions.”

Realistically, Jeonghan knew that (fake) dating you wouldn’t be easy, but he never expected to be put on blast like he has been—least of all by you. He’s waiting outside your last class, trying to pretend like he’s not furious.

“Angel face.” Jeonghan’s smile is deceptively calm and pretty. “We need to talk.”

You grimace at him as he loops his arm through yours and begins walking you out of the building towards his sleek car. “Yeah, we do because what the hell is that pet name? It makes you sound like some middle-aged creep.”

Jeonghan laughs stiffly, not wanting to attract the wrong kind of attention. People were already skeptical about your relationship, and he couldn’t let his brilliant plan fail before it got to the good part. He manages to keep his cool and even opens the passenger door for you, gently stroking your head as you get in. It’s almost annoying how good he is at acting affectionate.

“You’re breaking your own rules.” Jeonghan scowls as he starts the car.

You already know he’s talking about your interview that went public an hour ago. His deep frown makes you smirk. “Don’t be mad at me, angel face.”

Jeonghan’s annoyance is oddly soothed by your cute laughter, and he briefly wonders if he’s starting to go insane. His friends would likely tell him that he is. Meanwhile, you’re also wondering if you’re going insane because the surly pout Jeonghan has on his face isn’t as off-putting as it usually is.

“I did what was necessary for the plan.” You explain, trying not to sound like you’re mocking him. “Now everyone likes us together. See?”

Jeonghan finally looks at your phone when he gets to a stoplight. Even just skimming the comments under the article, he can see the tides beginning to shift in his favor. He looks back at the road with a pout. Sure, everything was in the name of revenge, but he wasn’t sure if the humiliation was worth it.

“I guess, but... I don’t think you had to say that I cried while begging for your forgiveness.”

You give him an annoyed look. “Honestly, that’s the least you could do to repent for everything that you’ve done to me. Just consider yourself lucky that I let everything slide due to our mutual need to get revenge.”

Jeonghan scoffs, but says nothing else the entire time he drives to the restaurant he’s been dying to eat at for weeks. The reservation he made two weeks ago was at the beginning of next month, but you had managed to get one within minutes. It was one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city, and he had heard nothing but good things.

Your hands slips into his easily as you two walk into the two MICHELIN star restaurant. Jeonghan tries not to think about how holding your soft hand doesn’t feel as uncomfortable as he thought it would. Instead he focuses on the extravagant interior of the restaurant. He’s seen the pictures online, but they didn’t capture the essence of the place at all.

He notices the looks you’re getting from the staff when you say your last name to the hostess. Unlike the attention you get at school, the other guests and staff are subtle with the looks they’re giving you as you two are guided into the restaurant. It’s a different type of uncomfortable, but Jeonghan notices that you don’t seem to be fazed by it at all.

“Hannie.” You call so affectionately that Jeonghan has to stop himself from gaping at you. “I booked one of the tables on the balcony, I hope you don’t mind.”

“No.” He says, feeling like he’s in a trance as you look at him with those pretty eyes of yours.

As you two near the balcony, he sees the group of people sitting at one of the tables. Your hand tightens around his, but your face remains clean of any emotions. Jeonghan isn’t sure why he softly caresses your thumb in a comforting way. Maybe it’s because he knows that despite wanting revenge, executing it didn’t mean all the unpleasant feelings that came with seeing your father would magically go away.

“How’d you know he’d be here?” Jeonghan wonders after you two are seated.

You hum softly, thinking of a way to say something so deprecating without sounding completely pitiful. Eventually, you decide you don’t need to be so cautious because Jeonghan has already seen all the ugly parts of your life you never wanted anyone to see.

“It’s his birthday, today.” Your gaze flickers past his shoulder for a split second. “He always has this intimate dinner with his family before throwing his actual party. Seokmin mentioned that he wanted to have the dinner here this year.”

Jeonghan doesn’t have time to process how detached you seem because you give him a wicked smirk. “I know you can’t see, but he looks fucking livid right now.”

He’s not sure why he feels relieved when you start laughing like you weren’t feeling suffocated a few seconds ago. It makes him wonder if you’re aware that he can still tell what you’re feeling. Jeonghan had an innate talent for it since childhood, and now it seemed to be more fine-tuned than ever.

“Then, should we take it a step further?”

You give him a questioning gaze. The confusion you feel slowly turns into an emotion that feels somewhat familiar yet foreign all at the same time. It’s something you can’t pinpoint or name, but it’s definitely there as Jeonghan puts a velvet box on the table. Something inside your chest jerks when you realize that he went out and bought you a gift to help you get the reaction you were looking for.

Jeonghan slides the box over to you, a cocky smirk on his face. “Open it, darling. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

You don’t comment on the pet name (especially since you like it way better than the other one) as you do what he says. The box contains a beautiful necklace that looks like it could be from a man in love (or one set on getting revenge).

“It’s beautiful.” You say with a smile as the feeling in your chest jerks again. “Want to put it on me?”

Jeonghan immediately stands from his seat and walks around the table. He’s good at keeping his eyes trained on you, but out of the corner of his eye he can see the three heads clearly staring in the direction of your table. Jeonghan takes the necklace from the box and bends down to clip it into place. Your scent invades his senses, and it makes it way too easy to admire the way the diamonds shine against your skin.

You feel soft lips press against your cheek before gentle words are whispered into your ear. “It suits you just like I knew it would.”

There’s a loud thumping in the air that only you two can seem to hear.

Jeonghan’s hands are holding on to your shoulders as you look up at him. The thumping seems to get louder. “Thank you for my gift, love.”

On impulse more than anything, your (fake) boyfriend swoops down to press a lingering kiss on your lips. He pulls back, feeling an awkward warmth crawling up his neck. You don’t look surprised or disgusted, instead you give him a fond smile that seems more genuine the longer he looks at it. Jeonghan takes his seat again, the infuriated man tables behind you long forgotten by either of you.

There’s a shift in your relationship that night. It’s subtle, but it’s there. Neither you nor Jeonghan really take notice. All you two are aware of is that playing pretend isn’t as awful as you both thought it would be. Expectedly, you scheming deviants have the time of your life playing with this new dynamic there is between you.

Jeonghan has become overly familiarized with your apartment by now. He’s waiting on your nice couch, watching as your team finishes working on your hair and makeup. It’s interesting to see just how much effort goes into looking absolutely flawless for all the cameras. Before this, he didn’t realize certain types of makeup and hair styles photographed better.

“Flawless as always!” Your makeup artist squeals as he takes videos and pictures to document his handiwork.

You don’t look exhausted physically, but Jeonghan still worries that you might already be drained. He knows he would be, especially because your manager keeps reminding you of all the people you need to get a photo with and at what time you need to be home by because you have two different shoots in the morning.

Jeonghan watches silently as your stylist follows you to your room to help you put on the custom dress Wen Junhui has made especially for you to wear to the new Givenchy pop-up shop opening. From what you’ve said, it’s supposed to match the suit he has on—which was also custom made for him by the famous designer.

When you step back into the living room wearing the fitted dress, Jeonghan feels like he’s staring at a living goddess. He can’t take his eyes off you as Jihoon snaps some photos of you. Being starstruck is something he didn’t think was actually possible, but now he understands why Soonyoung still can’t act normal when he brings you around.

“You look amazing.” Jeonghan says breathlessly, still completely entranced by your appearance.

“So do you. I’ll have to give Jun my thanks for making us the hottest couple at this event.”

After a few pictures together for your socials, you two set off to the pop-up shop. The event is expectedly large and grand. So many important people had gathered, but he only cared about the one person who he knew would be there. Jeonghan is quick to spot his father. Ironically, he’s talking with the man who designed the suit he's wearing.

You’re only a little taken aback when Jeonghan wraps his arms around you while you’re talking to a newcomer model you met last year during fashion week. It’s all you can do to keep talking normally as he rests his chin on your shoulder. His hands gently caress the material of your dress. He’s pressing himself closer to you like he wants to mold your bodies together.

When you’re finally left alone, you turn your head to give him a questioning look. You only get a pleased expression in return. The adorably goofy look makes your heart flutter with unwarranted affection.

“I’m clingy.” Jeonghan says bluntly. “And as my girlfriend, you’re obligated to indulge me.”

Your laugh is airy and filled with endearment because honestly, you don’t hate the faux affection. His embrace isn’t uncomfortable. Oddly, it makes the usual anxiousness you get at these events melt away. It’s only an added bonus to what you actually came by to get.

His father looks a lot like yours did. It’s almost funny because it takes less than a second after he sees you two together for him to come over and demand to speak to his son alone. You almost decline for Jeonghan, but you stop yourself when you remember the clause that states neither of you will interfere with family matters other than indirectly making them angry with your relationship.

Your (fake) boyfriend isn’t gone for long, but he’s clearly upset. Instead of letting it visibly show, he indulges in more champagne and mingling. It’s only when he starts slurring his words that you decide it’s time to go.

You're not sure why you don’t take him back to his frat house. It would’ve been easier and less of a hassle, but you found yourself unwilling to part with Jeonghan when he was clearly so distraught and incoherent. You force feed him water before laying him down in your guest bedroom.

“My dad’s such an asshole.” Jeonghan sighs, arm thrown over his eyes as you take off his shoes for him.

You hum in agreement, finally looking back at his face. His cheeks and neck are suffused with color, and you wonder what exactly his father said to make him this upset. It makes you wonder if he was starting to regret doing this entire thing with you.

“Don’t think about him anymore.” You whisper, not sure why that last thought is so upsetting. “Just get some sleep, okay?”

You go to get up, but are stopped by a gentle hand wrapping around your wrist. Jeonghan has moved his arm and is now looking directly at you. His eyes are shining with so many emotions that you recognize, but somehow can’t seem to decipher enough to tell what exactly he’s feeling. The intensity of his stare makes somehow makes you feel exposed.

“Stay with me.” His voice is more vulnerable than you expect. “Please.”

It’s like your legs move on their own as they sit you back at his side. He doesn’t make a move to let go of your wrist and you don’t think to shake off his touch. The silence is full of unspoken words, and you only wait for him to say what’s clearly bothering him.

“I don’t hate you.”

His words are surprising, mostly because they’re something you never thought you’d hear. Jeonghan doesn’t give you a chance to say anything because he keeps talking. “I don’t know why, but I can’t hate you the way I’m supposed to.” His gaze goes to the ceiling as if he’s trying to sort out all the thoughts you can see running through his mind. “I never could.”

“I don’t hate you either.” You tell him honestly.

“But I ruined your life.” Jeonghan frowns as if he’s recalling every horrible thing he ever did to you.

“I ruined yours.” You counter lightheartedly.

Jeonghan laughs a bit and closes his eyes. “Hope you can forgive me for real someday.”

He starts snoring before you can tell him that you already have.

“They look so cute together.”

This phrase was one Jeonghan got used to hearing since you two started dating, and he hates it. Not because it’s unpleasant to hear (it’s not), but because half the time that phrase was being used to describe you and Kim Mingyu. The two girls in his financial analysis class are squealing about your most recent photo shoot which included some shots with your model friend.

“Jealousy is not a good look on you.” Seungkwan laughs when he sees the look on his friend's face.

Jeonghan only rolls his eyes and pretends that Seungkwan’s words don’t affect him the way they do. Because there’s no way he’s jealous. How could he be jealous of someone that was nothing more than a coworker? And there's no reason for him to be jealous even if that wasn’t the case because he doesn’t have any feelings for you.

At least, that’s what he tells himself when you tell him you’re going to have to reschedule your weekly dinner because of that stupidly tall model everyone ships you with. Instead of letting it go like he should’ve done, Jeonghan reminds you that having dinner out in public once a week is part of your deal.

It’s almost cute the way he does it. Jeonghan says it like a whiny child that’s begging for attention. So you promise him to meet him the next day, but he’s not having it. Jeonghan insists that you come to his frat’s party after you’re done. Which you do, and you don’t know what to think on what you stumble on. Jeonghan is absolutely hammered, but he’s also really happy to see you.

“Darling!” He yells, abandoning the game of beer pong he’s currently winning.

You’re surprised when he races toward you and crushes you with a hug. The wolf whistles and cat calls fade into the background as Jeonghan pulls you along with him to sit on the couch, not caring for his partner’s loud protest for him to finish the game. His grip is strong as he tugs you on his lap. The grin he gives you when you easily comply is so pretty it hurts.

“You look so pretty.” Jeonghan is talking to you in pout, and you think you might melt at how cute he looks. “Can’t believe you went out with another guy looking so good.”

You let out a shocked laugh. He sounds like a jealous boyfriend, and for some reason it doesn’t repulse or annoy you. It does confuse you, though.

“I can’t believe you were out here getting drunk with sorority girls while I had a business dinner with Mingyu and Jihoon.”

His laugh is so cute, and the way he hugs you tighter and burrows his face into your neck is even cuter. You notice the lingering eyes, and it reminds you that the affection you’re receiving isn’t real. It also makes you think about how there’s really no need for him to be acting like this. There’s no reporters around or anyone that would run back to your families to let them know how “in love” you two are.

And yet, you don’t feel like pushing him off.

“Let’s get you to bed.” You say, trying to act like your heart isn’t pounding as if it’s on the verge of imploding.

“To your house?” He looks up, hooded eyes looking at you with an emotion that seems familiar, but foreign-looking in his eyes.

“No.” You force yourself to say despite wanting to give into his pleading stare. “Your bed is upstairs, silly.”

Jeonghan leans more into you, letting out disappointed hum that tickles your skin. “Want to stay with you.”

You’re pretty sure you’re going to regret what you do next, but you for some reason you can’t explain to yourself, you’re unwilling to leave him alone when he clearly wants to stay with you. So you decide it’s easier to take him upstairs as he drunkenly points out where his room is. You plop down on his bed, surprised that Jeonghan hasn’t let go of you once the entire time.

“I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” You say as he shoves his face in your neck.

“Stay forever.”

It’s stupid the way your heart interprets the words even though your brain knows he only meant stay for tonight. You’re more worried that you wish he meant it in the way he said it.

In the morning, you wake up to see that you’re alone. The discomfort you feel is eased when the door opens minutes later to reveal Jeonghan with several shopping bags in hand. You spot the familiar Valentino and Christian Louboutin bags almost instantly.

“You’re awake.” The smile he gives you is sleepy and tired, but so damn attractive.

“You went shopping.” You say, trying to understand how he got up before you. “Don’t you have a hangover?”

“I do.” He admits, shyly rubbing the back of his neck. “But you need fresh clothes after you shower, so I went out to buy you some. I also got you some other stuff from the drug store.”

You don’t know how to process the fact that your fake boyfriend went out to buy you all the things you need. Especially since it was clear he made more than one stop. Jeonghan doesn’t seem to notice just how shocked you are as he places the bags on his bed and insists you look through them. You do as he says, feeling an intruding warmth fill your chest.

“Why’d you get me shoes?” You wonder when you open the Louboutin box.

“The shoes you came with don’t go with the dress I got you.”

His words make your heart thump with adoration that can’t be stifled. Heat spreads across your face as you hastily thank him before hurrying into the bathroom with the toiletries he bought for you so he can’t see just how much his actions affected you. It’s hard to ignore all the emotions gathering in your chest. Jeonghan is an exceptionally good actor, but you keep wondering why he's going this far. What’s worse is that you can’t say you hate it. Actually, you probably like it a little too much.

When you’re done showering, you dry your hair and try on the dress Jeonghan bought you. It’s snug against your frame, and you have to marvel at the fact that he actually did a great job choosing your size. You tentatively step out of the bathroom to see Jeonghan sitting on the bed occupied with his phone. It feels like the air is knocked out of him when he looks up to see you dressed in something he picked out and bought for you.

“Want to get breakfast?”

You try to ignore the fact that you’re playing a dangerous game by blurring the lines you’ve drawn when you say yes.

“Should we breakup before I go to Milan or after I come back from Paris?”

Your question is so casual that Jeonghan almost thinks he didn’t hear you right. He looks up from his phone to see you pulling out a suitcase from your closet. It’s almost painful that you don’t seem to realize how much your words have affected him.

“Breakup?” He repeats, throat going dry and heart sinking.

The way you nod normally like he doesn’t feel sick to his stomach has him reeling. “Yeah. Our parents are mad enough now, and the semester is almost over so I’ll start taking online classes again.”

Your reasoning makes sense (maybe a little too much), but Jeonghan really can’t accept what you’re saying. All that registers is the fact that you’re leaving and planning on having nothing to do with him anymore.

“You’re not coming back?”

You wonder if he actually sounds disappointed or if it’s just you wishing that he does. Either way, you can’t let him know that you feel like your heart is being ripped out because you’re asking to plan your breakup. “My agency only agreed to let me take classes in person for a semester. After the scandal I had with you, they don’t want me coming back again.”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

You try to pretend like his words don’t evoke an emotion out of you that you should definitely not feel for him.

“And I don’t want to breakup.”

The silence is heavy. It isn’t easy to not interpret his words as a plea to stay because he has feelings for you. Especially since you’re sure that’s not what he means. “If it’s about your dad we can—”

“This has nothing to do with my dad.” Jeonghan says, frustrated that you’re not understanding how he's feeling. “This is about you and me—about us.”

It’s strange to think that there is an us when it comes to you and Jeonghan now, but he can’t let you fly across the world without letting you know how he feels.

“You have to know that this isn’t fake to me.” He says, more nervous and determined than ever.

You can’t say anything. Not because you think it’s some joke or that he’s not being sincere, but because you can’t believe these feelings that had been flourishing since you two decided to let go of the past are being reciprocated.

“I know you probably still hate me, and I don’t blame you if you do. Back then, I ruined your life because I was insecure and wanted to make my dad proud. And now because of me, you won’t be able to come back to school even though going to this university has been your dream since we were kids.” Jeonghan soldiers on even though every single emotion is trying to peak through. “I’m an idiot to realize it so late, and I’m a bigger one to be apologizing to you only now.”

Jeonghan walks toward you until he’s directly in front of you. Just as you hope he seals his apology with a kiss, he falls to his knees, bunny-like eyes looking at you imploringly.

“I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m going to ask for your forgiveness anyway. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done to you since you came back into my life.” He’s close to tears as he grabs your hands. “I’ll do anything for your forgiveness. Just tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it.”

Your heart is thumping so erratically that it feels like it’s on the verge of exploding. Yoon Jeonghan is on his knees in front of you, eyes wet and pleading for you to forgive him. The onslaught of emotions you feel are scrambling your brain to the point where you can hardly think. “Hannie...”

The nickname makes him hopeful that maybe he can earn your forgiveness. He grips your hands a little tighter and gently uses his thumbs to caress the back of your hands.

“I don’t hate you, and I already forgave a long time ago.” You confess with a smile, heart still pounding.

Jeonghan stands and crushes you with a hug, body sagging in relief to know that you don’t hate him. He closes his eyes as he buries his face into your neck. The anxiety he was feeling fades away as he basks in your embrace.

“I’m sorry too.” Your apology is slightly muffled. “I was wrong to make your life a living hell, and I hope you can also forgive me.”

Jeonghan hugs you tighter. “I already have. It’s not like I didn't deserve it.”

You two laugh a bit until you pull back to look at your (fake?) boyfriend. “You really don’t want to be away from me?”

Jeonghan pouts and nods. He briefly thinks he might have to hang a sign around his neck for you to realize he never wants you to leave his side.

“Why?”

You need to hear him say it. This way, you’ll know for sure that you’re not just lucid dreaming.

“Because I’m in love with you.”

Jeonghan never thought he could miss someone as much as he missed you. He’s surprised that it can feel like you’ve been away from him for years when in reality it’s only been a week. Not that it matters because he finally has you in his arms again. And he plans on showering you with love before you have to leave for Paris.

“I missed you so much.”

You feel breathless when Jeonghan’s lips mold against yours, not giving you a chance to say that you missed him too. He’s nestled between your legs as his lips devour yours, not caring that he’s been in the same position for the last fifteen minutes. Jeonghan can’t get enough of you, and he’s only gotten a small taste.

The whine you let out when Jeonghan’s tongue starts to play with yours is so hot that he can feel his cock twitch in his pants. One of his hands trails down your body to grab a handful of your ass before smoothing over your thigh to hook your leg over his hip. You moan into his mouth as your core grinds into his hardening dick.

Finally, you pull away from him, pupils blown wide with lust. “Missed you so much, Hannie.”

Your boyfriend gently grinds down in order to hear another one of your sensual moans. His dark eyes are staring at you with so much desire that your cunt starts to pulse at the thought of having him carnally.

“Let me show you how much I missed you.”

Jeonghan is patient as he undresses you. It’s a contrast to the way he quickly strips his own clothes. You know it’s because your dress is a custom gift from Wen Junhui, and it makes your heart warm and cunt drip with more slick at the thought that he actually remembered.

When he settles his head between your legs and spreads you open, you feel a bashful heat course through your body. Jeonghan is staring straight at your core with the most heated gaze you’ve ever received from a man. “Fuck. I knew you were pretty everywhere.”

Jeonghan’s gives your pussy a harsh slap, earning a surprised moan from you. He soothes the sting by gently rubbing his fingers against your clit, loving how wet your pussy keeps getting. Any coherent response you’re thinking of is quick to disappear when Jeonghan dives into your awaiting cunt. His tongue laps and slobbers all over your drooling lips, messily making out with the heaven between your legs.

The way Jeonghan is groaning into your pussy in absolute pleasure makes you grind you cunt into his mouth, moaning and crying out in just as much pleasure. His fingers flex into the flesh of your soft thighs as they lock around his head. Jeonghan greedily licks every inch of your sopping cunt, chin and cheeks increasingly becoming covered in your sweet juices as they drip down to the sheets below him.

“Fuck, Hannie!” You cry out with a jolt, hips rolling incessantly into his mouth. “Keep doing that! Feels so good.”

“Yeah? Like it how I fuck you with my tongue, darling?” He rasps burying his face deeper into your hot cunt.

You’re slowly slipping into a euphoric state that won’t allow you to think straight, and you’re only able to stay coherent because he pulls away momentarily to slide his fingers between your folds. He lewdly spreads you open before diving back in, slurping up every last bit of your juices. The taste of you had his cock twitching and throbbing between his thighs.

Jeonghan groans when your fingers slide into his hair as your pussy keeps getting tighter around his tongue. The room in the air feels hot as he continues to lap at your cunt, and you can only pant and moan as you feel a familiar feeling pooling in your stomach.

The entire lower half of his face feels sticky, but Jeonghan needs more. Wants it to be messier. His hands slip under to grab your ass and push you deeper on his tongue. Lewd squelches mix in with your cries of pleasure as he fucks you with his tongue. You feel your eyes roll back and your back arch when he gently starts to circle your puffy clit. Jeonghan then wraps his lips around it before sucking it into his mouth.

“Fuck.” You moan out. “Jeonghan! Gonna come!”

His tongue rolls the sensitive bud as you jerk in his hold. Jeonghan’s groans are only turning you on even more because you can tell he’s enjoying this as much as you are. The arousal he feels has his cock aching for any sort of friction, but he’s just so lost in you that he can’t really care that his erection is starting to hurt. Honestly, he feels like he could eat you out forever.

“So fucking good.” You babble as your clit knocks against his nose with every buck of your hips.

You jolt when you feel Jeonghan suck your clit between his teeth, nibbling on the sensitive bud until your orgasm finally washes over you. Instead of pulling away, he pulls you closer and laps up your cream, slurping up everything you have to offer him. Precum gathers at the tip of his aching cock that he can feel it staining his underwear, but he’s too focused on you creaming on his tongue to care.

Your body goes slack after you ride out your orgasm. Jeonghan pulls a way from your cunt with a satisfied smirk. He wastes no time in getting rid of his underwear, leaking cock springing up with a wet slap against his lower abdomen after he takes it off. You lick your you lips and pull him closer to you as you’re eager to feel his skin on yours again.

“Like what you see, darling?” Jeonghan coos with a cocky smirk.

He’s stroking his thick cock slowly as he watches your eyes fix on the girth between his legs, raking them over him slowly with unmistakeable hunger. His cock is as pretty as he is; long and thick with the bulbous head oozing plenty of precum. The veins running alongside it have your cunt aching in need to feel them drag along your walls. Jeonghan undoubtedly has one of the biggest cocks you’ve ever seen, and you whine out in need as you cling to his neck. Your hips buck up on their own, desperate to feel even the slightest bit of friction.

“Don’t tease me.” You pout, eyes blinking up at him pleadingly.

That face you’re making is dangerous, Jeonghan thinks. It’s capable of getting you whatever you want. He has to close his eyes and exhale deeply when you snake a hand between your bodies and grip his cock, squeezing gently to goad him into fucking you. It’s hot and heavy in your hand and wet with his precum. Your hand drags over him in slow strokes.

“I want you so bad.” You whine into his ear. “Please.”

“You—“ He breathes with a stutter, hips slowly rolling into your hand. “Y-You have to answer me first, baby.”

You roll your thumb over his weeping tip, collecting the wet bead of his precum before smearing it along his cock. His whimpers and moans are so pretty, and you just revel in the sounds that you’re emmiting from him.

“Tell me. Tell me how much you want my cock.”

“Want your cock, Hannie. It’s so pretty—need it inside me.” You mewl as you squeeze the base of his dick.

Jeonghan lets out a chuckle that’s breathy against your ear. It sounds smug despite the blush spreading on his face. “Think it’s pretty, huh? The prettiest cock you’ve ever seen?”

“Mhm.” You moan as he slides his tip up and down your entrance, collecting your juices along his cock before he slaps your cunt with his dick.

Finally, he relents and slowly pushes past your wet folds. You both let out loud moans at the feeling of each other. Jeonghan feels like he’s in heaven with how your hot, tight cunt is gripping his cock while you feel a burning pleasure licking up your entire body as his big cock splits you open.

“Fuh-Fuck, darling. Tight little pussy’s gonna drive me crazy.” He groans before leaning forward to press a sloppy kiss to your lips, tongue exploring your mouth as he drinks in your moans.

You whimper and whine into his mouth, eyelids fluttering in pleasure as he slowly starts to fuck his cock into you. Jeonghan pulls away with a deep groan. His eyes roll to the back of his head as your tight cunt squeezes his dick. Your arms a wrap around his neck as your legs do the same around his waist. Jeonghan’s cock throbs, nearly coming at the sight of your mouth hanging open in pleasure.

“Such a pretty little cunt. And it’s all for me.”

“Only for you, babe.” You say through a moan, bucking your hips up to meet his slow thrusts.

Your actions make his cock hit deep inside you, the leaking tip brushing against your sweet spot. A wanton moan escapes you at the feeling. You arch your back in absolute pleasure, not believing that he’s able to reach that deep inside you. Jeonghan smirks at your reaction, loving how you’re already so lost on his cock. His hips keep rolling against yours, forcing his thick cock in and out of your tight pussy.

Jeonghan is splitting you open as he fucks his cock into you. Your head is swimming from the pleasure as he picks up his pace. His moans only add to your pleasure. You can feel his pelvis brushing your pulsing clit with every harsh snap of his hips. The carnal sound of his cock slipping in and out of your cunt paired with the slapping of skin is making your velvety walls clamp down on him tighter.

“Fuck, Hannie. Harder! Fuck me harder!” You beg, bucking your hips to match his thrusts.

You’re both panting harshly as you feel the delicious pleasure build steadily. It spreads from your legs and along your spine until it consumes you completely. Jeonghan is quickly becoming obsessed with the sight of you under him, pretty tits bouncing every time he sharply snaps his hips. He spreads your legs to see the erotic sight of your juices frothing at the base of his dick and sliding down his heavy sack.

“Cockhungry angel wants more?” Jeonghan coos, driving his hips deeper so his cock is slamming against your sweet spot, sending your vision white. “You can have more, love. Because this is your cock. All yours.”

His words make you become impossibly tight. Your velvety walls make him choke out a loud moan. It’s almost hard for him to move with how tight your pussy keeps getting. The sight of your cream coating his cock as it disappears into your hot cunt only makes his snap his hips harder, eager to feel you come undone on his dick.

“Mine.” Your babble sounds so possessive yet fucked out that Jeonghan can’t help but moan along with you.

“Yours.” He confirms through his deep groans. “Cock fits inside your little pussy like it was made for you.”

“Hannie!” You cry out, feeling drunk on how his veiny cock drags against your walls. “If you k-keep saying things like that—!”

He smirks, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek—an action too tender for how he’s ravishing you. “What, baby? You’re gonna gush all over me? Cover this cock with your sweet cream?”

His thumb trails down to your aching clit and starts to rub fast circles along the sensitive bud. Jeonghan does this until you break. Your thighs tremble as your gummy walls flutter around his cock. If only you could see the literal heart eyes your boyfriend is staring at you with as your pretty face contorts in pleasure as you fall apart on his cock. He’s never seen a more perfect sight, and he’s sure to commit it to memory as your orgasm spurts all over his cock, marking him with your essence in the most obscene way.

The slam of his cock as he fucks you through your orgasm bordering on too much as you whimper in his arms. Those cute little mewls turn into cries when he keeps going, so drunk in you that he can’t stop. The sound of your moans and the way you suck him in as you cream around his cock makes Jeonghan’s head fall into your neck. His thrusts are turning sloppy as he whimpers gently against your skin.

“I love you.” He pants into your skin, choking on moans as he pumps his cum into your cunt. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Hannie.” You mewl, loving the feeling of his cum filling you up.

You feel the mixture of his release and your slick trailing down the sides of your thighs. It’s so messy that you can’t help but crave more. Jeonghan’s breathing is heavy as he places gentle kisses on your neck. Neither of you can ignore the pulsing of his fat cock still inside you. He fucks his cum into you a bit more before slowly pulling out, enjoying the sight of his thick cum leaking down to your asshole. Your pretty pussy is pulsing as more thick cum squeezes out.

Jeonghan’s massaging a palm on the inside of your sticky thigh to keep your legs spread for his eyes when you say the words that make his cock twitch and ache all over again.

“Keep stuffing me full of cum, baby.”

It’s so easy to slide his cock back into your creamy pussy. You clench tightly as he draws back, then forward again. His thick dick stretches you open so deliciously that you can’t hold back your cries of pleasure. He’s balls deep inside your hot cunt, his pelvis brushing against your aching nub. Your vision goes blurry as he hits so deep. Jeonghan hooks one of your knees over his shoulder so he can slide in deeper.

“I’m going to fill you up. Gonna come in this pretty pussy and fuck you until you can’t take anymore.” Jeonghan groans as you mewl and whimper underneath him.

He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, tugging the nub with his teeth, groping your other tit. You’re already so damn sensitive and arch into his touch. “Ah, Hannie!”

“Mmh.” He groans, releasing the hardened bud with a lewd pop as you clench around him.

Jeonghan starts fucking you slowly, letting you feel every vein along your pulsating walls. From tip to base, he feeds your tight hole like it’s starving. You whimper at the feeling, moans slipping out of you when he picks up speed. The tip of his dick rams into your cervix and makes you see stars. You’re so hot and messy already, your slick and his cum creating a ring around the fat base of his cock.

Dark eyes flicker between your sloppy hole and your fucked out face. Jeonghan can’t decide which is more obscene, but he loves both sights so much. His big cock spreads you wide, a euphoric burn blooming in your little pussy as your juices spill out. The cry you let out makes him kiss you. It’s soft in contrast to his length spearing you open. His tongue slips into your mouth, massaging yours as he swallows your moans.

Jeonghan traces tracing over your stretched hole to your fluttering clit, rubbing in hard circles as you keep crying out for him. He keeps pounding into you, your body moving up the bed with the sheer force.

“So fucking good!” Your mouth falls open in a moan as he rams into your sweet spot, that familiar electricity streaming through your body.

You can feel his pelvic bone pressing against your clit as his dick spears deeper. You’re squirming against your boyfriend, full and cockdrunk as he keeps rubbing his fingers on your clit. The toe-curling orgasm strikes so abruptly that you don’t expect it. Your juices squirt out all over Jeonghan’s length and his pelvis.

His thickness continues to invade your convulsing walls, almost brutally but you take it, gasping as your mind goes foggy.

“Fuck, darling. Keep soaking my cock like that.”

Your tits bounce as he fucks you harder, ramming into your sweet spot. You can’t process anything over the squelching noises and the sounds of your moans. Jeonghan groans, cursing lowly as you squeeze around him, begging for his cum. He grinds sinfully into your spasming cunt until he releases his hot cum into your pussy, filling you to the brim.

In utter pleasure, Jeonghan rocks into you with abandon, spurred on by your cries and your nails digging into his shoulders as his pelvis rubs your humming clit. His warmth spreads within you, leaking out from around his throbbing girth as his hips slow to a stop. You soften to quiet whimpers when he lets go of your leg, nuzzling into his neck in a daze.

Neither of you move, too lost in the feeling of each other’s arms to care about anything else.

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @ohwonwoo

[s-aint-elmo]

*twirling my hair* do you have some good yuri manga recs?

(lying on my stomach and kicking my feet) i'm SO glad you asked!

to preface this i'll be excluding better-known yuri or yuri that's recently gotten its flowers (whether thru virality or adaptations) (e.g. in love with the villainess, love bullet, bloom into you, etc. etc.) and will instead be recc'ing works i don't often encounter in the wild. some will be more well-known than others, but all of these i've enjoyed and would encourage others to check out! under the cut because. this got. so long. i heart yuri <3

multi-chapter

the princess of sylph (ongoing; self-publishing): plot-heavy fantasy yuri between a bereaved princess with the aura of a thousand sad hamsters and a persistent nun whose silliness conceals a deep well of trauma. gushed about it plenty here. i recommend starting with the serialized version, the proceeding to the twitter version + extras. cw: blood, violence, dismemberment (nothing too graphic, more standard monster-fighting fare).

i love amy (completed): school loner strikes an unlikely friendship with the girl known (and feared) for her violent tendencies and single-minded obsession with the school prince. cute but striking and skilled art with a surprisingly nuanced handling of trauma and neurodivergence. cw: attempted child murder, animal death (non-graphic). there are also depictions of standard yandere fare (kidnapping, torture basements) but they're always presented comedically.

i see you, aizawa-san! (ongoing): girl who steadfastly pretends not to see ghosts meets one she just can't seem to ignore: a deceased classmate and former j-pop idol, who has taken to haunting their classroom. ft. art that harkens back to classic shoujo and a supernatural mystery centred on the relationship between the two leads--that one of them can't seem to remember. cw: blood, body horror.

school zone girls (on hiatus): slice of life yuri comedy ft. a massive interconnected web of girls spanning at least three schools. it juggles gut-busting comedy with genuine heartfelt moments of character growth and connection and expresses it all through a solid, dynamic art style. the sprawling cast also makes for incredible outsider pov moments that lets us really appreciate how far some characters have gotten. this genuinely motivated me to revamp how i approached ensemble casts for my ocs.

brides of iberis (completed): wedding planner unenthusiastic about her engagement falls in love with a bride she's taken as a client. bittersweet but deeply loving; and so compassionate to each and every character, even the men the female leads have relationships with. cw: infidelity.

destroy it all and love me in hell! (ongoing): model student finds her miserable, tightly controlled life unraveling after being blackmailed by the class truant into indulging her ugliest impulses. toxic yuri extravaganza eleganza between two girls desperate for escape and the catharsis of fucking! shit! up!!! also hits that sweet sweet "love triangle as a conflict of ideals" beat. cw: blackmail, coercion, bullying, violence, emotional abuse, physical abuse, verbal abuse, adult/minor relationship.

yuri is forbidden for the yuri otaku (completed): passionate himejoshi enrolls in an all-girls private school to observe class s yuri in action, but never to engage in it herself--at least, until a misunderstanding wins her the resident gyaru's heart. a surprisingly poignant exploration of being queer in a repressive society and experiencing your queerness through the safety of unobtainable fantasy.

the superstar idol crushes on me today too (ongoing): failed idol-slash-middling radio personality finds an unwanted superfan in the country's biggest superstar. explores the merit of pursuing your artistic passions in the face of repeated failure, and what makes an emotional anchor in the fraught seas of showbiz. they are also just so so funny. what if i emphatically declare you my rival in show business but you've been in love with me since you saw me in a cooking show as a child actor and you take any excuse to spend time with me and have my attention with blinding enthusiasm

normality and monsters (ongoing): outcast weirdo witnesses the class idol devour their homeroom teacher in one bite and begs to be trained in the art of appearing normal. the art is snappy and charismatic, the monster design is properly grotesque, and the friendship of convenience between the two leads teeters between overcoming the monster's nature and just being a prelude to the monster acquiring a new meatsuit. cw: blood, gore, death, body horror.

a monster wants to eat me (ongoing): suicidal girl meets carnivore mermaid who promises to eat her if she develops a desire to live. it's been a while since i read this one, but the monster designs are once again sick as fuck and the drama of being cared for by a creature that finds you tantalizing is sooo juicy. cw: suicidal ideation, blood, gore, violence, body horror.

liar satsuki can see death (completed): high schooler who can see corpses before the death occurs strives to save as many lives as possible despite being branded a liar by the entire student body. this and ryouko's other manga, a walk to death, are pretty banging declarations on the value of living ironically (or maybe aptly) wrapped in so much death. blanket cw for blood, gore and death bc i tell you every mini-arc somebody dies in a fun new way and we'd be here all day if we listed them out.

anthology:

i'm the villainess but i'm being captured by the heroine?!: an anthology featuring heroines of otome games swerving hard and sweeping the villainess off her feet. i am such a sucker for villainess yuri. mean women forever. my favourite chapters are vol. 1 ch.1 and vol. 2 chs. 1 and 4.

honourable mentions:

my idol sits the next desk over! (completed): loner idol otaku ends up deskmates with her oshi and between jealous sabotage from a rival stan and the herculean task of acting normal around your fave, lands herself in the first and closest friend group of her life. one girl does explicitly have romantic feelings for another girl, but i bumped it down here because it isn't explored to the extent it could have been. it felt like it was setting up a slow burn only to end abruptly. do not recommend if you want a love story, do recommend if you want lonely people forging deep and enduring bonds of friendship.

the one within the villainess (ongoing): the villainess of an otome game reawakens for her condemnation and sets off on a path of vengeance for the sake of the beloved transmigrator who's occupied her body for years. it's ostensibly het, but to hear the way that the villainess speaks of her transmigrator, the first person to love her wholeheartedly and wish for her happiness and so inadvertently prevent her from becoming the hollow bitter woman she originally grew into...... like. that is yuri. like what if i knew your life in its entirety and loved you for it and i found myself in the position to give you the happiness i always wished for you to have. what if we wrote fix-it fic for each other on the fabric of the universe. what if we never even had a conversation but we knew each other the best and loved each other most. and we were both girls. do you understand why i'm insane about them. cw: blood, gore, violence.

[naomikozura]

Playing With Fire: Chapter 10

Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Fem!Reader (Criminal)

Trope: Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Romance

Warnings: strong language, violence, mentions of gun use, abuse, mentions of bombs, death, mental and physical torture, bodily harm, blood, angst no comfort, past trauma (lmk if I missed any!)

WC: 11.7K

Summary: Six years ago...

Series Masterlist

Chapter 9 || Chapter 11

Six Years Earlier || Jason’s POV

Gotham Academy was known for its influx of high society students all of which were practically bred into the life of glitz and glamor. If there was one thing he hated more than criminal scum, it was that of the students at Gotham Academy. The uptightness, the rude, and mainly the ones who only talked to him in hopes to get to Bruce Wayne, his adoptive millionaire of a father. Jason never bothered to try and make friends, especially since he could sense their motives from a mile away. He didn’t care about school, his life revolved around nightlife. His responsibilities as Robin. Ever since he first put the suit on he felt exhilarated, he felt whole, like he was on top of the world. His day life was too mundane, too boring. 

The teacher rambled through another lecture, trying to get the students involved and even though a few did catch interest, Jason felt bored and ignored the teacher to look out the window. The class was right next to the open field that was by the entrance of the academy. He noticed three figures walking up the sidewalk to the front doors. It was a taller dark haired man, a red headed woman, and a smaller figure. A girl. close to his age or probably a year younger than him. Was she late? Was she new? 

“Mr. Todd. Would you like to tell us what we just discussed?”, Jason snapped to look at the teacher who stood tapping her foot impatiently. 

“I, um..”

“Focus. Next time I won’t give you a warning.”, Jason scowled at her comment, sliding down in his seat as he zoned out once again. Another 15 minutes passed and there was a knock on the door. The teacher stopped to open the door and the schools Head Director stepped through, the girl from earlier behind him. Jason immediately snapped up, his attention back in focus. 

“Good morning class. Sorry to interrupt Ms. Leonard but you have a new student for your second hour class. Class, this is (Y/n) (L/n). She’s new at Gotham Academy and she’ll be in your second year classes for the remainder of year and moving forward until graduation. Please introduce yourself during passing periods and make her feel welcome.” 

You didn’t say hello or even introduce yourself, you just moved to the first empty seat you saw and class continued for the last ten minutes before being dismissed. Jason followed behind you, seeing as some people tried to introduce themselves and you just ignored them. Aren’t new kids supposed to like this type of attention? 

The school day went by and Jason found that the two of you shared two classes together, which was a given since you were in the same year and Gotham Academy kept classmates close to build those networks and friendships. 

The day ended and Jason walked back to the Manor, his head focused on you all day. Why did you look familiar? He didn’t see you after class, especially since the last hour you had different classes. When he arrived home, he went to the kitchen to find Alfred preparing dinner for him, Dick, and Bruce. Jason walked to the fridge and grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge and undid the cap as he heard Alfred’s voice echo through the room. 

“Good afternoon Master Jason. I hope school went well today.”, his voice was calm as it normally was, Jason watching as he placed something into the oven. 

“Hey Alfred. Yeah, it was interesting. We have a new girl in our class”, Jason said as he leaned over the counter, taking a drink of his water. 

“A new student? Isn’t it a bit late in the term?”

“That’s what I was thinking. Maybe her family was able to pull some strings and get her enrolled. She’s quiet.”, Jason thought back at your actions back at school.

“She’s probably just not used to such a place like the academy. You remember how overwhelming it was when you first started?”, Alfred had a point.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right Alfred.”, Jason grabbed another water from the fridge before heading upstairs. “I’ll be down for dinner in a bit.”

Jason closed the door, locking it before pulling out his laptop and trying to do a soft search on your background. He used Bruce’s background systems, the state or the art and yet, you were completely nonexistent. No background, no family, no education, nothing. But how did you get into Gotham Academy if you didn’t even have a public record? 

He thought, thinking of the names of the couple he saw walk you into the school. He typed in their names, and like he hit the jackpot, he was able to see their family history and that you were adopted recently by them. The East End Orphanage. Where all the kids who live on the street go if they’re under 18 and somehow get caught by the police. Jason knew that most kids preferred to live on the street than deal with the messiness of an adoption, to deal with the publicity and image that the families would get for helping a “troubled life”. It was an ego booster for the high class in Gotham. Nothing more. 

Yet, he wanted to give your particular family the benefit of the doubt. 

Maybe it wasn’t that way for you. 

Jason closed the laptop. He had no right looking into your background when he didn’t even know you. You could just be some other new student and mind your business and him his. Yet a tugging in his chest made it difficult to leave things just be. 

He ignored the thought as he changed out of his clothes and went into the gym, letting his mind drift into patrol training versus the new girl in his class. That needed his focus more. 

Jason looked out the window, taking in some of the seniors outside in the lawn playing soccer as he tuned out whatever his teacher was saying about midterms. Right then, the bell had rung for class to be dismissed, his body in autopilot as he grabbed his bag and walked into the hall, the crowds of students flooding the hallways as he made his way to his locker. Although Jason was well known and popular at the Academy, he often felt bored with the day to day, his friends being the only thing keeping him from just skipping class. That and Bruce would actually kill him if he found out Jason was skipping his classes. 

As he walked towards the lockers, he saw a familiar set of (h/c) hair, his heart skipping a beat as he watched you in front of your locker, your face buried in a textbook. Jason stopped in the hall, contemplating his next move as he bit his lip, his impulsiveness winning over logic. He walked towards you, trying to come up with an approach in the five seconds it would take to reach you. 

He walked towards you, all eyes watching as he reached your locker and your head lifted, turning to face him with a blank expression and darkness in your eyes. Damn. If he didn’t already know any better he would think you wanted to rip his head off with how dark and blank your stare was. You didn’t say anything, and it made him get a chill from the awkwardness that filled the air, but forced himself to speak with confidence. 

“Hey”, he said in a calm, even tone, casually leaning against the locker next to yours. 

You stared at him blankly, your face neutral with uninterest. 

“I’ve seen you around.”, he continued. “You’re new here right? I just thought I’d say hi.”

You glanced at him, your eyes cold and indifferent. You didn’t smile or reply right away. You just closed your book, pushing it into the locker neatly before closing it then turning towards him. “I’m busy.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, trying to keep his composure but you really were standoffish. “Hey, I’m not a bad guy, I just… I’d like to get to know you better.”

Before you could answer, Jason’s friends, who had been watching from a few paces away, decided to make their presence known. They swaggered over, clearly enjoying the spectacle. 

“Jason, are you seriously trying to talk to her?” one of them snickered. “You know she’s got a reputation, right?”, by the time Jason tried to catch you, you were long gone, disappearing into the ocean of people. He felt a tug in his gut, an annoyance flooding him as he listened to his friends continue their stupid spiel. 

Another friend stepped closer, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Yeah, I heard she’s been in trouble—like, serious trouble. Thief, arrested, all that crap. Why waste your time?”

“Guys, seriously, lay off. I’m just trying to have a conversation.”, he protested. “She’s new, it doesn’t hurt to make transfer students feel more welcome.”

“She isn’t a transfer dude, she was picked up off the street.”

One of them threw their arm around his shoulders, leaning in mocking him. “Oh, man. Are you that desperate? C’mon you’re a Wayne. You can do better than that.”

“Seems like Mr. Wayne passed down the charm, always gotta be nice to everyone.”

“Shit, Jason. You could use that charm on any other girl, why her?”

“Why don’t we fuck with her, set her up on a fake date and see if she shows. Man that’ll be hilarious” 

Jason felt a surge of annoyance. What dicks. “You guys are assholes. Why are you guys even indulging in dumbass rumors, just because there’s talk doesn’t mean it’s true.” 

“It’s not about what’s true or not. She has a record, someone found her juvenile record, it’s fact. You’re really gonna get involved with someone like that?”

“C’mon man, you’re a Wayne, you got no business entertaining someone at that low of a level”

Little did they know he also had a juvenile record, luckily enough, Bruce was able to keep it off public. It was erased completely actually. Regardless of his name, thanks to his adoptive father, he was no different than you. The Wayne name was the only thing that separated him from who he was before Bruce found him. His jaw clenched at how easy it was for these assholes to rip into anyone they saw as beneath them. 

“Whatever. I’m not interested in rumors.”, he spit out, his friends only shrugging and laughing it off. 

“Ah, alright. We’re just fucking around. C’mon let’s go to gym. Coach will kill us if we’re late again.” 

Jason rolled his eyes, his head turning back down the hall, staring at the empty space where your presence lingered before he turned around and continued down the opposite direction with his so-called friends. 

He wondered if he’d see you at the Academy again, his mind filled with how different the entire interaction could’ve gone. He pushed the thought away as he continued down the hall, the day passing by and everything continuing as it normally did everyday.

Once school was released, Jason sat outside during the last few minutes of the day before heading off, heading a group of girls past behind him and started to laugh. Their voices clawed at his insides. 

“Is that…. Is that her?”

“Yeah, I heard that they took her off the streets after she got arrested”

“Who let a person like that into the academy? Have we started going downhill?”

He turned his head slightly to see what they were laughing at. Jason felt himself burn with anger, his chest filling with an anger he didn’t know how to control. He turned his head, looking at the girls as they stifled their laughs and pointed at you as you walked by. 

He knew the girls did nothing but start rumors, they were known for this at the academy but he felt something stab at him when he saw you trip and fall to the ground, the contents of your bag falling everywhere. This fucker. Jason thought as he saw a familiar set of blonde hair towering over you, mocking and laughing at you. 

“Looks like you still enjoy picking trash off the ground, streetrat.”, the comment alone made Jason boil. You were picking up your belongings when he saw the guy grab your arm and tighten his hand enough to make it noticeable. 

“Hey, I’m talking to you, street rat” 

Jason had enough, if he didn’t stop this no one else would. He was surprised they were even able to find out who you were in the past few weeks. Turns out the blonde’s father was in business with your adoptive father and he had mentioned the topic of adopting you from the East End Orphanage and so started the whispers in the hallways. Even Jason couldn’t ignore them. 

“Now, let’s calm down, yeah?”, Jason’s voice hardened, stepping in front of you to block you from view in hopes they would leave. 

“You’re lucky I don’t have time to waste on charity cases, Todd.”, and with that he left. 

“Sorry about that, you okay? It looks like your arm might bruise up”, Jason stretched his hand out to help you stand but you pushed him aside and walked away. 

“Hey! You’re walking away again?”, he hadn’t even had enough time to stop as you whipped around to look into his eyes, his heart skipping a beat. 

“Who are you? What do you want?”, you asked him with a sting in your tone. He looked at you with surprised eyes.

“I remember you, from a few months ago. I offered you water.”, he tried to get you to listen but you replied harshly,  not bothering to turn around. 

“No, sorry. I think you got the wrong person.”. 

He stood there in place as you walked off, heading back towards the courtyard to grab his own bags when he noticed the same blonde from earlier. He walked up, grabbing his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. 

“What’s up with that, Todd? We don’t give people like her a second thought. This academy was built on prestige, don’t waste your time trying to convince her that she belongs here. She will never be one of us.”

“I think that’s a load of shit and you know it, Mitch.”

“Whatever. But know where your loyalties lie. You’re the son of Bruce Wayne, not some street rat who plays suits.”, with that, he turned and walked away. Jason watching his retreating figure. 

Little do they know. 

He breathed before walking back towards the manor. 

There was an overwhelming sensation flooding his body, the way he was able to take flight and feel the wind on his skin and feel free. For the first time in his life, Jason felt on top of the world. Jason took a deep breath, savoring the crisp night air as it whipped past him. He was stunting his new Robin suit that Bruce had helped update for his growing stature. The mask fit his face better and the utility belt held more variety of weapons.

The new Robin suit was more than just an upgrade; it was a symbol of trust and growth. Bruce had never given him this much space before, and Jason intended to prove he was ready for it. The suit's upgraded features and enhanced utility belt felt like an extension of himself, perfectly in tune with his movements. It was the best thing that he could receive almost like he was a kid opening presents on Christmas. 

He had the night to himself. It was rare that Bruce would let him out on his own, but he promised to stay out of trouble in order to get him to approve of his nightly adventures. He was at an age where Bruce trusted him to go out alone and not get into trouble. Trouble meant being potentially benched from the field and that was not something he wanted. Not when he felt on top of the world right now. 

He found himself going through the city, jumping from the roofs of buildings one after another. He came across a building that looked over the main streets of Gotham, the lights shining up from the ground. He jumped on the top of the roof and looked down at the streets. The sounds of the cars passing by and the small noises of the people left on the street filled the night to keep it from feeling eerie. 

Jason looked over the passing cars, his eyes looking over the streets until he turned his head, catching a glimpse of a figure sitting on the edge of the building. He used the compact binoculars in his belt to look, seeing a girl around the same age as him, her back facing him so she was oblivious to his quiet figure. He wondered what she was doing out alone in the cold, and why so late at night?

He jumped down from the building that was just a bit taller from where you sat. walking over to you, his stealth helping from making a loud noise when he jumped down. He noticed that she had (h/c) hair, reaching her mid back and it was a bit messy, blowing in the air since it started to get colder as the minutes passed. 

“It’s a bit chilly to be out here isn’t it?”, he said, announcing his presence. 

You turned around, looking at him with the most beautiful pair of (e/c) eyes he had ever seen. You were prettier than he thought. Hell, he can’t even remember if any of the girls at the Academy were as pretty as she was. Your skin being illuminated by the light of the city, noticing your knee bouncing from the cold. It was a lot colder tonight than the past few days. 

You saw his face and after looking down at his chest, the noticeable ‘R’ shining on his chest like a badge of honor and protection. You seemed to visibly calm down. That gave him the perfect in to get closer to you. 

“Shouldn’t you be with the Batman or did you finally get granted privileges?”, you spoke out, the sarcasm dripping from your tone. He smirked to himself, amused by your comment. 

“That’s funny, but I do go solo sometimes, get a feel of the streets.”, he walked over and stood next to where you were sitting, trying to act as cool as possible at the fact that he was sitting next to one of the prettiest girls he had seen in a while. Probably ever in his whole life, even more than Barbara. 

“What are you doing up here? Don’t you have a curfew?”, he genuinely asked, wondering why someone as young as you was sitting out in the middle of the night. Of course, she could ask the same to him. 

“I snuck out. Don’t necessarily care what the family tells me.”, he noticed the sadness in your tone and the fact that you didn’t say ‘my’ family but ‘the’ family. Were you adopted? An indentured servant? 

“I see, well, I’m Robin, what’s your name?”, he smiled at you, hoping he could get some sort of response. 

“If I tell you, will you leave me alone?”, Okay ouch. 

“Depends”, he said while swinging his feet, trying to act as nonchalant as he could to get a name out of you. 

“Depends on what?”

“Depends on how this conversation goes.”, Jason kept poking at you, hoping you would give your name even though he knew he couldn’t give his in return. 

“(Y/n).”

He smiled over at you before looking back over the city. It suited you well, it sounded like it would be the only name he would end up thinking about for the next few days.

“That’s a nice name”. 

He noticed your hands shaking, pulled open a small compartment to his belt and pulled out a little baggie, turning on the heat button and passing it to you calmly. You looked down at his hands before you hesitated in taking the item. 

“It’s a hand warmer”, Jason answered, knowing your question was stuck in the back of her throat. Your eyes narrowed slightly before taking it, he watched as you let the warmth sink into your skin and hold it in a tight grasp. 

“Why are you up here alone?”, he found himself a bit intrigued, he couldn’t quite place why he wanted to sit and talk to you, maybe it was just his hormones, puberty, or something else but he couldn’t bring himself to care for the reason. 

“It helps me escape.”. He paused not knowing what to say to that but somehow understood what you meant. Hell, he chose to become Robin to escape from living in the streets. Of course, Bruce found him and took him in, training him and showing him the ropes but it was still his form of escape. His freedom all wrapped in red, black, and yellow. 

“I don't have to think about the world down there, I can just escape reality for a while”, Jason stared at you for a moment longer, feeling the emotion that poured out of you touch him “This city hasn’t been kind to me, so being up here lets me escape that I live in this shithole.”

“Would you leave if you could?”, he asked. 

“Oh god, yes. If I could hop on a plane and disappear from this city forever I would do it in a heartbeat.”, Jason smiled at the response, a part of him having the same feeling. 

He felt like he could escape from his life on the streets when Bruce took him in. He felt like this second life as a vigilante distracted him from the cruelty in the world, wishing he could get rid of all the bad people in the world and make it a better place. 

“Yeah, me too.” he answered truthfully, hoping you’d find solace in his answer. 

Jason felt your eyes staring at him, and he turned to look at you. Everything seemed to fall perfectly into place, the moment was everything he needed at that point in time. Right when the moment seemed too perfect to be ruined, that familiar voice rang out through his comms. 

“Robin, where are you?”, he turned off his radio, forcing himself to his feet and stepping off the ledge. 

“I’m sorry. I have to go.”, he apologized and noticed your face glow with a small smile. It made him happy knowing there was someone who found the same escape in such a shitty city. Right as he turned to leave, he stopped, turning towards you, and speaking out. 

“I hope we can meet again soon, it’d be nice to get to know you more (Y/n).”.

~

~

~

Jason felt like a love sick boy, the days went by slowly when he wouldn’t see you. He knew the both of you went to the same academy, but he couldn’t risk making himself stick out that much to you. It would give away who he was too carelessly. Though, he enjoyed being able to spend the spare time of his patrol nights with you. You both shared your dreams and future aspirations, the way the world was cruel but there could be good in it too. 

The both of you had a lot in common, Jason especially liked that your eyes would shine when you talked about traveling and seeing the world. You wanted to try all these different foods and see different museums, the biggest libraries, everything. He liked that the most, that you found interest in similar things like he did. He loved reading books and you liked art and museums. You were deep and intricate about things people at the Academy were very surface level about. When you mentioned wanting to visit libraries and galleries abroad, Jason turned to you, raising his pinky up and promising a pact for the two of you. You stared at him before raising your own pinky, promising with him. Jason promised to leave Gotham with you once you were old enough, to see the world and visit every place on your bucket list. He got drunk off your laughter, especially when you smiled at him and promised that you would follow him to every part of the world.

Jason wasn’t sure when he started to feel so strongly about you, but he was sure he was starting to fall for you. You two just clicked, it was all so natural, so calming, so mundane. It brought him into wanting to live a normal life with you, maybe even the rest of his. He liked that you had a fiery personality, you weren’t scared to stand up for yourself and you were passionate about the things you wanted. It made you stand out that much more to him and he wondered if any part of him stood out to you too.

Jason remembers you sharing about your life on the streets, the way the family that was a part of Gotham’s elite adopted you, and the way you felt grateful but spiteful at the same time. He felt his heart tug at the thought of the city being so cruel to you. He wanted to be the one you found comfort in. He could see how your eyes changed when he told you how happy he was when someone like Bruce had taken him in, seeing the softness in your eyes. Jason found comfort in you, even if you were only strangers to one another, he enjoyed knowing you more. 

Jason felt the wind on his skin and brushing through his hair, the wind softly blowing yours as well. The both of you stood on the ledge of the building, looking down. Jason was known for his crazy antics within the family, his impulsivity, but in that moment he was sure he wanted to show you what flying felt like. He grabbed the grappling hook from his belt, extending his hand out to you, your eyes filled with confusion and uncertainty but took his hand anyway. 

The way you felt against him made him go crazy, almost like your body was made to fit in his perfectly. He grabbed you tightly, your arms around his neck and he shot the line and jumped off the building once it hooked. You were in the air for what felt like a lifetime, the sound of your laughter filling the air and his own following after yours. 

He kicked the window to the abandoned building in order to land safely, rolling over, Jason found himself under you, his heart beating fast inside his chest. The laughter leaving your mouth still sounds like a melody to him. 

Jason raised his hand and brushed your hair behind your ear, your smile still painted on your face in the most beautiful way. He smiled back at you, still trying to catch his breath. In that moment, he felt as though he lost control of all thought, he lost all self-control, he needed you to know how he felt. Needed to know how you tasted. 

He leaned up, placing a hand behind your head, and softly placing his lips against yours. He felt you tense slightly, but leaned into the kiss, the softness of them making him swoon. He tried to memorize the way they felt against his own, wanting them for the rest of his life. 

Jason wanted you, he was so sure. He hadn’t ever wanted anything so intently and intensely in his life before, not even being Robin compared to how he felt with you. You were like a newfound freedom, a deep rooted connection he never wanted to get rid of, a reason to keep going. 

And he would be yours in a heartbeat, all you had to do was tell him.

He wanted to be yours, he wanted you to have him.

All of him. 

That night, Jason returned to the Batcave, his heart still racing from his time with you, your touch lingering and overwhelming his senses. As he made his way in, the subdued hum from the Batcomputer and the dim lighting created a comforting backdrop, making the ambiance seem fitting to the cave. He took off his domino mask, holding it in his hands as he began to slip out of his Robin suit and started stowing it away when he heard Bruce’s voice, deep and steady, as it called out from the shadows. 

“You’re back early tonight.”

Jason’s head looked up, taking in Bruce’s form as he stepped out from behind the Batmobile, his cowl coming off his head as he revealed his face in a calm resting expression. Bruce;s eyes focused on Jason’s form, a mixture of curiosity and intrigue filling his expression. 

“Yeah, just finished up early.”, Jason replied, trying to keep his tone light as he shrugged. He moved over to the equipment area, pretending to check his stock in his belt. “Gotta keep an eye on things, you know, Robin things.”

Bruce’s gaze didn’t waver, his deduction already aware of where exactly Jason had been spending his nights alone the past few weeks. “You’ve been in a good mood lately. Anything specific happen tonight?”, Bruce questioned as he walked over to the computer. “You’ve been disappearing quite a bit on your solo patrols, even when we don’t have missions.”

Jason shrugged again, trying to stay nonchalant but couldn’t mask his subtle smile. “Nothing really, just nice to get out and do things alone. You know how it is.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced by Jason’s answer. “You’ve been out a lot more than usual, and not just on patrols.”

Jason fidgeted with a piece of gear, avoiding Bruce’s piercing gaze. "It’s just… been a good week. I just like going out alone. Sometimes, it’s nice to have something to look forward to."

Bruce’s expression hardened slightly, though he kept his tone even. "Jason, you know you can talk to me about anything. If something’s going on, I need to know. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe."

Jason met Bruce’s gaze briefly before looking away, back to fidgeting with his utility belt. "I’m fine, Bruce. Really. Just… enjoying life a little, that’s all. Enjoying the freedom"

Bruce’s eyes lingered on Jason. He had noticed the changes, the occasional late-night absences that didn’t coincide with their patrols. He understood the need for personal space, especially at Jason’s age but his obvious dismissal and evasiveness was a red flag. Deep down, Bruce knew there was more than Jason was letting on, and even if he wouldn’t say it out loud, Bruce already deduced exactly why. 

"Alright," Bruce said after a moment, though his tone remained serious. "Just remember, being Robin isn’t just about the suit or the thrill. It’s about responsibility and trust. Don’t let anything—" 

Jason cut him off, a touch of defensiveness in his voice. "I know, Bruce. I’m on top of it. Just—give me a little space, okay? I’ve got this."

Bruce studied him for a moment longer before nodding, though his concern remained evident. "If you need anything, you know where to find me."

Jason nodded and gave a light smile. "Thanks, Bruce."

As Bruce turned to leave, Jason’s expression softened slightly, a mix of relief and unresolved tension. Jason knew he was only trying to act like a good father figure, he knew Bruce cared about him and his safety but for now he wanted to keep you separate from his life at home. He wanted that part for himself. You were his own and he didn’t want to share that with Bruce or the rest of the family just yet. 

The early afternoon sunlight cast a warm glow over Gotham, the streets filled with all sorts of people either shopping, meeting up with friends, getting lunch, or just window shopping. Bruce and Jason walked through the upscale shopping district as the sounds of conversations floated all around them, the crowds enjoying the light breeze of the weather and soaking in the sun. Bruce suggested a brief outing to pick up a gift for one of his ‘friends’, a rare but nice moment that allowed both of them a sense of being normal people in society instead of vigilantes. 

Jason trailed slightly behind Bruce as they entered a nice jewelry store, the cases filled with intricate and beautifully designed pieces. Bruce walked around before stopping at a case, observing all of the pieces inside as Jason wandered off to the other side of the store, his attention drawing to a small display that held a collection of emerald jewelry pieces. The display had different handcrafted jewelry from delicate necklaces, dainty earrings, and intricate bracelets.

Jason paused, his eyes drawn to a dainty necklace displayed in the case, the green stone stunning as it reflected under the light. It was a classy design, simple but with a beautiful dark green emerald inside. It was the perfect mix of timeless and personable. The color and elegance drew him in, and before he knew it, he was calling over one of the clerks to help him. 

Bruce had noticed Jason talking to the clerk, his eyes observing as Jason pointed to the necklace in the case and examining it with his own eyes. Jason’s demeanor was different from his usual confident bravado; he seemed almost contemplative, as if weighing a decision of significant importance.

“Is this the necklace?”, the clerk asked as Jason nodded, looking at it with observant eyes. “Excellent choice, you have a very good eye, sir.”

Jason cleared his throat, slightly flustered but held his composure. “I’m also wondering, do you have any earrings that could possibly match this?”.

The clerk nodded, guiding Jason to the case just next to the necklaces as he pointed out a few different pairs. Bruce watched quietly as he picked out the gift he was getting, his curiosity piqued. Jason hadn’t ever bought gifts for anyone, but his choices in the jewelry shop were thoughtful and intentional. He was picking something special, with meaning, it wasn’t just a random purchase. 

After a few moments, Jason picked between four pairs of earrings, selecting the one that would go best with the necklace. The clerk nodded as he wrapped up the items neatly inside small velvet lined boxes before placing them carefully inside the store marked branded bag. Jason walked over to the register, pulling out his wallet and the card Bruce had gotten him that had his monthly allowance on it, quickly paying for the items and thanking the clerk for his help. 

Jason walked over to Bruce, who also had his own bag with jewelry inside, the both of them walking out and continuing their walk through the streets. “Something special for someone?”

Jason tensed, Bruce’s question catching him off guard as he smiled slightly with an airy laugh. “Just a small gift. Thought it might brighten someone’s day.”

“$5,000 is hardly a small gift.”, Bruce chuckled, the small tease going over Jason’s head as he saw his jaw clench and his shoulders tense. He raised an eyebrow at his son, deciding not to press further. He could tell Jason wasn’t ready to share those details, deciding it was better for him to share on his own terms. “It’s thoughtful. I’m sure whoever gets it will appreciate it.”, Bruce offered a genuine smile at Jason. 

“Yeah, I hope so”, Jason nodded, a small smile playing at his lips.

As they left the jewelry store and continued through the shopping district, Bruce couldn’t help but feel a sense of curiosity mingled with a hint of pride. Despite the tension that sometimes hung between them, moments like these reminded him that Jason was growing into his own person, a well raised young man that would eventually take the world by storm. Bruce felt a lot of pride in him, knowing he would soon be someone who valued his morals and family above all. 

The two walked side by side, each one lost in their own thoughts as a comfortable silence fell over the both of them. Jason felt a sense of anticipation, feeling content in his choice of his gift for you that made him feel warm inside, a feeling only he would cherish. Bruce felt a calm and relaxing feeling, the day a reminder of how in the midst of their complex lives, the both of them could still have mundane and normal lives outside of the night. 

~

~

~

The dining room of Wayne Manor was filled with the fresh smell of a well-prepared home cooked meal, thanks to Alfred’s gift for cooking. The food was set up nicely at the table, everything well laid for the family to share their weekly family dinner as tradition. 

Jason was wearing his normal home attire, a pair of dark jeans and an oversized hoodie as he leaned back in his chair, looking at some texts from his classmates from school for the midterm study group he had. Bruce eyed him, clearing his throat before Jason tucked his phone away. 

Bruce was stuck about his no phone at the table rule.

Bruce sat at the head of the table, quietly looking over his meal as the both of them waited for the final member to join them at the table. The atmosphere was quiet and calm, a normal and common aura that Jason had grown used to. The quiet was short lived when he heard his older brother barge through the front door and greet Alfred, making his way to the dining room and placing two hands on Jason’s shoulders. 

“Hey Jay, how’s it going”, he smirked, poking Jason’s cheek as Jason swatted him away. 

“Screw off, Dick.”, Jason pushed his older brother away, rolling his eyes as Dick walked over to greet Bruce before sitting down at the table. 

“So, how’s life as Boy Wonder, been enjoying it? God I hope you’re bringing it justice, can’t have you tarnishing the Robin name”, Dick was as overdramatic as he was charismatic and charming, but Jason looked up to his older brother even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud. 

“Doing just fine. Been doing more for the Robin name than you ever could”, Jason smirked as Bruce smiled at himself. 

“Ooo, you’re playful today. What’s got you in a good mood?”, Dick leaned forward, taking a bite of his food as he raised an eyebrow at Jason. 

“Nothing.”, he said in a neutral tone. 

“Nah, what’s going on?”, Dick continued. “Oh, is it a girl? Alfred told me about how you bought a $5,000 necklace for a mystery person”

“Master Dick, please keep me out of your teasing”, Alfred said as he placed another pitcher of water on the table, replacing the empty one. 

“C’mon, you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed that Jason’s been less grumpy the past few weeks”, Dick smirked, “There’s something going on, c’mon Jay, spill.” 

Jason narrowed his eyes, “Drop it, Dick.”

“You’re the one being all secretive. C’mon what happened to us telling each other everything? Besides, you’re starting to creep me out. You’re never this happy” 

The annoyance radiated off of Jason as he glared at his older brother. He might be the golden boy but he was an annoyance more than anything. 

Bruce finally decided to stop keeping his silence, speaking across the table at his adoptive sons. “Dick, let Jason have his privacy.”

“Ugh, fine”, Dick rolled his eyes, going back to his food but not before getting in his final words. “You owe me details later”, he said as he pointed his fork at Jason who ignored him. As Dick relaxed into his seat, Alfred chimed in regardless of how he just asked to be left out of the conversation. 

“Master Jason’s mood has improved significantly over the past few weeks.”, Alfred said casually, Jason slumping in his seat. “It’s nice to see him engaged and happy for a change.”

Bruce glanced at Jason, before looking over at Alfred, “Indeed. It’s good to see some change around here.”

The rest of the dinner was quiet, only filled with talk about Dick’s new job and how he and Barbara were supposed to go out for dinner in a week. Bruce only added in where the conversation needed it as well as Alfred. Jason ignored the conversation entirely, his mind entirely else where as he tried to focus on finishing dinner and retreating to his room. 

When dinner finished, Jason walked to the back of the house, stepping into the cool air as he looked at the pool that was in the backyard, enjoying the quiet. The sound of the sliding door opening made him turn around, then turn away in annoyance. 

“So, you gonna share what’s got you so happy?”, Dick teased. “Are you trying to keep her a secret?”, Jason looked away as Dick wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Ah, c’mon. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Back when I was Robin, I had all of the girls after me. It was a bit of a problem honestly.”

“Yeah, but you also couldn’t keep a girlfriend. You’re a dog, Dick.”, Jason muttered. 

“Ah, c’mon. Who is she? Is she cute? What is she like? Well she has to be pretty mature to tolerate someone as broody as you.”, Dick continued as he ruffled Jason’s hair, the annoyance seeping deeper into Jason’s bones. 

“Dick, leave Jason alone.”, Bruce had stepped out into the yard, having a basketball in hand as he walked over to both the boys.

“Hell yeah, 2 v. 1?”, Dick asked with a smirk, and Bruce sent one back.”C’mon Jay, you and me against the old man.”

Jason smirked at his older brother, following behind him as the three of them moved over to the basketball court and continued the evening with a friendly basketball game. The sense of normalcy falling over the family as thoughts of Jason’s improved mood began to slip away into the night, the only focus on the game the three of them played.

~

~

~

One Week Later

The dining room of the manor was quiet, the occasional clink of silverware ringing out through the silence. Bruce sat across from Jason at the table, enjoying the meal Alfred had prepared for the night. Despite having a nice dinner and the ambiance being calm, Jason felt distant, distracted, and his thoughts all over the place. 

Bruce watched him from across the table, noticing Jason’s distracted behavior. “Something on your mind, Jason?”

Jason’s eyes snapped towards Bruce, looking back down at his place with furrowed brows. “Nothing. Just… a lot on my mind recently.”

“Anything you want to talk about?”, Bruce hummed. 

“It’s just… it’s nothing.”

“You know you can talk to me right? You don’t have to keep everything bottled up.”, Bruce said openly, hoping Jason would take his offer to help. 

Jason only sighed, his mind still all over the place and couldn’t think straight. “It’s complicated. I’d rather just not get into it.”, he shifted in his seat. 

“Is it about that girl you’ve been sneaking out to see in the middle of the night?”, Bruce spoke calmly as he raised his fork to his mouth and took a bite of his food. Jason straightened, looking at Bruce from across the table. 

“How did you..”

Bruce raised an eyebrow at him, his gaze steady. “I’m a detective, Jason. Don’t act like I wouldn’t have figured it out eventually.”

Jason’s face flushed slightly, a mix of embarrassment and frustration crossing his features. “Are you going to make me stop seeing her?”

Bruce’s expression changed slightly, though his voice remained firm. “No. As long as it doesn’t affect your performance in the field, I’m not going to interfere. But you know what happens if she gets too involved.”

Jason’s eyes met Bruce’s, “I know. I’ve been careful.”

“You need to keep a balance. If your personal life starts compromising your work, it will become a problem. But I trust you to manage that.”

Jason’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, though his mind was clearly still preoccupied. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

The dinner continued in silence, Jason’s thoughts still spinning as they led back to you. He was struggling with the choice of telling you about who he was. Would Bruce even let him or would he shut down the idea immediately? That would be something to get into another time but for the time being Jason just wanted nothing more but to ensure that he was careful. 

He’d never forgive himself if you somehow got tangled up in his work in the field. He’d make sure that never happened. 

Even if his life depended on it. 

┆ ┆ ┆ ┆⋆ ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆⋆ ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆⋆ ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆⋆

Your laugh filled the air as Jason continued to tell you about his latest mission with Bruce and how he managed to knock out a bunch of Penguin’s goons when Bruce had cornered them after trying to rob a bank. He watched as the brightness in your eyes met his gaze, making him feel like he was on top of the world. 

“It was great”, he smiled brightly, his cheeks hurting from laughing for the past 15 minutes. “So, what about you? Anything exciting?”

You rolled your eyes as you played with the small ninja star he had let you hold. He’d always showed you the least dangerous weapons in his utility belt, aka those that couldn’t explode while you messed with it. 

“Not really.”, you smiled. “Oh, well maybe this might be interesting.”

He leaned back on his hands, letting his hair fall over his forehead instead of pushing it back. “Okay, shoot.”

“There’s this guy at school who keeps trying to talk to me and I don’t know what his deal is but it’s kinda annoying.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, trying to hold back a smirk. “Annoying how?”

“He’s always trying to get my attention, like he’s constantly hovering around me. He’s nice enough, but it feels like he’s just trying too hard. I don’t get it.”

Jason’s lips curled into a knowing grin as he tried to suppress a chuckle. “Sounds like he’s a bit overzealous.”

You glanced at him, sensing his amusement but not understanding the reason behind it. “Yeah, tell me about it. It’s like he doesn’t get the hint.”

Jason just laughed, letting himself enjoy the naivety you had. “Sometimes people do weird things. Maybe he just wants to be your friend.”

“I don’t need friends.”

“So what does that make me then?”, he moved his head towards you. 

“A pain in my ass”, you smiled at him and Jason moved his hands towards his chest in a stabbing motion as shoved him gently while he laughed. 

“You seem to think its funny when it’s not”

“Just give the guy a chance, maybe he’ll be more than you expect.”, he shrugged nonchalantly. 

“I think I’ll pass. Besides I don’t need anyone else, I have you.”, you said as you hugged your knees to your chest and laid your head on them, watching him as your hair fell over your arm but framed your face perfectly.

The night continued in ease, the both of you catching up after a week of not seeing each other, the smile on Jason’s face never leaving. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on his: he knew he was the reason for your annoyance but he enjoyed seeing this feisty side of you. When he first saw you in school you were standoffish, closed off, maybe from moving to such an elite school full of people from a different life than you. He knew that feeling of assuming everyone saw him as a nobody, the only thing saving him was the Wayne name. 

He wished it could be as easy for you as it was for him. 

Maybe then it’d be easier to tell you about everything. 

┆ ┆ ┆ ┆⋆ ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆⋆ ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆⋆ ┆ ┆ ┆ ┆⋆

Today was one of the few times Jason and you were able to go out in daylight to enjoy yourselves together. It wasn’t often that he would meet with you in civilian clothing, but for some reason he wanted both of you to go out to the park. It was starting to get warmer and he figured a springtime walk wouldn’t hurt. He pushed his sunglasses up, watching as you stopped to look at everything in the ground. 

The flowers were starting to bloom and the trees started to grow buds that were slowly opening. It was a pretty sight indeed, not to mention the little family of ducks swimming in the lake right at the heart and center of the park. 

“It’s all so pretty don’t you think?”, you turned towards him as he stood there with his hands in his pockets smiling at you. He soaked in the sight of you looking at the flowers and kneeling to watch the small ducklings. 

It wasn’t often the two of you would go out like this together but moments like this were the exact reason he preferred going out than just being confined to the four corners of the roof. “Yeah it is. It’s a nice change for once.”

You looked up at him, your eyes sparkling with joy. “I didn’t realize you liked nature so much. I would’ve guessed you preferred staying perched on that roof.”

He chuckled, something he knew you admired about him. “I do like it, but some days it’s nice to just be in nature and not think about anything else. Disconnect from the city to connect with nature. That kind of thing.”

You stood up, brushing off your pants and walking towards him. “I mean we’re technically still in the city.”, you teased. 

“You get what I mean.”, he laughed as the both of you continued down the nature trail around the lake. He fell into step with you, both of you moving together with ease as you soaked in the rest of the sun and the gentle warmth it brought onto you. 

After a while, you both reached a nearby bench under a massive oak tree, its branches providing a small amount of shade as the both of you sat under it. You had stopped talking and looked down at the grass, Jason staring at you in concern. 

“Hey, you okay?”, he asked softly. 

“Yeah, it’s just… I’ve been thinking a lot.”, you murmured. 

“Thinking about what?”, his brows furrowed as he waited for your response, worried he might’ve done something wrong to make you upset. The last thing he wanted was to make you feel upset. 

“Just, you know a lot about me. You know what I look like, my birthday, the school I go to, the family and it feels like I don’t know anything like that about you.”, you looked up at him with vulnerable eyes. “I feel like it’s a bit unfair”, you let out an airy laugh.

“Y/n, you know I would tell you if I could.”, he answered. “It’s just… it’s complicated because..”, he trailed off as a couple walked by, waiting for them to be out of distance before continuing. “Because of my job.”

“I know, I know and I’m not expecting anything crazy it’s just..”, you trailed off again. “I mean… I wish I could know you.”, you whispered, your hands in your lap as you messed with the end of your sweater. “I wish I could know the real you.”

His heart skipped a beat in his chest, staring at you as he let your words sink in. The very thing he had been contemplating over the past few weeks were the very thing you just said you wanted. Was this the opening he needed to show himself to you?

He smiled weakly, looking at you with a warm gaze even though you couldn’t see it. “I know”, he murmured. It was all he could say. 

He leaned in, your eyes watching him with observant eyes as he grabbed your hand from your lap and stroking it gently. You soaked in his warmth and he could sense the desperation in your soul. The desire to know him, the desire to see his face, to know who he really was. He wanted that too. More than anything. 

He leaned closer towards you, reaching up to push your hair behind your ear as he caressed your cheek and leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a gentle yet emotionally charged kiss. You leaned into his, your hand squeezing his as he deepened the kiss. Your body soaked him in, wanting to feel his presence and him yours. 

After what felt like an eternity, Jason pulled away, touching his forehead with yours as he looked into your eyes. He felt it right then. The answer he’d been looking for the past few weeks. He knew what he wanted. 

He wanted you. 

Wanted to tell you who he was, wanted you to be a part of his life for however long you’d let him be there. He wanted to tell you his real name, wanted to introduce you to Bruce and Dick, wanted to show you how he trained for his missions and tell you how he was the guy from school.

He needed this. 

He needed you. 

The tension in the Batcave was palpable, the argument between Jason and Bruce growing more intense as Jason continued to push for his ask. The both of them stood facing each other, the dim lighting casting shadows over their faces as they stood face to face, both in their respective suits. The argument had been going for what felt like forever, both of them holding firm in their stance. 

“Jason. No.”, Bruce said, his voice filled with a deep seriousness and an overwhelming sense of authority, but it didn’t stop Jason like it normally would have. “You can’t tell her. It’s too dangerous.”

“Bruce, I trust her.”, Jason’s frustration was evident as he continued to push for this. “I don’t want to keep hiding who I am from her, what kind of relationship is that? What kind of person would that make me to keep seeing her and just lie to her about who I am?”

“It puts everyone at risk!”, Bruce stood tall, and even though Jason was a good foot shorter, he pushed his shoulders up, his posture matching Bruce’s as he held his gaze. 

“I won’t keep lying to her.”

Bruce’s face hardened, the weight of his responsibility as both a father and a protector clear in his eyes. “If you tell her who you are, she has to know about Dick and me. That’s putting her at risk—and us. You have to understand the implications.”

“How is this any different than you and Selina? How long did it take before Selina found out who you were?”, Jason used his trump card, his desperation seeping through. 

“That’s different, Jason.”

“How?! You two are basically always flirting and going out and you both know each other’s identities.” Jason felt himself growing frustrated with Bruce. “She knows who you are, you’re always going out with her and you both have been open about your double lives. Why can’t I have the same thing?”

Bruce sighed, seeing the resolve in Jason’s eyes. He knew well how rare it was for Jason to trust someone, it had taken him almost two years to trust Bruce, so him asking to share who he was with his mystery girl wasn’t something to take lightly. The depth of feeling Jason held towards you was clear and Bruce could see it from miles away. If it wasn’t for that fact, Bruce would have strictly shut down Jason’s request. 

“Bruce, please. I’m asking you to trust me on this. She’s the only person I want to share this with. I know she won’t say anything. Please, I can’t keep lying to her,” Jason’s voice wavered slightly, his emotions laid bare.

Bruce looked at him for a long moment, weighing the risks but even in his contemplation he could see Jason’s trust in you. After a moment of tense silence, Bruce spoke in the same firmness but with a hint of resignation. 

“Do you trust her?”

“Yes, I do.”, Jason spit the words out faster than he would’ve liked but he didn’t care. He wanted this more than anything. 

“Alright,” Bruce said, finally giving in. “You can tell her, but under one condition. If anything happens—if she’s put in danger or if you let this affect your duties—you’ll be benched from patrol and training for an entire year. That’s non-negotiable.”

“Fine, yes, deal. Thank you so much.”

Without thinking, and for the first time since he’d been taken in, Jason moved towards Bruce and hugged him. It was simple yet surprising for Bruce. With slowed hands, Bruce returned the hug briefly before Jason pulled back, a slight smile tugging on his lips as he grabbed his robin mask from where it was set on the Batcomputer. 

Jason quietly nodded towards Bruce, turning towards the exit of the cave and heading towards the elevator that led up to the manor. Jason couldn’t help but feel on top of the world, his heart pumping in his chest on how he would tell you. He wanted to do it within the next week, wanted to get it out of the way as soon as possible. 

He wanted you to know him as him. 

Just him. Just as Jason. 

That would be more than enough. 

~

~

~

A little less than a week went by, Jason’s entire world came crashing in. He received a note from a woman claiming to be his mother. Bruce had been there to analyze the note and check its validity, proving itself to be an authorized note. Jason felt himself desperate for answers, why his mother abandoned him, why he was forced to live on the streets for so long. 

“Bruce, I have to go”

“No. It could be a trap.”

“Bruce, if she’s claiming to be my mother, I want to know.” Jason pleaded. He needed answers, he needed that closure from the trauma the streets had caused him. 

Bruce stayed firm in his resolve. “Jason, you aren’t thinking clearly. This could be a trap, there is no reason to believe this could be your actual mother.”

Jason’s eyes grew darker, his face illuminated by the harsh light of the Batcomputer, showcasing the mix of anger and desperation. “Do you know what it’s like, Bruce?”, his voice wavered slightly. “To live with that void of never knowing why your mother left you? Not knowing why you were abandoned? I know you lost your parents because of someone else’s selfishness but wouldn’t you do anything to see them again and not be left alone in this city? Please… Please let me meet her. I need this.”

Bruce’s gaze hardened, his thoughts contemplating. He knew the feeling of the void all too well, it was something he wished could’ve been different for his younger self, and even though Jason had a point in wanting to connect with his mother as the abandoned son, Bruce couldn’t let him go. His protective instinct and intuition couldn’t let him. “If you go without proper planning you could end up in danger. This isn’t just about reconnecting, it’s your safety on the line too. You need to be smart about this.”

Jason’s anger flared. “So what? I should just sit here and do nothing while you make the decision for me? I’m tired of being left in the dark! I need to do this.”

After another long moment of back and forth, Bruce made his final decision, turning to head back to the manor as he left an emotionally overwhelmed and defeated Jason alone in the cave. The glow of the computer screens illuminated his face as he clenched his fists. The cave, usually Jason’s comfort place, felt like a prison. Bruce’s words echoing through the space as he stood still in place. 

His mind raced with the details of the note, replaying every word and the hope it had sparked. The unresolved trauma of his past felt like a heavy weight pressing down on him, and he could almost hear the echoes of his younger self, yearning for answers that had been so cruelly withheld. 

He let out a sigh of defeat, letting his shoulders slump as he went to get out of his uniform, taking off his utility belt as he let himself contemplate his options of where to go from here. He wanted to go but the more logical side of him knew Bruce had a point, yet something inside of him made him think if he could go at it alone. Would it help keep his sanity if he could just meet his estranged mother? 

The thought contemplated in his mind as he continued to undress and change into his night attire. His mind still all over the place but a subtle hint of rebellion lingering inside of him. 

If Bruce wouldn’t let him, he knew he would have to do this on his own. At Least for the sake of his sanity. 

Jason felt his heart pumping in his chest at a record speed, he felt on top of the world at the news he’d tell you. He arrived at the roof of the usual spot the two of you would always meet, calming himself down before walking over to where he could see you looking down at the street.

“(Y/n), I have to tell you something.”, he called out, wrapping his arms around you. He noticed how you had to crane your head up to look at him, the height difference made his heart flutter. He noticed the necklace around your neck, the necklace he got for your 15th birthday that brought out how beautiful your eyes were. He didn’t just choose the emerald stone for you, he picked it out to match his own hues. To secretly know he was with you always. 

“W-what is it?”, he heard the slight worry in your voice, but he smiled at you to help ease your nerves. His heart pounding in his chest, taking your hands before he spoke. 

“I know that we.. we’ve been..seeing each other, and I know you feel the same things that I do.”, the rush of adrenaline causing his heart to beat faster, you’d be the first to know outside the family who he really was. 

The real Jason. 

You’d get to meet him, his family, see into his life as Jason and not as Robin. 

“I want to tell you who I am, beneath the mask, beneath the Robin suit. I want to take it further. I just need to do something else first.” , he felt relief wash over him as the words left his mouth, a burden he hadn’t realized he was carrying was now lifted. He saw you stiffen, your eyes filled with concern and uncertainty. 

“I’ll be gone for a few days, so don’t think I’m abandoning you, okay? But I promise, when I come back, we’ll get a real date. You’ll know me as… me. I promise, okay? Wait for me, okay?”, the words left his lips all too fast, praying that you would wait for him, praying that you would have him and let him have you too. He saw you nod your head and hug him, his arms wrapping tightly around you, the words so close from leaving his lips at that moment. 

He grabbed your face and kissed you and you kissed back. The kiss was tender yet filled with every emotion he had bottled up. Your lips moved against his, feeling the surge of euphoria flow through his body. His heart exploded and he was like the happiest guy alive right then. He would come back, he would tell you his name, he would be yours and everything would be perfect.

He swore on his life he would come back and find you. 

He would tell you the words that were desperate to leave his lips.

He tasted the promise of a future together, and the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you.

You were the only thing he wanted. 

The stinging coursed through his body, the pain all-consuming. Jason felt every hit, every cracking sound of his bones, all the pain seemed to flood his body almost like every blow was carving itself into his very essence. It left him raw and exposed. He couldn’t find a way out, even with his blurred vision, he couldn’t even see where he was. His bones ached, his ribs burning him from the inside out because of the pain. 

“Which hurts more? A or B? Backhand or forehand?”, the maniacal clown asked out loud, the crowbar making contact with his already broken bones. Jason could feel each of his bones screaming in pain. He silently prayed that Bruce would be here. Silently prayed that he would come save him. 

How had he ended up here? Why hadn’t he heeded Bruce’s warnings? The questions tormented him, swirling in his mind like a storm. Did Bruce even know he was missing? Was there any chance of rescue?

The laughter echoed through the empty warehouse, the nightmarish sound echoed within the walls leaving Jason feeling haunted by the maniac that was beating him. The only thing that could be heard for miles was the Joker’s hysterical laughs. Laughs that seemed to burn themselves into Jason’s memory. Jason tried to muster the strength to speak, his voice coming out as a ragged, barely audible whisper. Joker yanked Jason’s head up by his hair, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“Ah, ah? Speak a little louder lamb chop, I think you might have a collapsed lung”, Jason spit the blood from his mouth into the Joker’s face. Joker’s response was swift and brutal—he slammed Jason down onto the concrete with a sickening thud.

The pain was eating him alive, how could he be so naive? Why didn’t he just listen to Bruce? Where was he? Did Bruce know he was missing? 

When the hits stopped, he heard the door close, the heavy silence fell over the warehouse signaling Joker’s departure. The stiffness settled into his body and he lifted himself from the ground, trying to walk before he collapsed again. His thoughts were focused on getting out, the intensity of the situation starting to settle in. 

His thoughts became a frantic whirl of fear and desperation. He dragged himself toward the door, his hands shaking as he fumbled with the handle. It was stuck, locked from the outside. Panic surged through him, making the pain in his ribs feel even more excruciating. The sense of hopelessness grew with every second that passed.

At that moment, he could only think of you. The nights you had spent together, the countless hours on the roof, the laughter, the warmth of your smile, spending your birthday together—every moment flashed back to him with vivid clarity it was almost unbearable. It all crashed back to him. He never thought that night three days ago would be the last time he’d hold you, the last time he’d feel your lips on his. Your presence forever burned into his memory, a bittersweet reminder of what he was losing.

A ticking noise grew louder, an insistent and chilling sound that filled the warehouse with an air of impending doom. Jason forced himself to look at the countdown timer mounted on the crates along the wall—ten seconds left before the explosives would obliterate the entire structure.

10…

The reality of his situation settled in, a cold, hard fact that there was no escaping the end that was so close.

9…

He knew that it was done.  

The weight of unfulfilled dreams and missed opportunities pressed heavily on him. The simple joys of life with you—late nights, shared moments, future plans—were slipping away, forever lost.

8…

He felt his world crashing in, the reality of never having been able to take you on a real date. 

The awareness of never truly discovering who he was, of never having the chance to share his world with you, was a bitter pill to swallow. The chance to explore new horizons was vanishing.

7…

The reality of never knowing who he was. Never getting to meet his family, never welcoming you into his world, never experiencing new places together or even getting to see each other again. 

The thought of never hearing his real name spoken with affection by you again was a sharp, painful reminder of what he was losing. The intimacy and connection he longed for were slipping through his fingers.

6…

The sorrow of never being able to call you his, of never again feeling the comfort and warmth of your presence, was a deep, hollow ache.

5…

Never getting to feel you near him again. 

4…

Never getting the chance to tell you how much he loved you. 

3…

He closed his eyes and rested his head back, accepting the inevitable. He silently sent a prayer to whatever being out there that existed that you knew how much he loved you, even when he never said it out loud. That you would be okay without him, that you wouldn’t lose hope. 

The weight of his regrets and the finality of his fate pressed down on him, making the seconds feel like an eternity.

He braced himself, his mind filled with memories of you, a final testament to the love and life he wished he could have shared with you.

The explosion was instantaneous. The warehouse was consumed in a blinding flash, a forceful wave that ripped through the structure with deafening intensity. The world shattered into chaos, the ticking stopped, and everything that had been a part of his final moments was obliterated.

In the midst of the destruction, there was a final, eerie silence—a silence that spoke of the end of pain and the conclusion of the torment. It was a silence where his love for you lingered, a final, unspoken testament to what had been and what might have been.

A/N:

I had been wanting to do an entire chapter from Jason's POV for a minute and had the flashback chapter in my mind for a while. I really hope you guys enjoyed this! Also just letting you know that new upload days will be Sundays! This just works easier for my schedule since I draft everything throughout the week and spend weekends editing so Sundays work best for me!

Again, thank you guys for all the love and support on this series, I think we only have 5 or 6 chapters left before the end?! It went by SO fast!

And also thank you for the love and support on my Sukuna x Reader story: Love of My Life! It's been doing so well and it makes me so happy that it's been received well.

Thank you guys again and see you next week! xx.

[beansnsoup]

Can we get Xavier protecting reader? Like maybe Bianca I’d jealous of their relationship or smth and is being mean to reader and Xavier is really protective and sweet?

Yes I can!

☆

Jealous Girl

Xavier Thorpe x gn!reader

Summary-:You were so happy to finally call Xavier yours, but everything come at a cost, out of all the people that could've been his ex, it just had to be Bianca Barclay.

Warnings: Bullying, slight angst, tinsy bit of violence, lmk if there is anything else!

-

I got out of your 3rd period this morning due to my teacher needing work done in the library, he was a good teacher, but he put all his paperwork onto his students. Honestly, I could never understand it, but then again, I wasn't complaining.

I began to walk up to the front desk to give the work to Thornhill until I overheard a few female students talking beyond the shelves,

"They're trying way to hard. He probably just asked them out as a rebound."

Oh my God, are they talking about me?

I had just gotten with "The Tortured Artist" of Nevermore, Xavier Thorpe. He and Bianca Barclay had broken up a few months ago, she's 10 times more irritating than she already was. She would always target me, I was just like any other kid at the school, an outcast, so I don't know why she had to single me out all the time.

I stopped my tracks so I could keep listening to their conversation.

"Right? It's honestly embarrassing. The way they were holding his hand today while walking down the hallway was so weird."

They all laughed, then Bianca chimed in,

"They probably brainwashed him or something, honestly can't think of another reason he'd want to ask them out."

That's when I decided it was time to find Thornhill and get out of here, the bell was going to ring soon anyways. I could feel myself getting lightheaded, I wanted to cry, I couldn't wait for the end of the day so I could let it all out.

I eventually find Thornhill and hand her the paperwork, she thanks me, and I leave the library. The hall is scattered with students, I feel an arm wrap around me, I look up towards the direction to find Xavier. "Hey there," he smirks at me, I give him a light smile in return, he furrows his eyebrows at me.

"Hey, are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"

"I've got to get to class."

I move his arm from my shoulder and walk off to my next class, I hate to leave him like that but I'm just not in the mood right now, if Bianca and her friends are telling the truth I'm just a random rebound he asked out on a date out of pity.

Thank God Enid is in this class, I could really use her right now.

"Hey! Oof, you look rough." She informs me.

I look at her, "Yeah, I overheard Bianca and her friends talking crap about me and Xavier in the library this morning and I can't help but think that they're right."

"Oh my God? What did they say?"

"Just saying how I'm just his rebound to get over Biance and that I'm trying too hard, etc."

Enid just looked at me in shock, she opened her mouth to say something, but the teacher started talking so she shut her mouth. I wonder if she agrees, what if everyone agrees?

It's hard to pay attention when my mind has drifted so far away, I feel like I should talk to him but at the same time I don't want to see him, not because I'm mad, just because I'm ashamed, scratch that.

He's ashamed of me.

"Okay, that wraps everything up, everyone remember to read chapter 10 of your books and go over your notes for the test tomorrow!"

The bell rings, I feel like it's been an eternity since I have entered this class. I walk out before Enid can catch up to me, I don't think I have ever felt this zoned out. Praise the Gods this is my free period, I go out to the center courtyard and sit at one of the benches. I don't even pull out my book, I just sit there staring at the grass in silence.

I hear footsteps walking towards the area thinking it's just a teacher,

"How pathetic."

I look up to find Bianca, wonderful. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm running an errand for Thornhill, but it can wait. What's your damage, how dare you corrupt him like that?

"What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, well, who. You need to stop being Xaviers little 'partner.'" She puts the last part in air quotes.

I just look up at her without saying anything, she adds to her last sentence, "He's only with you because he was so terribly in love with me that he needed something to distract him after we broke up, and it looks like he went with a pet."

I continue to stay silent, the more she talks the more I'm convinced she's right. I began to get up from the bench and walk towards my next class earlier than usual, she grabs my arm, "Where do you think you're going?" She pulls my back so are faces are inches apart and brings her hand to my throat. How did I get here? Why did I go on that date with him?

"Hey!"

Someone shouts before her grip can get any tighter, I look around with squinted eyes then start gasping for air as she lets go. She backs away, "What the hell Bianca?"

It's Xavier.

"Someone had to do it, they had it coming, they've brainwashed you Xavier, you're the crazy one."

He just looks at her, he grabs onto my torso to help walk me to his dorm, once we finally reach the dorm room I start to cry all the tears that have been pent up since this morning.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay, you're fine." He brings his hand up to my face, I grab his hand and take it off of my cheek and walk over to his bed. Xavier gives me a confused look and sits next to me on the bed, "What's wrong with you? You've been acting like this all day."

I didn't want to talk about it, or let him see me for that matter, but it was now or never. "Are you ashamed of me?"

He gives me a blank stare, "What? Of course not, what would make you think that?"

"I overheard Bianca and her friends talking about how you only asked me out because you needed a rebound and you felt bad for me."

He chuckles and moves a piece of hair out of my eye, "I think we've learned not to trust Bianca; I didn't ask you out to get over her, I asked you out because I think you are an amazing person and pretty at that."

I smile at him and give him a small kiss, he pulls me in for a hug as i lean into his touch,

Sorry if this is a lil short

I finally feel complete again.

[bluue-god]

✰TWSTSONA SHEET✰

Time has come for me to show here my twisted wonderland Sona!

More down if you're curious!

Let's start by addressing the elephant in the room:

This is my self insert of course. So the story goes as you would've pretty much expected.

Isekai student got into another world and yada yada.

Here I'll make a general rundown of interesting things about 'em!

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍ ❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

Who is G?

G is definitely human. Got introduced by Crowley as the 'boy' that ran away before the ceremony. G is, of course, not the real name of this "boy", but he doesn't really mind so he rolls with it. He remembers little to nothing about the cause of this random teleportation into Twisted Wonderland, he only remembers that he hit something and blanked out for a while before hearing Grim trying to steal his clothes. He remembers his full name (G is just the initial), remembers where he came from, but he doesn't remember how old he is, almost if he just stopped aging once he got into Twisted Wonderland.

Why the Diasomnia jacket?

He actually always stayed at the Ramshackle and for a while he actually had to wear the (oversized) uniform of that dorm. He didn't like it but hey, he can't do much about it.

After all the events of books 1 and 2, a character started to approach G more and that character was Lilia Vanrouge. G was kinda skeptical about this random dude hanging over him and following him all around the campus, but eventually he just gave up and started to become closer to Lilia.

Between the events of book 3 Lilia confessed that the reason that he was following G was because he believes that it's a "signal from the stars". He said that he dreamed about holding out his hand into the void in front of him and someone grabbed it and he was definitely sure that it was G. (Compared to the opening scene of the game.)

That's when Lilia started to drag G into Diasomnia, introducing him to everyone there and evening lending him the typical green Diasomnia gilet and since at that point G was getting attacked by this strange dude, he just accepted to become a non official member of the dorm.

Facts!🔍

Not really a fact but a statement. G's favourite colour is blue.

He seems to have some correlation with water as an element but he's still magicless so no one really cares.

Love language? Violence. Not the best way to show it but doesn't know how his emotions work.

Like Lilia, he cuts and dyes his own hair.

Actually pretty decent in PE.

After Lilia, Trein is the other father figure he has in school. He never told him that because he would never but one time he called him "dad" in front of the class.

He doesn't actually stay in one class or grade like the others. He decides what lessons to follow based on his level in that subject or based on who there's in that class. (Ex. He follows the 3° grade lessons both because of Lilia and because he's good in history, while he follows lower grades for subjects like alchemy or mathematics because he knows he sucks in those.)

He can play various instruments if you ask him. Mostly the trumpet and the guitar, but he can sing too. The only instrument that cannot play that confidently is the piano.

If you ask him for his age he just zones out and says "I don't know..." Before staring into the void for a couple of seconds.

He's very agile and can dance but never told anyone. The only ones that know are Jamil and Floyd because G dances with them.

G can cook. And clean. Often he would find something to clean to have an excuse to stay at home.

He absolutely HATES if you talk to him if he has his headphones on. NEVER do that. If he wants to talk to you, he will take his headphones off himself.

For a couple of weeks he even worked at the Mostro Lounge.

He can understand Spanish, Italian and English (duh) but can only speak two of those languages. Never going to tell which ones :)

He can and WILL fight if threatened.

He is black cat coded.

He uses nicknames like Floyd and Rook. Only not as often as those two.

Relationships! 🤝🏻

🦇 Lilia Vanrouge 🦇

There is no doubt that Lilia is the person with whom G is most familiar. In no time their relationship grew quickly giving Lilia ANOTHER CHILD.

Their relationship is the purest form of Platonism that you could imagine. Definitely found family.

G already had some issues home with his parents and family at home and now sees everyone in Diasomnia as his new family. Sometimes you can catch him calling Lilia "dad".

Most important, Lilia knows a secret that G always keeps hidden. And sees G being biologically a girl. G always asks Lilia if it's ok for him and Lilia just replies with "I always wanted a daughter!" (Even if G is actually Agender, he uses all pronouns so he doesn't really care if Lilia calls him "his daughter". On the contrary. He BAWLS HIS EYES OUT.)

Also! Lilia dragged G into the Pop music club since he caught him singing to himself or casually tuning in Lilia's bass. Lilia did this without knowing that G actually has 6+ years of music education on his back (he was in a music based highschool before getting isekaied into twisted wonderland.) so that sees that poor dude to deal with the chaotic rehearsals that the band does. He had to basically coordinate and tune everyone there. He's not an official member of the club since he's one of the two founders of a new magicless art club so he's technically already in a club, but hey, if his father wants him there... Who's he to deny it?

Ah yeah. G often cooks for everyone in Diasomnia if Lilia offers himself to make dinner.

Old art of father and son together :3 (G changed hairstyles after three months of his stay in twisted wonderland.)

🍩 Ruggie Bucchi 🍩

Now. Here we enter a very chaotic duo.

Everything started after the events of book 1.

First meeting (just a stare) : after stepping on Leona's tail in book 1.

Ruggie saw G when he was walking away. After stepping on Leona's tail, G just kinda avoids the whole Savanaclaw, he just doesn't like Leona's attitude. That until the events of book 2. They have their first "chat" when Ruggie stole Grim's lunch, but nothing much. Ruggie just saw G as trouble and G at that point hated the whole Pack mentality of the Savanaclaw dorm.

Their first interaction ever was during Leona's overbolt when he threw Ruggie away. G at that point disliked Ruggie but his hatred towards Leona was bigger than that so he helped Ruggie.

Convos:

🌊: HEY THAT'S FUCKING UNFAIR!

🍩: Uh-?

🌊: THIS DUDE MIGHT BE A TOTAL DOUCHEBAG BUT THAT'S TOO MUCH.

🍩: Ah here. It seemed strange.

[G came out very strongly at the start of this adventure. I mean, can you blame him? He got yeeted away from his home to get into a new world full of furries and idk queers. So he was, rightfully so, a bit pissed at everyone.]

[this convo happened during the overbolt too.]

🍩: why are you doing this...? Ur trying too hard.

🌊: I said that you're an asshole, that's true. But you don't deserve this. Just because he's unhappy with his life, he shouldn't put all his anger on you.

🍩: . . . Zaaaamn....

🍩: wa- wait- you're... You're helping me because... Just because-?

🌊: bro stop talking before I make you.

🍩: zaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAaa- *COUGHS HIS LIFE OUT*

🌊: you're literally DYING. STOP THAT. I won't have your lifeless body in my arms!

🍩: g- uh?? Th- then stop that-! It's weird.

🌊: you're lucky that I have a moral that I follow, if not you'll be Cat litter now.

🍩: . . . I'll shut up-

🌊: thank you so much, very much appreciated fella.

🍩: . . . . It's Ruggie

🌊: G.

🍩: G-? Just that? Nothing else??

🌊: YOU'RE FUCKING DYING. DO YOU THINK IT'S THE TIME TO DO NAMESHAMING?!

🍩: Nam- oooh you're the fun one... All the effort was put into your humor and not into your name, I see...

🌊:

🌊: Imma let go now.

🍩: I WAS JOKIN-

Overall, Ruggie started to look after G more and that got worse after G helped Ruggie after he fell of his broom while being an idiot.

The first that realised that something was off was Leona and told Ruggie whom entered a long ass state of denial that eventually got EVEN WORSE that during winter break he kinda fucked up (In his opinion) and just avoided G for a whole month untill G HAD to solve the situation. Then they got close again, just messing around and having fun. Until, on Ruggie's birthday, things got way more serious and now you can say that they're in a queer platonic relationship. Ruggie calls G his boyfriend and G doesn't really mind.

There you go. Gruggie summary ig.

🦈 Floyd Leech 🦈

To make it very easy and short, Floyd basically adopted G. As in, Floyd didn't give any chance to G to escape him. After book 3 he got extremely curious about this random blue haired boy and a specific hyena boy SO he just went for it and started to annoy G.

And after some work, now they're besties :3

Floyd and G now go around the school to literally TERRIFY THE WHOLE SCHOOL. They have fun skipping class, unless it's history of magic, then G will definitely not skip.

🍎 Epel Felmier 🍎

Random, I know, but the way they met is literally G climbing up a window from a room where Epel was singing due to Vil request. And that's how they met!!

Epel was extremely skeptical about G at first because he thought that he was interested in him just for his look, which he hates. But after a while he realised that it wasn't the case and G is just random sometimes.

They started to bond way more after G confessed to Epel that he was a girl in hope to make him realise that there are no "girl activities" or vice versa. Epel started to respect G way more after that. Now they're besties and G has the typical bigger sibling attitude towards Epel, even if against his will. :3

G loves teasing everyone. Friends and not.

♠️ Deuce spade ♠️

They have known each other since the start of the year. Overall, Deuce is like Epel. There's mutual respect and Deuce is one of the few people that G doesn't insult because he could probably believe it. G cares a lot about Deuce and Deuce looks after G a lot.

Sometimes Deuce looks like a puppy to G.

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍ ❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

If you're reading this, hi!

Lemme know what you think.😺

Bye for now 🌊

[my-own-walker]

Hi. Im a big fan of your blog so i was wondering if you are taking requests and if so, could you do one with jpm addams family style where hey send their daughter to a special school for almost killing another student. Also sorry to bother.

Where’d All The Time Go?

note: please NEVER be sorry for bothering me. you are never bothering me even in the slightest!!

warnings: mentions of violence, dad!jpm (stepping way out of my comfort zone lol), in my version of this universe, yes, JPM is dead but somehow was able to conceive a child with a not-dead reader, reader is now dead (somehow) and lives immortally with JPM, the child is mortal.

+++

September, 1962

'Darling?' James called from across the suite.

'Yes, dear?' I replied, reading in the front room.

'Jane's school is on the phone, would you be a dear and talk to them? I was in the middle of something...' he trailed off.

Knowing he was likely in the midst of dismembering one of the hotel waitstaff who has misbehaved at his party last night, I sighed and stood.

'Coming!' I called, smoothing the front of my black housedress, its high-neck collar sitting perfectly on my collarbones. I ashed my cigarette before rushing hastily into the bedroom. James sat perched in the velvet bedside chair, running his fingers over his mustache.

He stood upon my entrance, walking to me and giving me a kiss on the cheek and a squeeze on the rear. I had guessed right. His hair was tousled and his brow was sheen with sweat. He sported only his thin white collared shirt and suspenders. James had obviously been...working.

'I heard the phone from my study, I've no idea what they're calling about,' he briefed me, before retreating back into his private room.

I ran my hands over my chin-length bob and took another drag of my cigarette. I brought the receiver to my ear and spoke.

'Hello, March residence. Y/N March speaking,' I smiled.

'Ah, yes, Mrs. March,' the female voice on the other line replied in an unreadable tone. 'I'm calling from your daughter's school.'

'Yes?' I said, growing impatient. 'What is it?'

'Jane is, well, she needs to be picked up,' the woman stuttered. 'There was an incident and we need a guardian to come to the school as soon as possible.'

'My, i-is she injured?' I asked. 'I- can be there in about ten minutes, i-is that okay?'

'No, Mrs. March, Jane is quite fine,' the female voice clarified. 'I can explain more once you get here.'

I placed the phone back on the hook and hurried over to the bookshelf, pulling out a copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray, and triggering the hidden door to open.

'James!' I called. 'We need someone to go to Jane's school.'

'Just a moment, dear!' he shouted back. 'I'm just about finished.' Quick footsteps came down the hall toward me, followed by James' handsome face.

'Jane's school would like someone to pick her up, they haven't told me an ounce of what's wrong,' I explained, concern in my voice. 'I told them I would come but, obviously, I can't.'

'That's quite alright, my beautiful songbird,' he cooed, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. 'I am sure she's fine. I will send Miss Hanson.'

Miss Hanson was the receptionist at the Hotel Cortez. She was 'me' when I couldn't be 'me.' I knew he had made a vital mistake in not homeschooling Jane. Or in not sending her to James' choice of school. It was only her first day of Kindergarten and there was already an issue.

About an hour later, Miss Hanson walked through the door with Jane in tow. Her head hung low as she crossed the lobby toward James and I. Her little black dress looked so cute paired with her matching stockings and Mary-Jane slippers. The frown on her face was a stark contrast to the cute pigtails I'd put in her soft black hair that morning. The ribbons I'd tied to the ends were gone.

'Oh, my sweet,' I exclaimed, stooping down to her level. 'My sweet rose.' Jane's little legs carried her into my outstretched arms. She crashed into me with all of the force in her tiny body.

James crouched down to meet the familial embrace. 'Whatever is the matter, dear one?' Miss Hanson cleared her throat uncomfortably. James stood to speak with her.

'Jane got into quite some...trouble...today,' the girl started. 'Jane, would you care to tell your Mama and Papa what happened?'

Jane poked her head up from my hug and rubbed her eyes with her tiny fist. 'Eddie stole my Creepy Crawler,' she mumbled.

'What was that, young lady? Speak up,' James demanded.

'E-Eddie stole m-my Creepy Crawler, my bat. S-so I...I,' Jane struggled. We had just bought her a set of toys called 'Creepy Crawlers.' They were plastic bugs, insects, basically any animal considered 'gross.' She took a liking to the plastic bat immediately.

'She punched little Eddie and pinned him to the ground. She strangled him, Mr. and Mrs. March,' Miss Hanson cut in. 'Until he was blue in the face. The teacher noticed before the poor boy was dead, but the school doesn't want her back.'

I looked over at James and saw the brightest light behind his eyes. A small smirk was on his lips. He was right, and he knew it.

+

'Now, Jane,' James began. 'We knew you wouldn't be like the other kids. From the moment you were born, I saw something in you. My, where'd all the time go?' He paced back and forth in the front of the room, Jane and I sitting as a captive audience to his grand monologue. The one he'd prepared years ago when the discussion of school first came up.

I ashed my cigarette on the ashtray on the coffee table and took a drag. I couldn't help but laugh under my breath at him.

'You are a special little girl. You have the power to see what others cannot,' he continued. 'You can weed out bad from good. You know who to eliminate from this existence. You can see who is utterly useless scum, and you have the power to get rid of them.'

'What Papa is trying to say, dear, is that you're too smart for regular school,' I smiled, patting her head with my free hand.

'Your mother is right. That school was no good,' James smiled.

'So, I'm not in trouble?' Jane asked in a little voice.

'Nonsense, dear one. Quite the opposite. You've found your calling,' he explained. 'So we'd like to send you to a different school. One a bit further away. One where you can truly learn the art of murder.'

'It's a sleepaway school, Jane,' I clarified. 'So, you'll have to go away for a while. But, you won't miss us a bit. It will be so much more fun for you.'

Jane took in the information and nodded. I wasn't sure that she fully understood what we meant, but it was for the best. She wasn't like other kids, and this was the fairest option for her.

+

James and I saw her and Miss Hanson off that afternoon. We knew we were sending her somewhere safe for kids like her.

When we arrived back at the suite, James grabbed me by the waist and spun me to face him. He pulled me in close and kissed me passionately.

'We've raised our little girl perfectly,' he interrupted, entirely too pleased with himself. 'I only wish we could make another.'

'And I'm entirely too glad we can't,' I chuckled. James swept me off the ground and carried me to the bedroom, slamming the door shut demonstratively behind him.

+++

This was a bit less about the kid (like in Wednesday) and a bit more about the parent's side of things haha. Hope you like it!

[misschanadlerbong]

Chapter 13 pt.2 - Fuck Patriarchy

Summary: Graduation ceremony and saying goodbyes.

Warning: Violence and swear words.

Word Count: 1.7k

< Previous

Finally, graduation day arrived, and graduation became more important when students voted you as the valedictorian. You wanted to give a perfect speech that would provoke a feeling of enthusiasm and motivation in the audience. There was just one thing that you were not allowed to say, Principal told you explicitly to not use any offending words. So, you spent days preparing for the speech which gave you an excuse to not talk about the fight Clay and you had on the night of Prom.

The fight could have led to the breakup but not if you do not talk about it. All you both did was pretend as if nothing happened and figure things out on your own. It created a distance between both of you, but you were still officially together.

You reached school with Tony, and Jessica, and met Charlie and Alex at the school gate. Justin and Clay were going to come together. Everyone stood in the hallway talking about how they will miss everyone and what they are pursuing after they graduate.

“I am going to miss you a lot, Alex.” Said Charlie holding his hand.

Alex pecked his lips and said, “I am going to miss you too Charles. But we have all summer, and you are graduating next year you can come to my college, and we can have a lot of fun together.”

Suddenly a boy came behind Alex and wrapped his hand around his shoulder. “Aww aren’t you guys the sweetest?” he mocked.

Alex threw his hand off his shoulder pushing him and yelled “Fuck off, Monty!”

“Fuck you, Alex! You fucking faggot!” growled Monty.

“No, Monty you’re not man enough.”

Everybody was shocked at Alex’s reply and started clapping at his sassiness. But Monty became furious and took a step toward Alex intending to hit him. You came in between and drove him off by your hand.

“Back off Monty.” You demanded.

Monty smirked and said, “At least now I know what your hand feels like against my chest,” you removed your hand from his chest with disgust on your face. Before you knew Clay came from behind and punched Monty in the face and howled “That’s my girlfriend you are talking about dick.”

You never saw Clay this angry before. You were supposed to worry but instead, a smile took over your face seeing your protective boyfriend. Monty started to retaliate and with him, his other friends also joined the fight. You came out of the battle zone and leaned beside a locker to watch. Jessica asked, “Aren’t we supposed to stop them?”

“No, if we go in there, we will end up getting hurt and I don’t think they are going to stop. You know what they say, never break up a dog’s fight.” You suggested.

“You have a point.” Jessica agreed.

The students were divided into two groups on one side it was Clay, Tony, Alex, Justin, Charlie and Monty, Scott, Bryce, Diego, and Luke on the other. Clay took it up with Bryce. All these days when he wanted to beat the shit out of him, he finally got the chance. “How…dare you… touch my…girlfriend” yelled Clay in intervals while pushing him with force.

Unfortunately, Clay was not strong enough to fight him all by himself and ended up getting punched by Bryce in his eye. Out of nowhere Zach came in between and pushed Bryce against the locker throwing limitless punches at him.

“You ruined my fucking life” howled Zach.

“All this because you didn’t get to fuck Y/N? Because I got to her while she was still dating you? Huh, Dempsey? She didn’t fuck you because you are a fucking pussy ass bitch.” Teased Bryce.

Zach got more furious and punched Bryce harder this time leading his nose to bleed. “Yeah, right. At least I didn’t get punched by Y/N like you did multiple times. And for the record, you couldn’t fuck her either.” Said Zach returning the favor.

Before the fight could escalate more Principal Bolan and the school counselor came in between to stop the fight and shouted “Stop it, everybody! It is a good thing you cannot get suspended now. Proceed to the ground for your graduation ceremony, everyone now!”

Everyone stopped and started walking towards the school ground for the ceremony. All it took was just one intense argument to release all the stored anger these boys. Clay walked towards you stretching out his hand for you to hold it.

“That was fucking impressive Jensen.”

“Thank you!” Clay chuckled lightly.

“You know you are gonna have a blue eye tomorrow, right?” you raised your eyebrow.

“Would you love me less if I did have a blue eye?” asked Clay.

“Eh, well…” you teased him and shrugged while chuckling.

You all assembled on the school ground. The ground was sunbathed with malachite green and bright yellow color, and the audience stand was decorated with the school’s official blue color. You all put on your blue gowns and caps and settled yourselves into the arranged seats in front of the stage. Above the stage hung a huge blue banner that said, ‘Congratulations Liberty High Class of 2023’.

The ceremony started with the principal’s welcome speech and then everybody was called up on the stage one by one to receive the graduation certificate. After the certificate distribution, Jessica as the Class president was asked to give a speech. Her speech was eloquent, engaging, and confident and had a spark of feminism in it.

After the class President, it was the valedictorian’s turn to enlighten the audience with her words. Hence, you climbed up on the stage to the podium and adjusted the mic according to your height.

“I came to this school with a lot of aspirations and hopes. Switching to this school has been a meaningful change in my life, I learned a lot during my time here. I made new friends, met new people, found love, and made new enemies,” you paused as the audience laughed at your ‘enemies’ point. “Halfway through the year, I thought I will not be able to survive this high school phase. It’s so hard to wake up every morning not knowing what challenge you will face today in school; would you get good grades? Would you be able to keep up with the trends? Would you be able to satisfy your parents? Will your friends remain your friends? High school is hard to survive but I am living proof, we all are. We survived high school. Struggling through all the challenges breaks us into pieces but we must pick up those pieces and create a new you, the unbreakable you. I wish you guys all the best for your life ahead…And yes as our president said, ‘fuck the patriarchy’.”

Hearing those last words your principal frowned and sighed and was forced to clap. The audience burst into a round of applause and a few parents including your parents even gave you a standing ovation. To mark the end of the ceremony everybody threw their caps in the sky. The sky got filled with blue caps flying into the air. The view was spectacular.

You climbed down the stage to meet the gang and Jessica came from behind announcing “We survived high school ya’ll bring it in.”

“Nah I don’t do hugs.” Said, Clay.

“Oh, come on Nerd, don’t throw tantrums.” You said dragging him into the group hug.

Clay wanted to talk to you about something so after having coffee at the Monéts with everybody you both climbed up to the cliff to enjoy the beautiful sunset whilst talking.

The view from the cliff was magnificent the evening sun cast long mysterious shadows on the ground. The setting sun's slanting rays gave the sky an orange tinge. The cliff was Clay’s special spot, whenever he felt sad or felt a need to be alone, he came here. You have been with Clay a couple of times to just enjoy the sweet air against your skin and cuddle up on the wintery nights.

You put your head on Clay’s shoulders and said, “Hey Clay, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“I wanted to say something too about the fight we had, I guess we should talk.” Said Clay with a concerned tone in his voice.

“Okay, you go first.” You said sitting up straight and making eye contact with him.

“I am so sorry for storming off that night. I got too angry and feared I might say something that could have hurt you. So, I am sorry for that. But the thought of losing you was unbearable, and I thought about it. I think you can love people and still let them go. So, Y/N I love you, and I let you go, go live your dream. And you know if we happen to meet after a few years and are still single then maybe we can find a way back to each other.”

“Aww Clay, do you want me to cry? You are such a drama queen.”

“You wanted to say something?” inquired Clay.

“Yes, a couple of days earlier I received a mail from Stanford University, and guess what? I got in. So, I am sorry Clay Jensen you are stuck with me for a little longer here in California as I decided to go there.” You said with a cheery voice.

“But what about your dream college?” asked Clay.

“Clay, I did a little reflecting and realized that you are the best thing that has happened to me this year and someone told me that if you love someone hold onto them. Do not ever let go of them. Clay, you made me happy, if it were not for you, I don’t think I could have gotten any better after all things I have been through. So, I am never letting you go. And for the record, your mother offered me the summer internship, so I will be assisting her in her legal clinic.”

Clay’s piercing blue eyes started shining and a grin took over his pretty face adding a blush to his cheeks. You leaned in and planted a sweet kiss on his lips.

“Ouch” cried, Clay.

“Oops,” you said realizing the cut he had on his lips due to the fight. You rested your forehead against him and then hugged him while the sun set down on the horizon.

THE END.

A/N: I want to thank you all for reading this book and giving it so much love. I hope you all enjoyed it and it was worth the read, thank you so much, I love you all.

Shower your love by liking and commenting on the post. Refrain from copying, plagiarism, or posting on any other platform.

THANK YOU!!!

P.S.: I also upload on Wattpad @immafreakingmoonstone, feel free to check out my account :)

[dovithedarklord]

Age of Monsters - Chapter Six

Pairing: OFC x Simon "Ghost" Riley, OFC x König

Tags: Slow Burn, Slow Build, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, POV First Person, Not Beta Read, Medical Inaccuracies, Military Inaccuracies, AFAB OC

Trigger Warning: The story will contain violance, blood and smut in detail. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

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Author's Note

Leona has a nice adventure in the forest.

Hello!

This chapter has a Trigger Warning! There will be blood, violence, gore, and aggression, so please read accordingly! I know it's in the tags, but I'd rather write it down here too.

Have fun! :D

I.M.L. - Infected mammalian lifeform

if you're interested you can find the story on AO3: Chapter Six

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I wipe the drops of sweat forming on my hairline with the back of my hand, and I find it quite surprising that, despite the fact that most of the sun's rays are captured by the foliage of the trees, a clammy warmth sits in the air. Although every elementary school student learns about what a forest is like, what cute little animals lived in it back then, and how it was a home of undisturbed peace, nothing prepared me for how stressful the desolate quietness that settles in it actually is. It's been hours since I set off after my pleasant parting and goodbyes with Riley, and since I haven't encountered a death trap or a bloodthirsty monster panting at my heels just yet, I've had just enough time to think about what led up to my current uninterrupted wandering. Apart from the obvious facts.

And during this time, I’ve run through the long thread of my memories that have been created since I drifted into the unit. The fresh forest air seems to have pushed my brain to the brink of enlightenment, because I slowly began to realize why all of a certain Hunter's verbal attacks had found their target so far. I've had to think a lot about why it irritates me so much that he says the thoughts in my head out loud, other than it makes me feel like I'm not nearly as mysterious as I'd like to seem. And I came to quite surprising conclusions on my little health walk. Now I know what was bothering me until now, and what made me continue to provoke him even though I knew sooner or later his patience would reach its end, and he would show what he could do with those hands. The cold contempt that emanates from him evokes the visceral anger in me that I have successfully suppressed with my pride and arrogance. I never accepted people's one-sided and foolish attempts to anger me, and never allowed my perfect mask to crack and reveal my true thoughts, motivations, and self to others. But for some reason, this man cuts through the walls built over the years like a sharp knife, and every single cold look and disparaging comment is another punch to my stomach. And I know that what makes him different from the bastards who tried me countless times in my life is that I know my repertoire is not nearly enough to challenge him. A seductive smile, a witty remark, or clever manipulation won't be effective enough for him. And this encourages me to be much meaner and take our little game seriously. Because I want to prove to him that he is not better than me. No matter how much he despises me, no matter how he takes on this rigid persona, he is no different than me. He's just as cowardly, vindictive, and petty as I am, so he has no reason to look down on me from his high horse. It urges me to show him that he cannot trample or intimidate me, or chase me away. And nothing verifies my theory more than the fact that he brought me to the very edge of the yellow zone so he could reveal with a survival test, that he is capable of playing dirty to prove his point and to break me, with just as much eagerness as I have tried to sink my little teeth into him and find his weakness until now.

And I'm not so conceited and stupid to not know, that his dislike and doubts about me are not unfounded, and from his point of view it was probably a completely logical decision to take me on this excursion. In addition to the fact that he wants to demonstrate his considerable advantage over me, he also wants to show me that he is not afraid to make tough decisions if it serves the interests of his team. And there is nothing wrong with that, because if I were him, I would also try to get rid of that foul and rather dangerous element who only dropped into his little unit to cause trouble. He probably also considered how much of a disadvantage it would be, if my nifty little ability disappeared following my death, and even after this dilemma he thought it was better to carry out his plan. Because this whole situation can only benefit him. If I die or maybe take flight, then he won't have to endure my constant provocation, my behavior, or my little trick to try to get under his skin every given moment we spend together. Worst case scenario, they will just consume a couple more Healers. If I pass the test, he still expects me to understand the essence of the lesson given to me and finally learn to get in line and do my job without a fucking word.

And in light of this, I might as well just give up. After all, the most obvious decision for me would be to take myself and my little package and head towards the nearest colony. And if karma were to forgive me and I was lucky, I would probably find a group of traders along the way who would take pity on me for a leisurely ride, and voila, I made it. But there is something deep in my subconscious that does not allow me to play with this seemingly realistic plan. Because, when even for a minute it occurs to me to leave behind this sadistic brute and his nice little team, my stomach jumps with an unpleasant tug and the stubborn desire to prove myself is revived. And this pants the thought in the depths of my head, that giving up the adventure is not an option, because that would only confirm what Riley believes. That I am a criminal who continues her spineless hiding from duty and fate, which I have perfected throughout my life. And I don't understand why this would be a problem, since it is the truth. Although of course, I do not agree that I am a coward, but rather opportunistic and selfish, however there is no lie when it comes to the hiding part. And nothing would be simpler than returning to my old habits and continuing my peaceful life, free from monsters, Hunters, and Healer obligations.

Still, I have a motivation that definitely drives me forward, and I have only one goal in mind: to get out of the forest. My burning anger and stubborn resistance to the man might even explain why I want to pass the test so fervently, but it wouldn't be enough of a motive to override my selfishness. Because I have enough sense to choose my priority goals instead of my temper. My highly suicidal idea of escaping is also not entirely to be dismissed, because as a good girl, I would solve it so that I don't end up as monster food until the next safe place. That's why I don't understand what's holding me back from grabbing my belongings and dragging myself as far as humanly possible. I can't fathom what gives me that desperate, hardened determination that drives me forward like a complete idiot. Because it belies my nature not to choose myself.

I fish out the communicator from my pocket with growing irritation, to divert my attention from the sea of thoughts fighting in my head, and I pop up the map of the forest with a few button presses. And as my modest self appears on the hologram with a flashing red dot, I quickly assess how far the safe house can be. The little icon blinks about ten kilometers from me, and at this point, I start to worry about the realization that although my pace is not terrible at all, and I can maybe actually complete this insane mission, still I haven't managed to find a single trap in the last few kilometers. I've been in the thick of the wilderness long enough to know that it would be too tame for a Hunter training site if I didn't encounter any difficulties other than mosquitoes and the ever-increasing heat. And Riley wouldn't have brought me here if he didn't expect me to have to work for survival.

The sun is already high in the sky, and although I still have plenty of time to comfortably force myself through this goddamn jungle, the instinctive tightening that is slowly taking space in my stomach suggests, that this all seems far too easy to not take a turn to the worst in an instant. And I have an inkling that this bad foreshadowing feeling that has just appeared will attract trouble to me like a magnet. That is why I decide not to wait until negative thoughts direct the problems towards me, and continue on my cautious path.

Slipping my communicator back into the protective depths of the pocket on my thigh, I prepare myself to leave, to continue my walk in the direction I had previously located. The twigs and leaves crunching under my boots provide the only background noise for my journey, and instead of easing the anxiety raging in me, it encourages me to examine every square centimeter of the wilderness around me with even greater care. I could be thankful for the fact, that my depressing attention to detail finally diverted my attention from my musings on the motivation to complete the test, but it does not cause me joy that a much more burning and life-threatening paranoia has now taken the place of thoughts analyzing my relationship with the Hunters. And suddenly I start to miss the feeling I experienced during the regeneration, because then finally, if only for a short time, the thoughts that were constantly buzzing in my head disappeared.

And with that, my train of thought jumped back to the starting point again, and I only reward the cunning maneuver of my brain circuits with a rather frustrated sigh. Because it doesn't seem to be able to let go of the bizarre situation I'm in right now. I should flee, I should escape, I should cut and run, but no matter if I say it in a hundred different ways, it doesn't make any sense that I'm still moving toward the fucking finish line. I could try to drift as far away as possible from the whole complicated and unreasonably adventurous life situation I've fallen into in the last month and a half, but I won't. And the voice in the back of my skull keeps whispering in my ear that I can’t fail, because causing disappointment is not an option. But why? Wouldn't everyone's lives be easier if I disappeared? Sure, obviously Laswell and Price would be pretty annoyed at losing an investment that wasn't even close to paying off, but what else? Would it change anything if I didn't return to base?

And the thought that my death or disappearance would not leave any lasting mark on the life of Unit 141 somehow brings back a bitter taste to my tongue. I, too, am surprised by the force with which my chest tightens as the faces of MacTavish and Garrick flash before me, as the fanboy role they played with me is revived with someone else, after I have long since faded into the shadows of the past. Price, too, will continue to play a father figure to his students and toss his wisdom-wrapped praises to others, and he will not waste a single brain cell to maintain my memory. And the possibility that all of this could happen forms a lump in my throat, that threatens to burst out at any minute, and this feeling has been visiting me all too often lately.

And unwillingly, the idyllic moment spent in the gym appears before my mind's eye, and the words that the Hunters spoke at that time echo in my ears more sharply than anything else. I thought a lot about how seriously I could take their little confession, and although I came to the conclusion that I have to treat the whole discourse with skepticism, for some reason, now I want their words to be true more than anything. And for the first time, it enters my head that maybe this has something to do with the fact, that every part of me is protesting with vehement disgust against the idea of running away or failing.

But before I could dig deeper into what I want to say to myself with this, a soft, yet completely different click from the noise of the forest that I have experienced so far hits my ears. And I immediately know why the voice sounds so suspicious, because a can-like object suddenly emerges from the ground, which almost instantly presents me with its contents. Thick smoke is released around me with a speed that in all likelihood defies the laws of physics, and I am suddenly unable to move even a muscle out of shock. My eyes begin to burn excruciatingly almost right away as the first suffocating clouds of smoke reach me, and I instinctively close them, but it's too late, because the stinging pain brings tears to my eyes. Everything becomes blurry in front of me in an instant, as the mixture of smoke and increasing tears fills my vision, and when the pleasant surprise of the first trap I found in the forest reaches my lungs, in the middle of a coughing fit, I try to pull myself together and flee somewhere to escape from the fog of toxic fumes around me. No matter how much I pull my turtleneck up to my nose, it doesn't calm the stomach acid pooling in my throat, which, as a result of my very enthusiastic suffocation, is about to make its way to the outside world after flaying the top layer of my esophagus. And then I know that I didn't push the sinister feeling far enough, and finally, the traps I've been missing so fervently have made their appearance.

Ignoring the stinging pain in my eyes and throat, I stumble forward, and after a few excruciating seconds, I start running, because the reflex of flight that awakens in me works much faster and more efficiently than logic. And soon the decision that it is a good idea to continue walking blindly revenges itself, because my ankle gets stuck in something in the next few meters. It doesn't take much intelligence to grasp that I met a rope with one of my pretty legs, and when something on the tree sprawling in front of me snaps with a cracking sound, I don't even have the time to register what's happening. The thing whizzes over my head at an amazing speed, and I can only thank my modest height that the unexpected attack only brushed my ponytail and didn't help my head to degrade into a smashed melon. But with the unstoppable tears coming from my eyes, I don't have a chance to defend myself against the next surprise coming my way, and I immediately feel what it was that I narrowly avoided before. All of a sudden, all the air is forced out of me, as the rod freed from the trap meets my chest with brutal force, and I fall back on the damp ground, staggered by the force of the impact. I don't even notice how loudly my head hits the hardened layer of mud on the ground, because the pain shooting across my ribs cuts through my body as if a tank had rammed into me. For a minute, I'm unable to breathe because of the ache, which pulsates with persistent force, immobilizing all my limbs, and then I begin to gape silently with the elegance of a fish, hoping that the stupor caused by the agony will soon subside and I won't accidentally suffocate from shock.

Tiny colored spots float into my field of vision, and it takes me a moment to understand that I've probably acquired a very nice potential concussion in addition to the broken ribs. And minutes pass until the nausea finally somewhat lessens, and I am able to wriggle myself into a fetal position with slow and clumsy movements. My disoriented mind tries to understand the series of previous events, but the throbbing ache spreading through my body does not let my mind clear itself. That's why the movement is reflexive, with which I try to soothe the consequences of the assault on me, and as one of my hands crawls under the thick material of my turtleneck and smooths over the line of my ribs, following the gentle touch of my fingers, another wave of nausea runs through me. I forcefully swallow the bursting acid, because somewhere in the depths of my mind I know that I cannot waste my chances of survival by releasing the contents of my stomach and becoming dehydrated by that. Clenching my teeth, I press my palm to the place where the rod hit, and I can almost see in front of me how my skin little by little starts to glow in angry red and purple colors. Gathering all my remaining concentration, I push the small waves of my energy under my fingers, and as the sparks pulsing desperately all over my body gather there, I let out a relieved sigh. Slowly but surely, the stinging aching under my palm subsides, as my clever little skill does its best to solder the broken bones together and heal the bruised tissues and muscles. I also send a small pulse of energy towards my skull, because the pain still dully throbs there. And as soon as the crippling suffering that kept my body immobile and my brain in a hazy confusion alleviates, I find the ability to think again.

The smoke is already beginning to clear, and as it rises into the sky between the leaves, it blocks the path of the sun's rays breaking through the leaves. The whole unfortunate situation could hardly have lasted more than a few moments, but it knocked me off my feet with cruel efficiency, and I have to admit that the garbage of a person who set up the trap knew what they were doing. If it weren't for my rather useful gift, I would almost certainly pass out and spend the afternoon here having a pleasant siesta. And although a Hunter would probably have suffered less damage than me, it would have effectively slowed them down as well. But I don't have the time or desire to let some forest booby trap get the better of me.

Groaning, I rest my hands on the ground, not caring that the pain is eating into every part of my being like a familiar friend, and then I force myself onto my knees. I helped my problem just enough so that seemingly serious injuries wouldn't hinder me from progressing on my journey, but with foresight back in my head again, no matter how much every area on my back hurts, I can't afford to waste my strength. Because now it is absolutely certain that I have run out of luck that helped me divert my path from the traps, and the misfortune is catching up with me in full force.

I clumsily fish out the small water bottle that Riley included in my scout pack from my bag, and as I snap the cap off, I touch the cold metal to my mouth and take a sizeable sip, the cool caress of the water calms my burnt throat nicely. I have to be thrifty with this too, because now it has become quite a firm conviction in my head that, confirming my first intuition, it will not be easy to get out of this goddamn forest. In one piece and relatively undamaged.

I slide my water bottle back into the bag and struggle to a standing position by holding on to one of the tree trunks with my hand. When I'm sure that my feet are stable enough, I slowly search for the communicator from my pocket to check how far I managed to drift from the target direction due to the previous complication. And as soon as the holographic map appears, even I'm surprised by how skillfully I was able to keep myself relatively close to the right path, and at least that doesn't increase the annoyance that arises in me. Because I am filled with immeasurable frustration, now that I have the opportunity to realize how primitively and stupidly I walked into the first trick that popped up in my way. I'm almost certain that if I hadn't been reflecting on how the fear of losing my relationship with the funny little Hunter team was driving me forward, I would have had the brainpower to notice that I was marching into fucking danger. Then my attention might not have been distracted so far from reality that I would have remembered to pay more attention to my surroundings, which I was sure from the beginning holds sweet little thrills for me.

It seems that my newly found anger gives me enough impetus to overcome the ache that settles in his body, and I take advantage of this momentum to set off in the right direction. I don't give myself time to dwell on my foolishness, but I turn every single one of my senses towards the forest that looks more and more suspicious in front of me. I can't allow myself to be enriched with more of these amazing experiences through some obscure invention, because the idea is taking increasingly bigger space in my mind, that the purpose of these is not only to slow someone down, but rather to eliminate the unfortunate participants in the test.

I proceed with cautious steps, almost paranoidly measuring every single branch and twig that is even slightly suspiciously placed on the ground. All my nerves are focused on the outside world around me, and now I understand why they chose a forest to perform a test of this caliber. Because if the goal is to weed out the weak links among the applicants, then I will take them to a field where it will be revealed how well they can deal with the frustration of the unknown. Those who enter here not only have to worry about whether they will survive if an obstacle crosses their path, but they also have to endure the fact, that although they know that they will surely encounter danger at some point, they can't foresee when and how. And this plants the kind of tension in the depths of one's consciousness, which slowly consumes their sanity. And Riley very cunningly thought that this would be the case with me. The bastard knew very well that it would be enough for me to come across one of the probably thousands of life-threatening small toys in the woods, and it would hinder me just enough that I would try to avoid the others by overthinking my every step. And for some reason, it gives me evil satisfaction that, if it hadn't been clear by now, he analyzed me at least as much as I dissected him.

I don't have to wander far, and my precaution is already paying off, because the slyly hidden wire swims almost imperceptibly into my field of vision, and stretched out between two tree trunks, it is waiting with open arms for me to run into it. I stop for a moment as I take in the thin line of the cord glistening with a metallic shine, and even I'm taken aback as I realize that this seemingly harmless, fine little wire could slash up its unsuspecting victim if they move towards it at the right speed. I'm starting to question more and more why anyone would feel the need to go to such hazardous lengths to test the Hunters' suitability, since it doesn't seem very expedient to want to make sliced-up salami from those whom I want to use for monster extermination. They are outnumbered compared to the number of mutants anyway, so why are they trying to butcher them before the energy and money invested in their training can pay off?

I keep my eyes on the area that stretches out in front of me because it seems too simple that this tiny little inconvenience is the only thing trying to thwart my survival. And I don't have to be disappointed, because the moment I take a closer look at the rather harmless bushes located next to the tree trunks tied together with cable, I realize that on both sides of the trap, there is a nice little package waiting, in the form of the smoke bombs I now know so well. How cunning. If someone doesn't fall for the wire, no matter which side they want to avoid this from, they will definitely walk into another trap. And I'm also absolutely sure that a surprise awaits beyond the cable if someone tries to hide under it.

It seems almost comical that the creators of the training site concentrated all their creative little creations in the middle of the forest, because it seems disturbingly clear that the goal was to distract the bastards who wandered in, and then surprise them later. And I would rather smash my head against one of the tree trunks because of the knowledge, that this tactic worked quite beautifully on me as well.

Putting aside my frustration at my own stupidity, I search for a possible gap where I can cross the area in front of me more safely, and when I see the broad trunk of a tree stretched out on the ground not far away, I decide to give it a go. I carefully move closer and comb through every small crack in search of a device of dubious origin. But when I find nothing, but ivy's tendrils winding peacefully along the grooves of the tree trunk, I'm relieved for a minute that maybe I won't be stuck here, since no fucking route seems safe enough. With quick movements, I hop on top of the wood, and for a second I carefully measure the bare site in front of me, still spying on which blade of grass is bent even in a slightly suspicious manner to hide another danger behind it. And the restlessness revives itself in me again when I can't find anything, because at this point I already expect to step into some funny little structure every second.

I jump off the log with such limber movements that belie the pain running through my body, and the branches break under my feet with a soft crunch as I hit the ground. I proceed carefully, and in the meantime, my eyes scan the bodies of the trees with the attention of a predator searching for prey, to see if fate brings me back to one of the ankle-breaking and neck-slitting traps I've seen before. It paints a deceptively gentle picture in front of me, as a warm breeze dances the leaves of the trees golden from the sunlight, but I do not fall for the apparent peace. Because the strings of my nerves that are strained to the point of breaking tell me precisely, that every fucking square centimeter holds another damn risk for me.

But despite all my awareness, despite every step taken with increased caution, and in spite of the fact that I searched every hidden nook and cranny, my ears are hit by a crack louder than any before, as a twig drifts under the sole of my boot, and I don't have the slightest chance to avoid what follows. Because two bent, metal rods swinging out of the forest floor covered with mud and weeds are closing around my left leg sooner than I have time to process it. And the pain that rushes in my body from the force of the metal pressing on my flesh through the fabric of the pants, elicits a loud cry from me. The instinctive desire to escape awakens in me, and I try to pull my legs out of the straps, but they lock around me like a vise, and with every movement they only send new waves of misery over the bruised muscles.

But, if this wasn't a disturbing enough development in the next stop of my leisurely stroll on the soft lap of nature, a sharp sound goes off out of nowhere, surpassing my panting echoing in the wildness of the forest. The whistling screams at such a deafening volume, that I freeze in fear in the midst of my attempts to escape. A sharp pain rips through my ears, and I instinctively press my hands to them and start searching for the source of the sound. My eyes jump wildly in the tangled mass of trees and vines, and it takes a few agonizing moments before I find the tiny little device attached to one of the tree trunks, from which an enthusiastically flashing red dot points at me. I follow the line of the structure directed towards me, and as soon as I see the flashing red dot on my chest, I immediately understand that the metal enveloping my legs in a friendly hug is not my only problem. Whatever it is that the high-frequency screeching is trying to lure here, it won't do me any good to wait until it gets here. That's why, I double the energy that I've spent on my attempts to break free so far, and I try to remove the bars from myself even more vehemently.

But even the ringing in my ears is penetrated by the crackling sound that suddenly appears in the hidden shadows of the forest, and I reflexively turn my head to the source of the noise. All my muscles go rigid and I become completely immobile as my gaze finds a dark shadow, blurred by distance, approaching with jerky movements in the direction where my humble person has frozen into a statue. And it becomes clear what the series of clever little traps I discovered earlier served, because I now recognize that even though I thought I had suddenly advanced to become an expert in forest traps, every obstacle that appeared up until now wanted to lead me here. No matter where I would have stumbled into this whole damn pile of shit, probably every small structure on the way to the safe house would have directed me here. Because by being a survival trial for Hunters, the goal all along could have been to end up here and find myself face-to-face with a monster. And I feel incredibly stupid for thinking that this would not happen. I should have known that Riley wasn't giving me the fucking gun as a decoration.

As if a divine spark had just ignited in my brain, I break out of the paralyzed anticipation, as my heart desperately tries to pump the adrenaline in my veins, revived by the terror. I hastily tear the backpack from my back, and with clumsy movements, I start to search its depths for the gun that Riley gave me, because, like a real idiot, I forgot that I had it at all. Nothing is more proof of my arrogance and blindness than the fact, that I hoped even for a brief moment, that it would be in a better place at the bottom of my bag than in my hand, because I wouldn't be needing it anyway.

And when my fingers find the cold metal among the many tiny survivor items, I don't get to enjoy the small success, because a bone-shattering roar soars above the deafening noise of the still enthusiastically whistling device. Frightened, my hand clenches around the pistol's grip as I turn my attention back to the unknown creature, and my blood runs cold instantly, as what the noise lured here emerges in front of me. Due to the coverage of the bushes, I can only see a large back covered with sparse, dark hair, and the deformed extensions of the vertebrae rise like sharp spikes along the spine, which are stained dark by the dirt and blood that have dried on them. The I.M.L.'s milky white eyes appear with an almost unnatural glint in the shadow of the canopy, and I forget to even breathe as I survey the monster, which could once have been a wild boar. And it doesn't take much intelligence to figure out that if this huge, bloodthirsty beast with bulging muscles ventures closer, I will not survive that encounter.

The realization is enough to wake me up again from my petrified state and trigger the survival instinct in me, which immediately tells me that even though I have the gun, I don't have the slightest chance of taking down this scumbag in such an open field. Because I can't waste my ammo and pump it full of bullets, because there's a chance that it has a few more buddies who will want to show up if I manage to escape this situation alive. Therefore, I tuck the gun into the waistband of my pants, yank my bag onto my back, and desperately grab the shackles that hold my legs with my hands, and clenching my teeth, I strain against them with all my might. A blinding agony rips through my back from the effort, but I pay no attention to it, but rather use the suffering to fight on, knowing for sure that if the beast gets here, that will be the end for me. And this is enough motivation for some foreign strength reserved in the hidden depths of me to emerge, which almost makes my muscles swell with unknown power. And as soon as the metal bars let go of their hold even for a little bit, I quickly pull my leg out of the trap.

I only take one last alarmed look at I.M.L., who moves out from among the branches, and turns its huge head, distorted by ulcerated bumps towards me, and as I assess the tusks probably as thick as my forearm protruding from its mouth, I don't wait any longer. I start running at such a speed that even my two cheerleader boys would erupt in ecstatic joy. The pain hits my left leg like a hammer with every movement, which continues to radiate into all my joints, but due to the adrenaline raging inside me, my brain only perceives the ache as a dull, distant feeling. Branches tear my clothes and get caught in my hair as I sprint frantically, but I don't care about anything else than getting as far away from the monster as possible, whose pounding steps, for now, reach my ears only from a distance.

In the middle of my panic-stricken rush, I try to go through the possible plans in my stressed brain that can help prevent me from becoming a mangled corpse. Even though the pistol digs into my waist with seductive hardness, I know that, unlike my trainers, my aiming skills are not half as developed that the fired bullet would stray close to the beast while running, let alone hit a vital organ that would lay it flat after one shot. However, the incessant throbbing in my leg reminds me that I can't just flee forever, because this enraged behemoth will catch up sooner or later, and I shouldn't wait for it to impale me with its tusks. And it's not a solution to mindlessly launch into the unknown landscape of the forest, because there's a chance that I'll stumble into a nice little trap again, which will definitely not end well. My only hope is that I can find some hideout and maybe I'll be lucky enough to surprise this bastard and hit it with a bullet while I take cover.

And, as soon as the idea forms in me, I start a desperate search for a nook and cranny, for anything that would be able to conceal me from the swine breathing down on my neck. But no matter how hard I look, the landscape slips past me too quickly for my gray matter to grasp any detail of it, or to identify a potential hiding place, since it's too busy leading me out of the mouth of danger. The thunderous sound of the feet behind me, which is getting louder and louder, doesn't help either, because it only increases my heart rate, which is already soaring to life-threatening heights, which, pounding on my eardrums, provides the only rhythm for my sprinting. I can almost feel the I.M.L.'s breath smelling of decaying flesh on the back of my neck, and every little hair rises from the sensation, and the cruel fist of fear closes around my stomach.

I don't dare to take my eyes off the rapidly changing forest scenery in front of me for even a moment, because the panic is working inside me, that says if I am careless even for a minute, the earth will open in two and swallow me, making sure to prepare me nicely for the monster's arrival. My lungs burn desperately as my accelerated breathing tries to get oxygen into my body, and I surprise even myself with how easy I seem to run without stopping. As if the fatigue had magically left my tormented limbs, and now some completely new force was driving me forward, which wouldn't let me give up or stop even for a second.

Suddenly, almost out of nowhere, the end of the forest floor appears in front of me, and I quickly realize that my survival is facing an unexpected obstacle. But as fast as the complication arrive, I decide my next step with the same speed, and without any hesitation, I throw myself down the steep hillside that emerges. Falling on my side, I slide down, and the sharp pain caused by the roots and stones hitting my body does not arrive at my brain. I quickly reach for the pistol that is slowly slipping out of my pants, and firmly wrap my fingers around the grip, and I stick out my free hand through the cloud of dust raised around me to dig into the ground, trying to control my body as it drifts down the hill.

And as I hit the bottom of the small chasm, I give myself a fleeting second to finally find a shelter, which can give me the opportunity to get rid of the beast that is slowly catching up with me. As if it were a gift from God, a pile of fallen trees towering over each other appear not long before me, and I'm filled with wild joy at the knowledge that I had finally found the perfect place. I immediately swing towards my makeshift fortress at breakneck speed, and the screeching howling from the top of the hill only motivates me to hurry. And when I reach my destination, I tear off my backpack with hasty movements and drop to my stomach to pull myself into the very narrow gap that opens under the trunks of the trees and the ground. The smell of musty, rotten leaves and wet earth fills my nose, and I clench my teeth and swallow the painful moan caused by the rough surface of the tree barks scratching my back, which is already full of injuries.

But before I can get into the right position for the attack, the trees resting above me creak with a loud crack, and I struggle onto my back in fear. And as I find myself eye-to-eye with the monster through the gaps filtering through the trunks, every part of my body freezes with icy fear. The milky white, worldless eyes stare at me, the stench of death and carrion emanating from the huge mouth fills my nose, and the otherworldly growl that erupts from the mutant echoes in every corner of my consciousness. With a loud bang, its heavy head collides with the logs protecting me, and with each movement, splinters of wood fly into the air following its attacks.

And I'm petrified, trembling, waiting to wake up, because the whole situation I've fallen into seems like a bad dream. My brain can't process how close death has come to me, and not a single nerve in me gets a spark from the shock of the realization. A single thought flashes before in my mind as the mutant methodically destroys my cover, that I can't end up like this. I can't die in the middle of a desolate forest, alone, by a damned mutated boar. I can't let myself become a pile of mangled guts and bones. This shouldn't be the last memory that is left of me. I can't let THEM remember me as the girl who got mauled by a fucking pig. I CAN'T DIE.

I have to realize that I have never experienced such terror in my life, and the dread brings a whole new side of me to the surface. And this self of me clings to every fragrant thread of life with its teeth and nails, and invades my body with such determination that it unexpectedly breaks my consciousness out of frozen shock. Such anger and poison ripple through all the fibers of my being, after which my energy boils up in my veins like hot lava, and suddenly all my senses are sharpened and focused on one single goal. My hand no longer trembles, as I raise the pistol clutched in it and load it, and all doubts about whether I will be saved disappear. The barrel of the gun is pointed confidently at the head of the wild animal raging above me, and even though it struggles with the thick tree trunks and gets closer to me, by now every drop of uncertainty has left my body. And as soon as I see the pus-oozing ulcer bulging between its two eyes in the aim, my finger pulls the trigger without hesitation.

The gun fires with an ear-piercing bang, and it doesn't bother me at all as the noise gets louder due to the insulation of the ground and trees around me, and my ears start to ring. Because it fills me with much greater joy when the mutant bastard staggers over and its huge body falls to the ground with a thud. Whining, I turn onto my stomach again to crawl out of my hideout, because the excitement and adrenaline pounding inside me tell me that it's not over yet, I still have to fight.

And when I emerge from under the tree trunks, I throw the pistol on the ground and straighten up to get around the pile of wood, and approach the beast lying on the other side with decisive steps. I had a good guess that a bullet wouldn't be enough to kill these bastards, because the virus that deforms them is famous for making its victims surprisingly durable if it can keep the host alive longer. But this little pig is out of luck, because the energy bubbling inside me gives me a determination that it will most certainly not survive. Bending down, I weave my fingers on an arm-thick stick, and my every muscle is filled with murderous rage as I gallop closer and measure up the monster writhing in the dirt. Black blood is bubbling from the gunshot wound on its head, its legs are twitching wildly as it tries to recover from the shock so that it can stand up and attack again. But I'm already there by its side, and it has no chance to pull itself together again.

I hit it with such momentum that when the piece of wood comes into contact with the beast's body, the force of the impact resonates through my arm almost painfully. But the cruel temper works much more strongly in me, which urges me more and more to continue what I have begun. My hand rises again and again, and with each blow stomach-churning crunches and splashes erupt from the mutant. A loud roar escapes from my mouth as I deliver blow after blow to my enemy who is slowly becoming motionless on the ground, but even then the immeasurable anger raging inside me does not subside. Because every single one of my frustrations is pouring out of me now, which was only reinforced by death coming within a hair's breadth. Gritting my teeth, I slam down without stopping, and I don't care about the gnawing ache in my back, nor the pain straining my palm. And I don't stop my rampage until the branch breaks in my hand and the other end lands on the ground, in a pile of mutilated flesh beyond recognition.

I bend down on my knees panting, and for the first time, I really take a look at what I have just done. And as I survey the ground soaked with dark blood, the brain coils lying in small pieces through the shattered skull, I am filled with a strange satisfaction. Because the image flashes in my mind that if I hadn't been the stronger one, then I would be lying in the mud in the same way now. And even then, I don't regret the brutality with which I executed this vermin, when the red clouds of rage clear from my brain, and the mixture of adrenaline and energy pulsating in my veins finally begins to calm down.

And as the impulse that had kept me moving lessens, I feel every stab of the pain radiating through my body again, but the knowledge of how my desperate struggle for survival has amortized me doesn't dampen my mood. Because I recall again the image that danced in front of my mind's eye when, like a switch, the terror in me turned into brutal anger fighting for survival. And even I am surprised when I realize how deeply I was affected by the humanity and trust shown to me by the small group of Hunters. Because in the throat of death, among others, the faces of MacTavish, Garrick, and Price appeared before me, and the realization that I could not lose what I had just tasted drove my body towards fighting more vehemently than anything else in my life. And although I still think it's pathetic to admit, I can no longer deny that the reason I rejected the idea of running away and pushed myself forward was the fact, that I've already sampled what it's like to be one of them, and I'm willing to fight tooth and nail, so that I don't experience this for the last time. Because no one has ever, not even once, turned to me with as much compassion and warmth as these people in their own way, and there is no power in this world that can divert my selfish desire to continue enjoying this exceptional treatment. And an amused laugh breaks out of me when I realize that even Riley won't stand a chance, and I'm willing to stroll to the safe house to throw this in his face. On second thought, I should be grateful to the man for bringing me here. Because I suspect that I would not have reached this enlightenment without a near-death experience.

I stand up with renewed motivation, I turn around and start searching for my scattered equipment. And when my eyes find my bag lying on the floor, I pull a small smile on my face and smoothing my hand on the back of my head, I start to heal the bruises and deep cuts running along my back. I will need all my strength and all my equipment, because I will not stop until the end, even if I have to chase myself until my last breath. And when I reach the finish line, I will pass on all the lessons of my new discovery to the Hunter.

* ⃰

Exhaustion weighs on my legs like a heavy burden, and even though I've healed most of my injuries, there's just enough aching left to remind me that I can't stop. And it wouldn't make sense to get rid of it anyway, because I can already see the wretched shack appearing behind the thinning line of trees, for which I crossed this goddamn forest. The fiery rays of the setting sun paint the tin roof of the shabby house orange, and this diverts the attention from the fact that the whole shanty is probably only held together by the Holy Spirit. It may have once been used by hikers to rest on their way after a long adventure, and at the time it may have seemed more suitable for this purpose. Still, this crumbling cabin is the most beautiful thing I've ever had the pleasure of seeing in my eyes now. Because limping towards it means I've done it. I survived the ordeal I thought was impossible and passed the test, which I suspect neither I nor Riley, who is waiting for me at the cottage, expected with full certainty.

My hand looks for leverage in one of the tree trunks as I step forward from the woods, and my gaze almost automatically meets the man's, who merely pushes himself away from the wall of the safe house upon my arrival. And I'd be lying if I said that it doesn't fill me with ferocious joy when I can feel the mild surprise emanating from him even from a distance, since I know that even if he counted on the possibility that I would get out of this affair alive, he also assumed that my path would not lead here. The dark eyes run over me in a split second, and I feel them taking in every available surface of my battered, dirty and blood-stained form, and I have to hide the evil little smile that wishes to come on my lips, when it occurs to me, that the state of my appearance might give him reason for concern.

And when he steps off the small porch of the shack, I, accompanied by a weak moan, let the fatigue and the throbbing ache in my limbs take over and help my body fall to the ground with a dull thud. After the trials of the previous hours, I can accept the feeling more easily as I meet the hard ground, and it even feels a little pleasant, as I enter a state close to resting for the first time since the previous night. Closing my eyes, I allow myself to finally relax for a few moments after the hellish lesson I've been through, and it doesn't bother me at all that I'm stirring up and inhaling the dust below me with my slow breathing. Thanks to MacTavish and Garrick's clever little ideas, I'm almost used to this experience.

But my attention doesn't waver despite my seemingly unconscious state, because I keep my ears open and listen as the Hunter's heavy steps get closer and closer to me, thus leading him into the sneaky little trap that I had time to devise while running the last few kilometers. The shadow of his tall figure looms over me as he stands in front of me, and I can almost feel his searching gaze burning my back, as he surely checks for signs of life on my limp person. His unmistakable spicy scent creeps into my nose as he crouches down next to me, and I feel one of his big hands spreading across my back. The touch with which he pulls aside the fabric of my torn turtleneck to examine my injuries is light as a feather, and I continue to let him explore with the calmness of a fainted victim, even though the worn skin tingles in the wake of his probing.

And the possibility probably fills him with sincere uncertainty that he might have really succeeded and killed the new little helper of his team, because he doesn't even notice the way one of my eyes opens and assesses the person crouching next to me. His left hand is resting on one of his bent thighs, and his tattooed skin peeking out from under his rolled-up sleeve is calling me almost seductively, offering itself to be the protagonist of my little action. I let him estimate the damage for a few more moments, and when his hand slides from my back to my shoulder to reach under me and lift me up, I know the moment has arrived to strike. Using the momentum of the power left in me, I suddenly reach for his free hand, and my fingers lock onto his upper arm with such speed that he doesn't have enough time to free himself from his musings about my battered state. The muscles under my palm tense up as I channel the first sparks of my lightning-fast little energy into him, forcing a momentary confusion on the Hunter in a vile way.

And as he sways for a minute and loses his rock-solid balance, I seize this opportunity to spring up and push into him with my full weight, grabbing his shoulders and almost throwing myself at him. He falls on the ground with a loud thump as a result of my unexpected action, and I am on top of him in a second, and with skillful movements I unfasten a large knife from the tactical vest on his chest in order to point it at his neck and stop him in any kind of opposition that might arise in him. During the journey there, I had plenty of time to imagine how I was going to carry out my little revenge, which I would use to reward the hostile little words addressed to me as a farewell. But I have to say, as I kneel over him, the sight before me is far beyond my imagination.

As he wakes up from the shock of the moment, his brown eyes jump to my face and are filled with honest surprise as they take in the situation and the triumphant smile on my lips. He tries to move under me, but I only press the pretty little blade that I have just so deftly stolen from him to his throat a bit harder. And that familiar tremble appears in my stomach again, as the line of his jaw shifts in frustration when he realizes what a clever little trap I've lured him into with my award-winning performance. And I remind myself to mention to Price later, that he was wrong about that I can't always rely on distraction when I attack. Because I managed to catch even the strongest Hunter in the unit unprepared with the neat little trick.

"Looks like I won." I sprinkle in my comment, and I don't even try to make the superiority that moves into my voice disappear, because, after the day I've been through, I'm finally going to have some fun. And since my goal is to further enhance the already interesting situation, I lean closer to him with my free hand sliding to his chest so that I can study and enjoy every available change of his face from a safe distance. And I pull a smirk on my lips when I note how his body tenses under me, but he continues to wait with deliberate immobility to see where my little activity leads. Although I know that if he wanted to, he would throw me off of himself like a rag doll. "I hope you haven't forgotten what you promised if I manage to touch you with even a finger."

With this, I really manage to catch him off guard for a moment, because I can recognize the process even from the coverage of the mask, as he furrows his brows in confusion. I ponder on the idea, that up until now he could have been preparing for the fact that I would end his career on earth now out of revenge for this whole torture, but fortunately, the enlightenment I experienced in the forest diverted me from this path for some time now. Although it is true that it has crossed my mind a couple of times to inform him of my discoveries in a more uncomfortable and bloodier way than what my present actions convey. But since I am determined to return to the base, even though I need him as a driver, it is also a non-negligible aspect, thanks to my newly found sympathy, that his absence, presumably, would deeply sadden his little team. And maybe my everyday life would become much more boring without our little games.

"I didn't think you’d be able to do it." He says, breaking his silence, and it's not entirely clear whether he's talking about my escape or my little revenge maneuver, but whatever he means, the breath of playfulness in his deep voice gives me satisfaction. Because this is the first time that his speech directed at me doesn't ring with hostility or harsh bluntness.

"I hope you can get over it." I reply to his comment with unbroken cheerfulness, since I really hope that he can put aside his disappointment caused by my survival for the sake of our future relationship. As things currently stand, my plans include spoiling the air of unit for the foreseeable future, and perhaps this outing in the woods has diverted both of us to the path where the atmosphere between the two of us will become somewhat more livable. Of course, it doesn't even occur to me that we'll be best friends, because I don't plan to hold back a single remark from my sharp little tongue, regardless of what revelations I've made in the heat of the fucking life-threatening danger. And I suspect he will feel just a little bit less motivated to break my neck. But that's perfectly fine. If our little duel didn't continue, I'm afraid my life would become too boring and gray. After all, what would I do in my spare time if I couldn't think of creative ways to piss him off?

"We'll see." He reacts to my little suggestion quite casually, and for some reason, I particularly like the way he is stuck underneath me, between my thighs, and lets me enjoy every little moment of my victory. Interestingly, this position suits him surprisingly well, where he's robbed of control by someone taking him to the ground, which I suspect is not a common occurrence. And this is starting to soothe my soul somewhat after today's sea of shit.

But as his dark eyes leave my face and move on to my figure pinning him to the ground, the superiority I just felt suddenly diminishes. And the excited little sparks under my skin shouldn't arise by the way his gaze glides over me, because now I have the upper hand, and in this situation, my morbid little joy should be the cause of the tingle appearing in my stomach at most. But now a new feeling rears its evil little head inside me, prompting me to retreat quickly, because this intimate moment has the potential to take an unknown turn if I stay in it. And as much as I know that the man sprawled beneath me is probably just looking for ways in his indifferent mind to torture me later as a reward for my little move, I still can't get rid of the thrilling excitement that moves into my limbs.

Therefore, I rather decide that it is time to return to the base, because the imaginations in my head are rampant in increasingly wild ways due to fatigue. So I easily give up on my little mission, since I am too worn out and exhausted to burden my already frayed nerves with such complicated thoughts and observations. I push myself away from him with quick movements, giving myself momentum with my hand resting on his chest, and standing up, I take a few steps back to give him a chance to gather himself.

"You could take me back now." I raise my free hand towards him, putting all my indifference into this small gesture, even though I know that this is my first move towards him, in which no insidious, sly ulterior motive is hidden. "I'd kill for a shower." I add a rather realistic reason to my wish, because the only thing that can help my current state is a good bath and my hard little bed. And while before I would have accepted it cynically if the enjoyment of such simple pleasures arose in me, after wrestling with mutants, I somehow re-evaluate how uplifting the feeling can be when I'm allowed to just simply exist pleasantly.

A few torturous moments pass, but finally, he firmly wraps his long fingers around my outstretched hand, and regaining consciousness from the shock of my attack he sits up, and I, accompanied by the screams of my tortured muscles, pull him up so that he can tower above me again. I'm sure that he would have been able to do this stunt on his own too, but the fact that he accepted my hand instead of killing me on the spot, fills me with a breath of contentment that I wouldn't admit out loud, even if a cute little piglet would want to murder me again.

"Remember that you owe me a wish." I remind him, as I tap his vest with the knife I had sneaked away from him, and I can't hold back the cheeky grin curling at the corners of my mouth, which appears on my face at the mention of my reward. If he thought that one of the forest traps would make such an impression on my mind that I would forget his irresponsibly sarcastic little remark, then I'm sad to say, that he played with the wrong person. Because unfortunately, my memory is even better than my survival instinct. "I won't let you cop out." I promise him, and despite the insolence in my voice, my intentions are really serious in this regard, because he can be certain, that I will save up this opportunity for a very sneaky moment. Those who have an irresponsible mouth will have to suck it up and follow through.

"Let's go." He cuts my little threat short, while taking the knife I got from him and sliding it back into one of the intricate pockets of his vest with practiced movements. He gives me another meaningful look, and he doesn't have to voice what his message is to me, because I can decipher it myself quite well. And as the coldness in the dark eyes moderates somewhat, I realize that from now on he wants to chase me away from his team a few degrees less. Because my return was a clear answer to the question that had probably been on his mind until now, and now that he can rest assured that I will not stab him in the back, he will be calmer to let me live.

He walks towards the jeep with comfortable steps, and I follow him, accompanied by a tired sigh, but still keeping my lightness. I don't spare a single glance at the forest behind me, which is slowly fading into the evening, even though it has become the scene of fateful memories. And although the events that took place in the abundance of nature resolved many of my stormy emotions and thoughts, I can't wait to leave the fucking home of life-threatening adventures behind me. Because I am much more interested in how my life at the unit will continue after this. And something tells me that the real excitement will only follow after this.

[lonelysucker7]

Strangers on a Train

Pairing: Kaine Parker x gn!Reader!!!! Might be even the first one lol.

Summary: You’re just an average person making their daily living, surviving adulthood as it is. You live in Houston, Texas where even the hero the Scarlet Spider lives. And then there’s a guy, who looks like he’s gone through hell, on a train you’re crushing on.

Word count: 4.6k

Reader is a bit insecure but still shown to have confidence in themselves. Tried making this as neutral as possible and let me know if I need to make any adjustments or corrections! And tell me what else to add in the tags as I am so unsure! This is not edited by anyone. Reader is between 20-30.

Warnings: Profanity, mentions of violence, angst, insecurity, childhood mention, hints of parental issues

Anywho enjoy!

⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴

You lived alone.

Practically an adult now, not needing anyone to worry about you. At least that’s how you felt trying not to doubt your new independent life. Your parents suggested one of them could live with you temporarily until you felt truly ready.

Did they not trust you enough?

Trying to ease their worries by saying how you would be fine and how your job helped keep you financially stable, was more than enough to take the hint you didn’t need them.

And yet… the little kid inside you berated you for being so stubborn and perhaps wrong at your choice. You practically dismissed what may have been more than a helping hand. Or something. And not only because you were confident finding your way around purely by instinct but the fact you alone moved far away from home— landing yourself in Houston, Texas.

Why out of all places, you’ll never understand.

Maybe because like most popular states in the United States of good ol’ America, Texas was politically wild. Always something new coming up in controversial and culturally relevant ways. It applied the same to Houston. It was grand. It was sophisticated and complicated. It was intimidating. You’ve only been there once in your life to visit a relative and somehow that experience never left you. It stayed.

It was perfect for you, your siblings said. You were complicated enough already, why not move to a place that met people of your type? Most nights as you stared at the popcorn patted ceiling, you mulled on their words with a dumb grin on your face. A new form of excitement you began to secretly crave outside your typical hometown awaited in Houston. Outside of your own comfort zone being a ‘neighbor next door.’

In school, many of your fellow peers and teachers saw your potential leaving and pursued anything that outweighed them career wise. The big bucks waited for you. For others, they might have envied you to your grave as you gained immense approval that they could not. In your chair as spoken approval words filled the air, the sharp stares of fellow students stabbed around your body.

What a goody two shoes… what a liar… you weren’t better than anyone.

I’m sorry, leave me alone , you thought painfully to yourself. Your nails forcefully dig a little on your thighs. Yet you smiled all the way through.

Through a series of obstacles that included breaking up with childhood friends reducing to one trusted, a close call with drugs, off and on flirting with peers you thought had something going on but never resulted in anything, and maybe a couple drinks that you sneaked in your system…you graduated high school with average grades and made your way to college. You left everyone behind. And you felt nothing but pure numbness that eventually emotions caught up to you three days later. Not that you let anyone know.

College was the first time you felt your parents had trusted you with the most faith they had in their children. It was far away from where you lived, breathing new air and feeling the change of atmosphere as you walked around campus.  Occasionally you called your parents and siblings to check up on you and them in return. College gave you a taste of what independence was, some form of responsibility that only you felt could navigate yourself through the ups and downs.

And it surprisingly tired you. But it was okay, you assured yourself. Somehow you’ll make it just fine.

You always did.

.......................................

BEEP BEEP BEEEEEEEPPPP— SLAM!

6:00 A.M.

The alarm had abruptly woke you up with a start. That horrible sound of the typical ‘beeps’ that only grew louder by the second if you ignored it until it finally woke up your ignorant ass. You slammed it with a hand, a low grumble emitting from your lips as you flexed your palm from the stinging pain. Must you live in such a way? Sure. You could’ve used your phone instead, whereas provided you with elegant ringtones not needing to stress you and make your morning hell.

But no. You’d only feel too relaxed, feeding more pleasure to sleep than waking you up to fulfill another uneventful but still lively day.

Another day in Houston, your mind mumbled to itself. This wasn’t college anymore. Now you are a full time working adult.

So you woke up, turning your body on your back as your eyes scanned the room. Surprisingly, unlike back at home, the sunshine here arrived early. Light peaked through the white satin curtains and filled the bedroom with a happy glow of orange hues. You took in the soft noise of a fan running in the background to keep you fresh in the night. After all, the temperatures here weren’t merciful to your body.

Your eyes squinted a bit moving another direction of the room, taking in the sight of your desk becoming more untidy. Pens, paper, a couple of thumbtacks, and paper clips spread across the surface calling to be cleaned up. You frowned a little from the sight. You weren’t messy most of the time. You had to do something about it later. Eventually you set your sights on a calendar from across the room. A big red circle marked in about a week from today, black bold letters scattered over the number as if there was much enthusiasm to give but you clearly knew what it was.

Your birthday! A small half smile crossed your lips as the thought settled in. Obviously you would get phone calls from your family in the next upcoming days so it won’t be too hard to forget.

Okay that’s it. A small giddy feeling bubbles in your chest and you feel it was enough to start your day. You squirmed a bit on the bed, stretching your stiff muscles from your arms and legs (even getting an ankle spasm scare hah), and sat up. From the heavy warm cotton blanket you were comfortable underneath, your body departed with a goodbye as you got off the bed.

.......................................

6:15 A.M.

You pulled down your boxes of cereals from the cabinet trying to debate which one was better, eventually sticking with the colorful “Lucky Charms”. Shuffling your way to the living room, you grabbed a chair and dragged it to you sitting down with the cool bowl in hand.

As you ate comfortably, your hand reached for the remote of the T.V and flipped through the channels. Various channels displaying morning cartoons, advertisements for useless things, and then…

BREAKING NEWS: THE SCARLET SPIDER DOES IT AGAIN!

Your eyes widened a little as you watched the hero of Houston swing down in front of what must have been a shootout and (you couldn’t help but laugh) watch him grab a couple civilians from the scruff of their shirts and toss them out of the way. Live coverage from earlier you figured as the background barely showed any sunlight. Seemed that the activity happened near the Houston Zoo.

It was comical the way he did his work. Munching on your breakfast you observed how flexible and fast he was, noting the red and black suit hardly became untouched by the flying bullets. The camera ducked down behind injured cars, capturing the action in jagged movements and you heard a breathless reporter talking to the station.

“We’ve obviously seen Scarlet fight before, but this— this absolutely boggles your brain. I mean just look at those fists, and those — oh my god, did you see that?! That guy just sliced a finger off!”

The cereal in your mouth almost spat out as you jumped seeing the Scarlet Spider whip his head around to face the camera and jumped from a lengthy distance and landed in front of the car they hid. The cameraman let out a strained yelp as he clutched the camera, daring to raise it up… to his figure.

Shit, you had enough fans in your home but seeing him in his suit and muscles practically stretched out from his work absolutely made you sweat. The red glare of his lenses reflected back the image of the camera and his fists were clenched seriously by his sides. A smug smile and dumb giggling got you choking on your cereal, even more so when the hero grabbed the reporter and the cameraman in the air.

With all that strength, you could imagine it wasn’t a problem. The camera panned down at the Scarlet Spider; him shaking just the minimum. Heavy breaths sounding hot and stuffy from his mask were heard through the camera as the hero finally spoke.

“THE F——…?! What, doesn’t this scream to you ‘Save your a—es?’ Stop recording and get yourselves out of here! Move it !”

His ragged breathy words sent chills to your spine. He seethed it with so much intensity that it was harsh, it was intimidating… maybe even a bit sexy. You swallowed a spoonful of those bastard little marshmallows, making a face as you felt them enter the wrong tube.

More popping noises of guns in the background could be heard, and the Scarlet Spider dropped both men on the ground as he returned with a growl to his work. The cameraman and his fellow reporter somehow managed to escape the scene unharmed, and unsurprisingly they laughed the whole situation off.

“Wow, that was… quite the experience! Better write that part in my resume, huh Mark? Not that it matters…”

Your sights still drifted to meet the cameraman’s focus from a now safer distance still catching the action happening. The Scarlet Spider grabbed a gun out of a mob's hand and flipped it to punch him with the butt of it, then grabbed another man and slammed him into a wall.

You noticed the time and it was almost 6:30. Sighing as you left the table, you quickly washed your dish without much thought and placed it aside. As you moved to the bathroom, the T.V in the background still exclaimed the success of The Scarlet Spider and tried to get a word from him. Of course, nothing.

In the shower, you reminisce about the Scarlet Spider and his unusual style of being a hero. You didn’t know if it was normal, but it was something that you found yourself thinking about most of the time.

Earlier when you meant by how comical he worked, you meant to say how strangely funny the Scarlet Spider worked with fists and not the webs he had on him. Unlike Spider-Man in New York, you noted silently how it seemed that the Scarlet Spider intentionally brought himself to face the danger. Made contact directly with the person, stepped in and pushed away whatever morals he may have (or not at all) and went down with it in a brutal way.

Didn’t seem he’d shy away from a bloodbath. Rather he welcomed it. He was different. You were aware of the supernatural forces that Houston encountered now and then and his webbing seemed to have only been useful then. For now, with the normal civilian and criminal, fists were his only friend.

Warm water poured on your back, slid down to your feet as you pondered on a single thought.

Who was he?

.......................................

7:15 A.M

Once after a rather lengthy shower, you changed into your work clothes and kept your eyes on the clock. Your work required you to travel by commuting on a train so it was necessary to arrive sharp on time. One thing you learned arriving in Houston were people, elderly and youth fighting for a seat. No one liked standing just to sway from the movement of the train whenever it stuttered to a stop. It was just painfully awkward.

You chuckled at a memory that resurfaced from  your dense brain. On the day of your first ride, you had a job interview and as you reviewed the paperwork in your hand, the train stopped and caused the papers to fall out of your hands. You were one of the unlucky ones standing that day. You remembered how you had to get on your knees and mumbling apologies that fell on deaf ears just to get your papers back in your hands. Even more so you felt embarrassed as one stranger grabbed a full fist of them and shoved them on you.

You didn’t catch who it was, but you faintly remembered the scars on their hands and you raised your head to see who it was. And no one with scars in their hands seemed to be in sight. Maybe they left abruptly as soon as the train stopped.

But despite the wrinkles on the paper and leaving you mad all day, you were thankful they were all there. And thankful to the stranger who bothered to help when no one else could…

.......................................

Making sure you had everything in your worn out duffle bag, from your lunch, extra pencils, and some other miscellaneous item, and a last minute check of your face by the mirror, you hurried out of your apartment.

You were greeted by the warm morning sunshine glaring down at you, and you responded to it with a little smile. For a second you fumbled with the keys as you locked the door and then quickly moved down the brittle metal stairs, feeling the wind blowing your still showered head.

Some of the neighbors that stood outside their lawns mowing the grass greeted you and you automatically greeted back, quickly picking up more speed on your footing to avoid conversation. They were all very friendly and who had noticed you were new and fresh to the neighborhood. But even so you couldn’t help but notice a couple of them stare at you with a feeling of uncomfortable interest. For now as they didn’t say or do anything out of line, you were safe.

You crossed the streets with a little jog as the pedestrian light turned white with the little person, eyeing the cars almost with a suspicion never knowing if they suddenly moved an inch of their car. You made it safely, continuing to jog to the station just about 5 minutes left from where you were.

The morning was still early, but Houston jumbled and rumbled with life. You could hear the distant drilling of concrete from a construction site, the vendors preparing their carts with a sizzle of their grills, and kids goofing past you on their way to school. Today seemed to be a good one, and you clenched your duffle bag close to you with the faith on set.

7:45 A.M. and finally you arrived on time at the station. Out of breath you leaned on a post to calm down your racing heart and gulped cool air to your lungs. You ignored the people next to you staring at you oddly and took your time breathing (maybe even exaggerating just for your own amusement.) As if breathing wasn’t normal, good god.

But you pulled out your wallet, lining up behind a couple people as they stood in front of a machine that gave them their ticket depending on the train they were to board.

The METROrail was a system you had difficulty understanding at first, figuring out the routes and time through trial and error. It took a while but overtime you got into routine and it became familiar to you. You were young, but old enough to remember something that big made you proud. You could have bought a pass, sure, but there were METRO police officers who usually got on board the train and checked either way if you truly got on. No one could be sure.

But you were going to take your usual. “The Red Line” as the station coined it was a more popular route that took everyone to the main destinations in the important parts of Houston tourist attraction. Hence the morning train being full of people. The train passed by districts, medical centers, museums, etc with ease.

In fact a museum, you worked in one to anyone’s shock. To be more precise the Museum of Fine Arts as a tour guide to youth and anyone who cared.

As soon as you got your ticket in hand and waited by the sideline, you flipped your wrist to check the time on your watch.

8:00 A.M. Where was that—ah.

At last the train arrived in all its glory, breaks making that familiar soft screech on the pavement. The doors opened with a swift movement with the cool air of a running AC inside. You realized how suddenly the weather outside must have gotten hot already, the sun now burning on the back of your body.

You waited a few moments, politely letting a group of ladies with children and a man in a wheelchair get on first. Eventually it was your turn, getting on with ticket in hand and small stepping a bit behind people. Once on board your first instinct was to find a seat. And what do you know.

A seat.

You sat your bum immediately down, a silent cheer of happiness as you completed the first part of your morning with no trouble. Well your face showed a smile and a hint of smugness as you eyed those standing. Even better, your seat was right close to the exit. You let yourself relax on the seat, the chill of the AC cooling you.

And then you were off.

.......................................

Whenever you boarded the light rail train, you kept to yourself. You liked talking, but most of your conversations seemed to end abruptly or fade once the other person drifted off. You once tried engaging in a conversation with a man next to you asking for helpful survival tips when you were new to Houston, but he waved a hand saying a mere,

“Sorry, I’m just not feeling it today. Bother someone else okay?”

And you did. But the same thing happened, you might as well you quit trying and figure it out yourself. Sometimes you went back to that thought: If any of your parents lived with you, would things be simpler? Maybe. That way they’d immediately get their answers from connections and some sort of extroverted communication to anyone. They were good at that sort of thing.

You sighed, brushing that thought away. Now you were bored.

For fun you did one of the few: checked your phone to read the latest pointless celebrity gossip, the weather, politics, your messages, just adult stuff. Or you observed the people who rode the train with you, different or new. You weren’t afraid to think you had favorites. Of course you did.

There was a elderly woman in her mid 60’s who smiled to herself as she read an absurdly erotic novel with the typical hot, young, hair shoulder length blonde cowboy on the cover carrying a pretty woman in his strong muscles. Oh and shirtless too, how can you forget. The woman was a regular, often waving at you occasionally as she saw you but never engaged in conversation. Sometimes you picked up a heavy scent of vanilla? Jasmine? Well she reminded you of your mom somehow.

Then there was a wannabe DJ, a young man in his early 20’s sitting in between two men with newspapers in hand, as he jammed his head to a tune in his headphones. You often saw him chatting out loud as he bothered a stranger next to him about the plans of becoming a musician and tried showing off his set. And you felt bad as the rest on the train argued with him to silence his instrument. But you admired his determination.

And finally… him.

He sat alone in a corner, a heavy serious expression on his face as he snoozed. A rather buffed guy in his late 20’s you assumed. His arms were crossed, stretching the material of his black sweater in small wrinkles and you wondered what had him so bothered. Or was he like that already?

You stared at him a little more, watching his sleeping figure lean onto the wall, his gloved hand coming up to scratch his stubble alongside his jaw. You don’t remember if he was there the first time you rode the train but if he was you did feel somewhat upset never to notice him.

A man with shaved growing auburn hair, you thought he rocked in it so well unlike most. You could tell he was very tired, noticing dark circles forming around his eyes. Perhaps he took the train home, maybe working at night as he was always here hours before you. Sometimes he didn’t ride at all.

For someone so young, he seemed to have seen worse days. His face changed every time you saw him. Either he was covered in dried up blood near his lip, a swollen bruise under his left eye, or a bunch of unicorn themed bandages stuck unevenly on his face. What did stay the same were a few peppered scars across his face.

His injuries left you concerned all the time, the urge to ask him if he was okay stayed on your tongue. Where did he get them? Did he not have anyone to tell him anything at home? A family? A…significant other? There was an answer and you hoped one day you’d get one. Your thoughts moved on trying to take in another thing from him. Standing out to you as amusing was something in his expression as he slept.

The stranger frowned in his sleep. Almost pouting, as his bottom lip jutted out a little and his dark thick eyebrows knitted together. Not many people frown from your knowledge, so you’d always ask yourself what he was thinking. And he gave you the vibe that he was intimidating. The clothes he usually wore weren’t, just a simple black leather jacket or sweater, a plain t-shirt of any color underneath and blue weathered out jeans with work boots.

His hands were covered in leather gloves, and you didn’t piece together a reason. It was summertime, the worst time to wear gloves at all. Unless it was for a job? He did look like he worked hard for a living. Yet the opinion didn’t stick the same for others. Most of the time the people standing stared at him with unease and maintained a distance away from him. Like if he were some sort of thug.

He just slept peacefully. And you liked that.

You felt yourself start smiling.

He’s really handsome.

You shifted in your seat as your brain whispered that confession, even glancing at him to see if he may have read your mind. Looking down back at your hands, you sigh. As if.

You wondered if he knew this was common for him. To be seen in some sort of inferior way. You shook your head, knowing you were assuming way too much.

Never once have you made a move to talk with him, unsure if he’ll take it in a friendly way. You always wanted to, sometimes lingering your stare on his sleeping form way too much for the sake of moving. The questions always burning with curiosity. Butterflies always formed in your stomach whenever you rode the train, taking a seat near or far from him. You were always daydreaming what would have happened if you were lucky enough to sit next to him. However they weren’t good ones. The what-if’s tended to fill your mind.

What if he doesn’t like me already?

What if he gets annoyed that I talked to him first?

What if I’m the reason he stops riding this train?

The thoughts were loud in your head, making you clutch your bag with a nervous swallow. And suddenly the weight of stupidity fell on you.

You weren’t anyone to anyone here on this train. Much less to him.

You didn’t know each other.

You didn’t understand why it mattered to you.

You were both strangers on this train.

Traveling to a destination that drops you off without much of a beat.

DING!

Your thoughts were broken when the train stopped. Was it your stop already? Your head turned upwards towards the little sign on the doorway that indicated the stop. And the robotic voice of the announcement made itself clear.

No… it wasn’t yours. It was his.

Both your eyes met as he finally awoke and briefly seemed to take in your presence from across the cart. You felt yourself freeze and unable to look away, blood rushing from your neck to your ears. Your heart thrummed excitedly and yet terrified against your chest. He just simply blinked and the corner of his lip made a funny jump pulling back. You couldn’t tell what that meant but his auburn eyes seemed to tell another story.

Like they said, “Fuck off.”

He reached down his seat, pulling out a backpack of sorts and slung it over his shoulder. There was another thing that always impressed you when he stood. It was his height.

Good grief… He practically towered everyone here. Whatever he did for a job must have been easy with a height like that. The only con there was for him unfortunately the ceiling of the train itself. He needed to duck his head just by an inch to get out. You weren’t sure what the average height for a person in Houston was but whatever it was certainly did not meet his standards.

He stood up from his seat, moving towards the exit that happened to be next to you.

Oh no.                              

           

To your silent panic, the door was being stalled by the man from the wheelchair, a train assistant putting down the accessible ramp for him. That wasn’t a problem, no it was okay. Just the fact he was now lingering next to you as he waited to exit, your knees almost touching his leg.

You lowered your eyes to your duffel bag on your lap, playing mindlessly with the pins of popular bands you loved. You could feel his stares looking down at your head, and you didn’t want to look up. Oh god why did this have to happen…?

But eventually the group of people who were waiting for the whole process to finish began to move. His legs disappeared from your sight in front of you, now moving to the exit.

The doors closed, and now your stop was on its way. You didn’t want to look back. But you did.  You looked behind you from out the window, and as the train moved, saw the back of his figure walking away from the station. Head down with his legs producing smooth strides as he shoved his hands in his pockets. Even his hips swayed a little.

Huh. He had some sass to his walk.

You returned to your original position in your seat, exhaling a breath you didn’t know you held. Was it really that scary? Yeah it was.

Some impressions you made there. Must have been a pain for both of you, but much more for him. Your thoughts kept drifting back to his eyes. They held so much intensity you could tell they judged you in some way, silently looking for a reason to even bother looking at you at all.

Was it personal? Did he actually seem to show some interest in you or was it nothing? Whatever it was, you chose not to assume immediately. He just seemed like he had a bad day. That’s all…

Time passed by so quickly, you arrived at your stop in no time. The Museum District. And off the train went as you left the station. From there you kept grounding a simple reminder:

Stop overthinking, overreacting, you are a damn adult! That’s kid stuff!

You grind your teeth, as you climb the steps to the Museum and open the door to enter.

But one thing was clear. One thing you finally understood from this whole thing of complicated absurdity. It wasn’t even hard. You just refused to accept it.

You entered the locker room, placed your bag inside and pulled out your ID card. Closing the locker door you made your way outside the room to start your day. As you exit, you swung the door closed with a rough slam to it.

Admit it will you?

You sighed.

You had a crush on this stranger.

⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴

11/18/23

Hey… thanks for reading this :)

I don’t know if I’ll put out another chapter, but we’ll see okay? Bye.

Edit: Chapter 2 is up

—-LonelySucker7

[meanwhileinstasiville]

A memory

It's 1987 again. I'm almost five years old, having been raised on the ceiling of the Dutch class system and rabbinical traditional as passed on to mom by Sophia. In a short while she'll have a complete breakdown and reemerge as a completely different person. And nobody notices. We will, slightly before that, drive through a literal firestorm to rescue a sister I didn't know, from Roseburg. Within a weeks time, the person who took her in will cease to exist as she was.

And no one notices. Although, my sister notices, in twilight zone capacity, that the person she had become would have never risked a firestorm for any reason. (Dad HAD noticed a change, and chalked it up to "not wanting to live out at her dad's", so he slipped her cocaine in her soda to "cheer her up" inadvertently expediting the process)

Identity is fully formed by age five, and so the person who raised me became a stranger in her own eyes. Who raised me? Why marry dad? Where did sister come from? So in the meantime, dad had changed his schedule and reworked his life around avoiding his own daughter. "We" Katrina and I, functionally lost both of our parents within a two week period.

School rejected me at kindergarten because "I hadn't gone to preschool", and preschool itself had rejected me because dad sounded black on the phone, they thought I was jewish, or both. And Katrina had a headstart on me since I had a year to go before starting school; so they had inferred me from her, another demerit to someone schools didn't even know.

(So what had seemed like an escape from certain death for her, turned out to be worse than she imagined. And so much so, that she fled back to it before graduating highschool)

So what had happened was, sickening as she did when stuff went terminal, she started reverting back to herself; some thirty some years of fugue state ended a week or two before she got to die as herself.

"You're just like you were when you were little!" Yeah, I didn't change.

Addendum, this is when I developed a chip on my shoulder. When mom stopped cooking and no one would believe me, because swing shift covers dinnertime hours and she cooked on the weekend, when dad was home. When tegner said I couldn't read and a surprise considering what her sole educative purpose was. All of first grade, that was.

When she was staying up all night and sleeping all day, because dad was slipping her cocaine, so I drew a crude version of her "being in bed" all the time. Away went the minimalist furniture, and out of storage came the spendy antique surfaces with inlays; to "discourage" drawing what was going on in the house, in the future. A strange woman where mom used to be.

Aside, for present day, when I get followed around by silver FJs now and again (bronze, silva?, gold) as a living response to social media sometimes. What service did you provide, and for whom, and on what terms, to secure *all of this*??? Silver fire; four thousand firefighters around the clock billable hours, suspicious and coincidentally out in trip wire drug grow land (at the time). A ryan expy (several of them today) alongside an expy of any women of interest on social media or in real life. As if. Secured for doing what? This crowdsourced experience *targeting* me?

Expys with blonds, expys with redheads; no expys with latinas.

And synagogues take to new oppressors like living generational violence examples. So they "appease" the latin kings (like the kneeling biazzi sign, of italians around here), who in turn are trying to break into white power structure up top.

(So if it *really* is that you guys were trying to terminate grandpa's bloodline WITH RESPECT to inheritance polymorphism, because I was an astute life sciences including genetics student; you are getting catalized in your own reaction trying to exterminate the dunn family. All the coopers and the yellow and what was before and what will be after, speak to this not being a live and let live situation. And I was never on any of the sides)

So *what did FJ guy do* after an era of plomo o Plata had passed and Oregon was like a united nations of drug cartels?

[violetswritingg]

Canary Cry

Robin/Nightwing (Dick Grayson) x OFC!

Description: Her violence was silent. Until it wasn't.

"I'm fine."

"Fine is just another word for drowning."

Rating T-M (mentions of blood, child abuse, mental health, cannon situations of violence and the like. Loss of parents, hard of hearing/deaf character, poorly written fight scenes lol)

Want to read the other chapters?

Click here

6

STAR CITY

August 3, 06:00 PDT

"Kate! Breakfast!" Dinah called from over the stove, fumbling with scrambled eggs and toast after a morning training session. Her hair damp from the shower she had snuck in before Kate locked herself in the bathroom. Dinah didn't particularly want to dive into what incidence created that faucet of behavior in Kate but knew they would have to at some point.

The summoned girl appeared in a tank top and lounge shorts, hopping up to the counter and taking the plate Dinah slid to her with a proud smile. The woman didn't cook all that often for herself before taking in Kate so the fact that she didn't burn the eggs again made her happy. Kate didn't really mind when they were burned though, she used to eat out of dumpsters so it would suffice to say her palette isn't all that refined. And the fact that Dinah made her anything to begin with is enough of a reason for her to scarf whatever is put in front of her down.

Dinah watched Kate eat with a small smile, offering the girl seconds when she cleared her plate. The girl accepting when pushed slightly by Dinah. The two enjoying the peaceful silence, only the sound of Kate's utensils scraping against her plate and Dinah's nails tapping against her coffee mug filling the space.

"I wanted to talk to you about something." Kate froze, her fork halfway to her mouth, a spark of fear in her eyes as she glanced at Dinah. "Nothing bad, just a question and some news." The woman clarified when she realized how her words had been taken.

"Okay..." Kate trailed off. Sitting her fork down, appetite lost to anxiety.

"So, you remember when we talked about some schools here and other places for you to start this next term. We got word back from a couple." Dinah set her mug down in front of her and leaned forward on her elbows at the edge of the table. Kate swallowed harshly and nodded, mouth turned down in a frown.

"I know you wanted to stay local instead of zeta tubing to another city-"

"Because the time-zone difference between here and the Cave is already bad enough." Kate chimed in, earning a warning look from Dinah and quieting the girl again.

"Starlight Prep said they'd take you." Kate, while she knew the school's reputation didn't know how she felt about it. It was a school for the wealthy, for the top one percent of Star City. It was a school that Oliver had gone to for high school. It was a school that people would know who she was, at least the rumors of her existence.

Pictures of one of her outings with Oliver and Dinah made into some magazine publications a couple months back, none with her face, and most of them got quashed by Oliver but a few still made it to print. The next step in the once famous Bachelor's relationship with the little flower shop owner and psychologist a big thing in the press and high society circles.

Kate was fully aware that the only reason the school was taking her was because Oliver was paying her tuition. Which put a weight on her shoulders to be a good representation of him and to be a good student – something she had never been before. It was also a place where she would be surrounded with people from a completely different world. She wasn't going to fit in. She knew that. And if she managed to make any friends most of them would probably only want to be friends because of her connection to Oliver.

In short, it wasn't her first choice. But it's what Dinah and Oliver wanted, and they put their foot down about Kate going back to her old school. Their arguments being it would be filled with people from her past, which wasn't ideal but it was familiar territory, and that she didn't really go to school much when she was supposedly in attendance. Which wasn't Kate's fault, they didn't want to hear it though.

So, Kate gave in, reluctantly, because she knew that Dinah and Oliver only wanted the best for her. Probably the only two people she's ever had in her life that wanted that.

Kate could tell there was something else Dinah had to say, so the girl waited patiently as she could, her leg bouncing under the table.

"There's some paperwork we need to fill out together, including... your name. I know that the adoption paper work hasn't gone through just yet but I wanted to ask you if you wanted to continue to go by your last name." Dinah was on edge, she didn't show it much, but couldn't hide it from Kate like she could from other people.

"What other last name would I go by?" Kate slowly pushed out, testing the waters.

"Lance." Dinah breathed, "Only if you want to though-"

"Kate... Lance," Kate tried it out, weighting the sound in her head and finding a piece of her chest getting warm. "Can I think about it?"

"Of course, take as much time as you need. And don't feel like you have to, I won't be offended if you say no." Dinah made sure to make it clear, reaching forward and laying a soft hand on Kate's wrist and squeezing gently.

"Thanks." Kate breathed, giving the woman her best grin. Going back to her food, playing with it more than eating it.

"One last thing." Dinah's lips started to flit up at the corner's. The woman got up and left the kitchen, disappearing down the hallway leading to her bedroom. Coming back in less than a minute with a black case. Dinah beckoned Kate over to her side of the counter with a grin, clicking open the case and flipping the top open.

Kate's eyes blew wide, darting between the view in front of her and her mentor. A smile of her own growing by the second.

"It looks good." Dinah threw an arm around Kate's shoulders, pressing a kiss into the teens hair, "You have an eye for design."

Holding up the dark brown armored top of her new suit, which Kate helped deign this time around, her smile threatened to split her face in half. Yeah, it wasn't her old suit, it was a completely new design but it was hers and it was awesome.

Kate's hands found the golden choker and both her and Dinah took in how it reflected the overhead light of the kitchen. The moment being interrupted by Dinah's phone going off, the tone specific to that of a distress call from Oliver.

Kate quickly shit the suit and looked to Dinah for instruction. The woman's eyebrows furrowing before she looked back to Kate.

~~*~~

MOUNT JUSTICE

August 3, 12:45 EDT

Kate had taken to the library like a fish to water, finding a well-stocked mix of fiction and non-fiction among the room and it's two levels filled with full shelves. If she wasn't in the kitchen, or in the main entrance which also tripled as their training and mission briefing room, she was in the library. Curled up in her corner in the very back of the second level.

In this instance, fuming and trying to get lost in the brand new story in her hands.

"GF?" Robin's voice echoed and the blonde shut her eyes and huffed in annoyance. "GF?! I know you're in here. I hacked the Cave's security system." Of course, he did. The girl shut her book with a quiet thud and made her way back to the main part of the library, leaning her elbows on the balcony railing as she looked down on the Boy Wonder with a frown.

"What do you want Bird boy?"

"So, this is where you always disappear too," He dodged the question, making his way up the staircase, stopping next to the blonde. "Hawthorne Bridge, nice." He read the cover of her book. Kate's face flamed as she hid the book behind her back.

"What do you want?" The blonde stressed.

"To see if you were okay." Robin shrugged, like it was no big deal. Kate straightened her posture awkwardly.

"I'm fine."

"You always say that."

"Because I'm always fine."

"Right." Robin said gently, taking note of how Kate reacted. The pause in her breathing, how she blinked twice, how her mouth turned down fractionally at the corners before righting itself. Responding while looking at him in the same calculating way.

"Right."

"Come on GF, talk to me. We're friends, aren't we?" The blonde hesitated, Robin frowning more by the second. "Finch?"

She leaned on the railing again, playing with the corner of the hardback book in her hands. Seeing the Boy Wonder frown like that did something really strange to her, it looked so unnatural. So unlike Robin. "We're teammates." She corrected.

"Okay, we're teammates then, and as your teammate it is my duty to make sure you're okay."

Kate tensed and a moment of silence passed between them before she relaxed again. The grin that spread over the Boy Wonder's lips as bright as the sun and completely infectious.

"BC benched me from some attack in Star." The girl admitted bitterly, getting quiet, "She all but dismissed me like some secretary." Robin could see the turmoil on her face.

"Bats does that too. Basically, anytime the Joker or Harley Quinn come up." Robin chuckled, as if he hadn't just dropped two serious names. But Kate took what he said, that's all he cared about.

"Really?"

"Yeah, you bet. It's so annoying, but I know he's doing it because he cares you know? BC was probably just worried about your side."

"It's fine though." Kate huffed, which was more or less true. She still had stitches in right now, and Dinah hadn't exactly dialed down their training, but Kate could tell she had been going a little easier on her. Which was frustrating, but Kate couldn't do anything about it.

"Right," Robin chirped, shifting his eyes to her book, "Which book is this one?", grabbing the novel out of her hands before she could protest and he flipped through it.

"Hey!" Robin ducked out of reach from her reaching hands, full on laughing as he started a game of keep away. "Rob, seriously, give it back!" The boy stopped, seeing that he had taken things a bit too far. Kate's face almost the same shade as a cherry, her hands clenching by her sides, neck tendons straining as if she wanted to scream but was holding back.

"Sorry, I was just trying-"

"I don't care what you were trying to do. Just give me my book and leave me alone." Kate all but snatched the book away from him when he offered it back to her. Stomping back to her spot hidden away, leaving Robin to sigh in defeat and shake his head at himself as he left.

Plopping back down in her little alcove, she ran her fingers over every centimeter of the book's surface. Opening the front cover and ever so lightly running a finger over the short penned inscription.

Happy Birthday idiot.

Roy.

She had wanted to burn the thing when she first got it, pulling it off an arrow stuck to her window. She knew who it was from the moment she saw it, and she wanted nothing to do with it. But then her curiosity got the best of her and... and that's how she ended up crying on the bottom of the shower for twenty minutes.

It was the newest book in the series, that hadn't been published yet but was set to in the next couple of months. To push away thoughts of why Roy would still give it to her, even after he had fully cut ties with everyone else, she focused on wondering how he got it in the first place.

~~*~~

Kate's reading was interrupted by her phone chirping at her.

Dinah: Get ready to train, I'll be there in ten.

Kate huffed but headed to the locker room anyway and got changed. The short sleeve, Kevlar tri-polymer, compression top was layered under an armored yet still flexible leather-like mock corset. The straps going over her deceptively small shoulders and contrasting with the deep matte brown of the compression top.

The shiny quality catching the light along with the golden belt around her waist, connecting her top to her shorts and thigh holsters for her batons. Protective pseudo-sheer black tights underneath and tucking into the tactical boots she wore, which hid plenty of things in their hidden and unhidden compartments.

Pulling up the long, padded, gloves that stopped a few inches under her sleeve, Kate brushed invisible dust from her arms. Fixing little things with the suit and completing it with the cropped, armored leather jacket that Dinah added at the last minute. The yellow-gold angular patches over the shoulder and elbow pads along with the two accent stripes around her biceps complementing her belt, choker, and added accents along the side of her boots. The back of the Jacket being adorned with a golden outline of wings.

The finishing touches being her updated mask, looking a lot like Robin's domino mask with its white lenses. Which were connected to some kind of computer chip, and would allow her to do all kinds of stuff. And then the cherry on top, the golden choker around her neck.

She did miss her old suit, just because it was something that Dinah had taken the time and energy to make for her. It was what Star had come to recognize her by, but she wasn't complaining at the upgrade. This was something she had worked on, which she didn't realize would mean as much as it did. It allowed her to put her own mark on Goldfinch, it allowed her to make the alter ego a bit more her own.

Superboy passed by Kate as she entered to main part of the cave they used for training and mission briefings. Which was also where they seemed to be using the holo-computer as an air-hockey table.

"Woah, nice upgrade Goldie." Wally grinned upon seeing the girl, his smile quickly turning into a smirk as he elbowed Robin, "Don't you think so Rob?".

The boy coughed, sending a glare at his best friend, Kate simply ignoring them. The girl instead looking to the figures approaching from the shadows.

"Ready for training everyone?" Kate crossed her arms over her chest and sunk into her hip as the voice of her mentor echoed around the cave.

"Black Canary, Uncle J'onn!" Miss M said with a smile on her face, running over to give her uncle a hug. Kate only pursed her lips. The opposite reactions not flying under anyone's radar.

"What, no hug for me?" Canary asked sarcastically, a smirk on her face as she raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow at her protégé. Finding her pouting downright hilarious.

"M'gann, I was in the neighborhood so I'd thought I see how you are adjusting?" Martian Manhunter asked his niece.

"A few bumps, but I'm learning!" Miss M said enthusiastically, Kate wondered if the girl knew what a frown was. Never having seen the expression cross her face in the time they'd known each other.

"That's all I can ask."

Canary noticed Superboy trying to make a break for it, which is exactly what Kate would be attempting if she didn't know it only resulted in a harsher training session. The woman saying "If you think you don't need to train then show me you don't. Prove it."

It never ended well.

For Kate, it never ended well for Kate. Dinah, on the other hand, would have a ball, laying her out on the mat again and again. Teasing her mercilessly the next morning as she stiffly made her way into the kitchen for breakfast.

"Stick around, class is in session," The woman walked to the center of the circle on the ground. The computer booting up and lighting up under Dinah's boots. "I consider it an honor to be your teacher, I'll thrown a lot at you, everything I've learned from my mentors," Black Canary grunted quietly when she shed her jacket, a bandage wrapped around her bicep that made Kate forget her anger. "And my own bruises."

"What happened? Are you okay?" Kate couldn't stop herself from asking, a deep frown on her face, worry shining in her eyes behind her mask.

"The job, and yes finch, I am," BC breezed, Kate tried to calm down, letting the knowledge that if Dinah was seriously injured, she wouldn't be here. Oliver would have locked her in the Arrowcave and forced her to rest after patching her up. Unless he was also injured or worse-

Stop it.

"Now, combat is about controlling conflict, putting the battle on your terms. You should always be acting, never reacting."

Dinah's speech brought back memories for Kate; she had given the teen the same speech their first training session. It took a little time for the message to sink in, but she eventually got it, "I'll need a sparring partner." The older blonde looked directly at Kate with a challenge in her eyes and the teen sighed under her breath. Great. Kate could feel the teams eyes on her as she stepped forward, sweat starting to form under her gloves on her palms.

"Right here yeah!" KF spoke up, mouth full of banana as he walked onto the platform, saving Kate from almost guaranteed humiliation. If the speedster wasn't so annoying Kate would have hugged him.

The blonde stepped back in line, Robin nudging her good side gently with his elbow. Testing the waters after earlier, his smirk clashing against her narrowed eyes.

"After this, swoosh," Wally threw away the banana he was eating, "I'll show you my moves."

Kate's nose scrunched up in disgust, her mask following the movement of her eyebrows as they collided in the middle of her face. The woman gave the speedster no warning before attacking, him blocking her punch but letting his feet get swept out from under him.

Kate laughed at the sight, a loud snort coming from the girl who dissolved into quiet chuckles poorly hidden behind her hand. A glowing ring surrounding the boy on the ground. Aqualad's attempts at getting her to stop laughing failing miserably, only spurring her on.

Kid Flash status: FAIL

Watching Dinah do that to someone other than her was in her top five best things she had ever seen.

"Ow, hurts so good." Kate rolled her eyes at the speedster.

"Good block, but did anyone see what he did wrong?" Dinah complimented the red-head, asking the team to see if they were paying attention.

"Oh, Oh, he hit on teacher and got served?" Robin asked over enthusiastically, his sarcasm obvious, glancing at a smiling Kate out of the corner of his eye.

"Or he just went against teacher in the first place." The blonde teen could barely get out.

"Guys!" Wally groaned holding his shoulder and looking at them with wide, betrayed eyes.

"Or," Kate instantly sobered, recognizing the tone of her mentor's tone, "He allowed me to dictate the terms of the-"

"Oh please," Superboy interrupted Dinah, Kate's eyes widening in alarm before narrowing at the clone. "With my powers the battle's always on my terms, I'm a living weapon, and this is a waste of my time."

"Prove it." Kate visibly winced at those words.

"This should be interesting." The blonde muttered as KF smartly backed up, Kate even taking a step back when Superboy walked up to her mentor, the two commencing a stare off before Canary had the clone on his back in a second flat.

This time Kate didn't laugh like Robin, knowing exactly how Superboy felt right now. But also, appreciative that Dinah hasn't had the opportunity to do it to her yet.

"You're angry, good, but don't react. Channel that anger-"

"I know your frustrated Kate, you're angry. Use it. Channel it into action, don't react!" Dinah called to the blonde who rushed at her, seeing red. When Kate was close enough her mentor launched herself up, using Kate's shoulder's like a spring board and flipping behind her, elbowing the teen in the back before going low and sweeping her feet out from under her.

"Can you do that?" Robin asked quietly, his laughter calming down slightly, his voice pulling the Kate from the past. The girl raising her brows in his direction, a subtle smirk on her lips. Turning back to the sparring league member and clone. Robin clearing his throat and doing the same.

"That's it! I'm done!" Kate heard her own voice overlap Superboy's in her head. Superboy rejecting Canary's offer of help up again and turning his back to her.

"Training is mandatory," Dinah gently said, the hand she placed on the clone's shoulder being shrugged off as a beeping filled the room. A large holo-screen of Batman popping up just outside the no longer glowing circle.

"Batman to the cave. Four hours ago, a new menace attacked Green Arrow and Black Canary. The attacker was capable of studying and duplicating the abilities of its opponents. Arrow called in reinforcements which nearly proved disastrous as our foe gained power with each new combatant."

Kate looked to Dinah, who sent a small smile her way, and Kate's anger directed towards her mentor vanished completely. She was still upset, just for a different reason now. Ultimately though, she was just happy they were relatively okay.

She had just fully let them in, they were her family, the only people who ever cared about her, to lose them now after she just got them... To lose them ever? She couldn't even think about it. Not without wanting to either cry, punch something, or scream. Or all three.

"Woah, one guy with the powers of the entire League?" Wally gasped, Kate and the other's feeling the same shock.

"In the end, it took eight Leaguers four hours to defeat and dismantle the android." Batman continued.

"Android? Who made it T.O. Morrow?" Robin asked, stepping closer to the screen.

"Good guess Robin, but Red Tornado doesn't think so." Kate noticed Superboy look down, his jaw clenching tightly.

"The technology bares the signature of... Professor Ivo." Manhunter grimly announced. Making most of the room fill with shock.

"I thought he was dead." Kate spoke up, her mask's eyes narrowing along with her own.

"So, did we... or hoped." Canary looked over her shoulder at her protégé with a grim smile.

"To make certain this threat is permanently neutralized we are sending trucks, carrying the android's parts, to two STAR Labs facilities in Boston and New York for immediate evaluation. Every precaution is being taken, we'll have four additional trucks to create confusion should Ivo, or anyone, tries to recover the remains," Okay, why tell us this? Kate internally questioned, "You will split into undercover teams to safe guard to two real trucks."

That's why Kate. That's why.

"Yes! Road trip!" Wally cheered.

"So now we take out your trash?" Superboy asked, obviously not very keen on the mission.

"You have something better to do?" Batman asked, voice as gravely as ever. Superboy standing down under the pressure of the infamous Batglare.

"Coordinates received, on our way." Aqualad said, holding a tablet with their destination on the screen as a blinking red dot. Kate hanging back a bit while everyone took off to the hanger, watching Dinah stop Superboy and say something to him before he walked off.

Manhunter dismissed himself, leaving the two blondes alone. Kate closing the distance and asking, "Are you really, okay? What about GA?" Dinah softened and reached for Kate's hair. Petting it back behind her ears, exposing her hearing aids to the light of the cave.

"I'm okay, just a little banged up. But I'll live. I promise. Green Arrow is the same, he's back in the AC resting."

"You should be resting too." Kate huffed, Dinah only chuckled and gently pushed on her shoulders. Nudging her in the direction the rest of the team went.

"I will. You need to go, be careful, okay?"

"I will. Promise." Kate followed Dinah's prompting and jogged out of the room.

~~*~~

[editorandchief]

Hell Hath No Fury | Billy Hargrove

Summary: "The villain is the person who knows the most but cares the least."

Warning: Age gap relationship, Cheating, Grooming?

Requested: No

Being FWB's with Billy was complicated, I knew that he wasn't looking for anything serious and neither was I at the time but that was three months ago and I started to think that maybe things were getting more serious. That was until Billy started ghosting me and cancelling meet ups last minute. I had no idea why...until now.

Riding my bike down the street on my way to let Jonathan Byers borrow my camera when I heard the familiar sound of an engine, stopping my bike I see Billy's car slowly pulling  up to the Wheeler house with his head lights turned off. 

Stepping off my bike I pulled it into the bushed while I crouched down low as to not be seen by Billy and the person in his passenger seat. I watched as Billy exited the car walking quickly over to the passenger side he opened the door and out stepped...Mrs. Wheeler.

I felt like my heart was about to leap out of my chest, it felt like someone was pushing down on my stomach as it became heard to breath. Watching as he leaned his body over hers as her back was pressed against his car. This? This was why he was blowing you off? 

I don't know why I reached for my camera, why I took the pictures of the two engaged in a heated lip lock, smiling at each other before the mother of three returned to her blissfully unaware family. 

One Week Later

This feeling was something new for me, I had no idea what it was but what I did no was that it didn't go away, it didn't fade. 

It lasted. It lasted as I developed the photos in my basement. It lasted as I ran through all of my dad's printer paper in his office making copies of the two best ones. It lasted while I was riding my bike around town leaving one in every mailbox I came across like I was the fucking paper boy. It last when I got up extra early this morning to get to school and leave one taped to every locker and wall until I had no more. 

But it simmered now as I sat on the bleacher of the football field watching as people started showing up for school. 

First it was the teacher I wondered how they would react to the photos tapes to the surfaces, if they would attempt to take them down before the students arrived, mw knowing they would never succeed. 

Then you fellow student began arriving not knowing what they were walking into, cause even if they managed to get all the photos from the walls there would be no way to get them from inside of the lockers. 

After an hour I decided to enter the school, partly hoping that this may get school cancelled seeing as I was working on the three hours of sleep I got from a nap the day before. 

Walking down the hall I see multiple groups of students all speaking in hushed voiced holding something I didn't have to guess about, some laughed and giggled while others just showed looks of disgust, disappointment, envy maybe. Slowly but surely more and more people came in as they all shared the same look of confusion and curiosity before they realized what it was that they were seeing as I stood absently with my locker open watching as the first of my dominos fell. 

"What the fuck is this?!" You heard from down the hall as you turned you head from inside your locker. "How the fuck did this?!" Billy asked as he looked around angry, clenching one of the papers in his hand, I must have zoned out cause I didn't even see him come in.

Billy stomped down the hall repeating his question as he snatched any paper from anyone he saw.

I think he took someone's math homework.

The hall remained silent as no one spoke up to take credit because none of them had done it and though I didn't know exactly what Billy would do, I didn't put it past him to react with violence. Eventually Billy gave up looking for the culprit and stormed out of school before the sound of his tires screeching faded away from the school.

All day it was the only thing anyone could talk about, that unknown feeling was now replaced with a very known one. Boredom.

Which paved room for thoughts.

Thoughts like how Nancy Wheeler now has to worry about of her parents will divorce instead or focusing on collage applications next year.

Thoughts like now Mike Wheeler who is already a social pariah of sorts may never make new friends due to parents not wanting their sons to fall victim to Karen 'The Cougar' Wheeler. 

Like how Holly Wheeler probably won't understand why her house is falling apart.

Thoughts like how Neil Hargrove will be pissed when he finds out and he'll be mean to Billy and when Neil is mean to Billy, Billy is mean to Max and she and her mother didn't deserve that. 

But Ted Wheeler didn't deserve to be cheated on, right?

At the end of the day it didn't really matter, It's not like feeling bad (Even though I didn't) would change anything.

Karen Wheeler knew that cheating on her husband with a high school teen was pretty shitty, but she did it anyways.

Billy knew sleeping with a married woman was a shitty thing to do, but he did it anyways.

I knew spreading those pictures around town instead of just telling Ted Wheeler was a shitty thing to do but......Anyways. 

Anyways people do all kinds of things when they are mad, Billy knew that better than anyone, but I wasn't just mad this was more than anger. I was..I was...Furious.

Fury.  

[wri0thesley]

A Well Rounded Education (1): Suspension (Fem!Reader x Toji Fushiguro, 5k)

series synopsis: You are a teacher’s aid to teacher Gojo Satoru, training to be able to take over your own class next year by shadowing and helping him out. Gojo does not make things easy for anybody.

chapter synopsis: One of your favourite students has been suspended for fighting, and Gojo has palmed off the meeting with his guardian to go through all of the paperwork and facts and conditions on you. “Don’t worry,” Gojo says. “It’ll be Megumi’s sister, she always takes care of this kind of stuff!”. Gojo is wrong.

NSFW. AFAB reader, fem pronouns. dom/sub dynamics, light fearplay and predator/prey elements. piv sex.

(a well rounded education m.list and navigation)

1.

“I’ve got all these other parents to deal with,” Gojo whines at you, pushing the papers into your hands. “And I hate paperwork, and I don’t have time to meet with Megumi’s family today – hell, if it were up to me, the kid wouldn’t even be suspended! Those guys had it coming!”

Gojo is not a very good teacher. Both of you know that – no matter how justified – violence never solves violence. Gojo, you think, would let these kids fight it out in an arena instead of solving things like an adult. You heave a large sigh as you look down at the papers detailing Megumi Fushiguro’s three-day suspension for fighting during school hours.

You’d seen Megumi before he’d gone home. He hadn’t had so much as a scratch on him; his face set in a frown, his arms crossed, his eyes downcast. You’d sighed at him and asked him if he was alright, and he’d shrugged.

He’s not a very talkative boy at the best of times, and you suppose that the suspension and the fight and the mini uproar it had caused in the school aren’t helping be any more verbose. You’d said goodbye to him and said that you hoped he thought about what had transpired today, your heart aching a little bit that you couldn’t be any more help to him.

You’d seen the three boys Megumi had got into a fight with, too. They had not gotten off so scot-free – they were bleeding noses, scraped cheeks, bruised eyes. At the very least, you don’t think any of them will get on Megumi’s wrong side again.

Gojo has to meet with all three of their parents tonight to give them the full story of why their children are so roughed up and what’s being done about it; a position that’s been doled out to him, you’re sure, because Principal Masamichi blames him for the incident and is punishing him. You can’t deny that seeing Gojo actually get punished for something is nice, but--

“Won’t they be mad to see me instead of you?” You ask him, biting your lip. “I mean . . . you’re his teacher. I’m just your aid.”

“Oh,” Gojo’s eyebrows rise behind his glasses. “No, it’ll be Megumi’s sister who’ll come, she’s a sweetheart! She’ll nod at you and say mournfully that she’ll talk to him and you’ll give her the paperwork, and that’s all – job done! Honestly, if I could palm this off on you and talk to Tsumiki instead, I’d do it in a heartbeat--”

“This is your job,” you tell him, exasperated, and he laughs wide and open. You’re not really supposed to get like this with him – if he were any other teacher, you’re sure that the exasperation and sighing and half-snapping you do would have had you thrown out of their class – but Gojo treats your irritation with him as if it’s the funniest thing that has ever happened. “You’re supposed to be good at dealing with this kind of thing!”

He shrugs.

“You’ll be fine!” He tells you, again. “Honestly, this isn’t the first time this has happened with Megumi and it won’t be the last. That kid’s got a right hook that could knock out an elephant!”

You do not ask him how he knows this. Asking too many questions of Gojo is always flirting with danger; you never know when his mouth will flash into a grin and you’ll suddenly be barraged with a flood of words and stories that don’t quite make sense and never seem to have a concrete end. But you can’t resist one last question – just in case it comes up. After all, it seems that Gojo has spoken to Tsumiki enough times for him to at least kind of know her--

“His sister?”

Gojo looks at you, and for a moment the shroud of capricious energy lifts from him, and he seems entirely serious. You’ve noticed this particular change in him only a few times – and often, those times have been about the more difficult backstories of students.

“His father isn’t around very often,” he says, eventually. “He’s some kind of something or other, Megumi never really says, but whatever he does, there’s a lot of travelling involved. Tsumiki’s his older sister – she’s twenty one, and she’s been more of a parent to him than it seems like his dad has.”

No wonder Megumi always seems suspicious and tired of Gojo. Something about his flighty nature probably strokes the back of Megumi’s psyche, where annoyances about an absent father are kept. You sigh, turning away and shaking your head to rid yourself of the idea of psychoanalysing the students.

“Alright,” you say wearily. “I’ll talk to Tsumiki.”

2.

You’re nervous as you set up for the meeting. You know Gojo had said that this would be easy, that Tsumiki was very sweet and would probably apologise to you for Megumi being a problem – but still! This is the first time you’ve ever met any of your students’ guardian figures in any capacity. You feel kind of bad that it had to be for this kind of news, actually – ordinarily, you like Megumi a lot. He’s very intense and serious and clever, and you think that he has a bright future ahead of him when the trials of being a twelve year old boy finally are over – but this meeting isn’t for saying things like that. This meeting is for giving details of the three day suspension that Megumi has gotten for – you check the paperwork again – fighting three boys by himself on one of the sports courts, making them bleed and . . . breaking one of their arms? No wonder Gojo had seemed so miserable at the thought of meeting with the victims’ parents.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair, making sure that it still sits as neatly as you’d arranged it that morning. You check the clock to see you still have two minutes before anyone is due – you discreetly check your lipstick in a compact mirror (yesterday you’d had it on your teeth and you hadn’t realised until Mai had pointed it out with a laugh in her voice), smooth out your pencil skirt, tug at your stockings to make sure they’re pulled up and not wrinkling about your ankles . . .

And then, you wait.

The clock is straight across from you, so you’re able to see as Tsumiki is five minutes late, and then ten minutes late, and then fifteen. The tick-tock echoes in the room as your leg bounces against the floor, anxiety making you want to gnaw all of the carefully applied lipstick off of your mouth. From what Gojo had said, this doesn’t sound like Tsumiki at all – you’re just about to give up and pack all of your things away, figuring maybe she’d called into the office to say she couldn’t make it and telling you had been neglected, when the door slams open.

You rush to your feet, your sensible heels clacking on the ground.

“Miss Fushi--”

Your voice peters away.

The person stood in the doorway is, you’re certain, absolutely not Tsumiki Fushiguro.

For one thing, it’s a man. For another thing . . . well. You’re not entirely sure that a man with that expression on his face would ever be described to anyone as a ‘sweetheart’. Your frightened eyes linger on him for another moment, really taking in the broad shoulders and the muscles and the hair falling over his face, the dark, green eyes that are glaring at you like you’ve interrupted something very important. There’s a scar by his mouth that you also do your best not to stare at, just in the same way you avoid staring at how the form-fitting t-shirt he’s wearing clings to a muscled abdomen.

“It’s Mr, actually,” he says, which seems absurd in the face of him, standing there. He raises one eyebrow at you. “You were expecting my daughter, right?”

(You don’t know it, but Toji Fushiguro has gotten a read on you in less than a moment. He’s seen the wide eyes and the pretty mouth and the neatly appointed outfit, the pencil tucked behind your ear, the slightest tremble faced with his imposing presence – the fear as you’d seen the scar and the smoulder and the body. You’re adorable.)

“I . . . uuh--” Your cheeks are hot. You nod, weakly, and he walks into the room proper, the door swinging shut behind him with a deafening click. There’s danger in every one of this man’s movements, like a wolf who has finally cornered a little rabbit. You are feeling inexorably like prey, at this moment in time.

“I was expecting a man,” he says, shrugging. He sits at the chair in front of Gojo’s desk, pulled up just for him. He looks huge in the classroom; his shoulders too wide, his biceps bulging from the sleeve of the shirt. You don’t think this man was intending to be in a school classroom right now. “I guess you’re not Mr Gojo, huh? Gotta say,” he shoots you a grin that’s dangerous, everything about him is threatening. “I much prefer this development.”

“Oh,” you’re blustering, and it’s so cute. You sit back down in the chair with a quiet displacement of air, agitation in your fingers as you rake through the papers on the desk. Said desk is incredibly messy; Toji doesn’t think it’s yours. He ought to feel mad that they’ve palmed him off on some little assistant who’s probably not even fully qualified yet – instead, he’s watching your hands trembling and your teeth nibbling on your pretty mouth. “Y-yes, G-Gojo’s dealing with the parents of the other party--”

“My kid got into a fight, yeah?” He asks. “Decked ‘em pretty good, from what I heard.” You wince at his words, and that’s cute too.

“Megumi’s a good boy,” you say. “He’s just . . . got his own sense of justice, I think.” You look down at the papers, and your eyes seem to focus, back in a more comforting zone. “He’s been suspended for three days, and when he comes back, he’s on probation.”

“What’s that mean for him?” Toji asks, promptly, though something about the way he says it suggests to you he doesn’t really care. There’s a lightness, an airiness in his tone that sets you all off-kilter.

“It just means we’ll probably keep an especial eye on him. He’ll get a report that’ll need signing off on at the end of every period, someone will check up on it--” You see one of Gojo’s scrawled notes in the margin of the paperwork. You wince. “I’ll be in charge of it, actually. Making sure everyone’s happy with his behaviour for a few weeks--”

“How old are you, sweetheart?”

The question makes you jump. You’re like a doe in headlights, looking up at him. You blink slowly.

“I—I don’t think that’s an appropriate question, Mr Fushiguro,” you say, prim. That’s cute, too. He likes breaking prim and proper things like you. “I’m—I’m doing my training. I’m working as an aid here for a year, and then I’ll be qualified to be in charge of my own class.” There’s a hint of pride in your words, there.

“Toji,” he says. “That’s my name. You haven’t gotta call me ‘Mr Fushiguro’. I’m not tryna’ be pushy,” but he’s inched forward. His elbows are resting on Gojo’s desk, in front of you – he rests his chin on his folded hands, sharp eyes regarding you as if you’re something he wants to devour. “Y’just look tense.”

“This is the first time I’ve met a student’s parent,” you admit, though the minute it’s left your mouth you’re regretting it. Like you’re admitting to some kind of weakness. This close to him, you can see there’s a dark red stain on one of his wrists, like dried blood. Your stomach is tying itself in knots. It’s not helping that his forearms are so big, ridged with muscle.

“That so?” His eyes gleam. “What d’ya think of me?”

You don’t actually need to answer him. He can see it in the way your eyes keep nervously skimming over him. The way your lips are shining in the light. The bob of your throat as you swallow.

“Mr Fushiguro--”

“I told you to call me Toji,” his voice is almost mocking. You watch him lean over the table like you’re somewhere far away from the action – watch his hand reach out and cup your face, calloused thumb brushing your cheek, like you’re a ghost in the corner of the room. His palms feel like they’re burning hot. “You’re tremblin’, little lamb.”

You had thought you’d felt like a rabbit – shy, ready to run at any moment. But the moment his hand is on you, you’re docile – too scared to scamper away. You suppose you are like a lamb, staring a wolf straight on in the face, too stupid or too pliant to use your common sense and run.

“I . . . I shouldn’t,” you say, voice trembling just as much as the rest of you. Toji’s smirk hasn’t left his face. You’re saying you shouldn’t, but he just bets if he reached further down and unbuttoned your blouse, your nipples would pebble for him – he just bets there’s a wet stain on your underwear, right now. He can always tell when someone’s turned on by the idea of playing with fire.

“I wouldn’t mind spendin’ a few weeks with you in charge of me,” he muses, and then chuckles humourlessly, correcting himself. “Sorry. Lemme rephrase that. I’d rather be in charge of you, but--”

Oh, he sees that. The little flash in your eyes, an imperceptible contract of your shoulders. If you weren’t behind the desk, he bets he’d have seen your thighs press together too. Girls like you are just so fucking predictable, and he loves it every single time. There’s just something that’s so much fun about breaking them – making them submit, admit that him being so close with the scent of something-that-might-be-death clinging to him turns them on like nothing else. Your attempts at being haughty and polite and proud have just made the stirring between his thighs harder to ignore. You’re such a cute, neat, demure little thing – by the end of this meeting, he’s going to have his way with you, you bet.

“M-Mr Fushiguro,” you say, trying to wrest back control of yourself – honestly, he’s pissed you aren’t listening to him, but the title’s kind of endearing. You’re trying so hard! Pity you’re going to lose all of your manners when you’re bent over this desk with his cock inside you. You haven’t even moved your face away from his hand. “I-I have to give you these papers.”

He stands up, pulling his own touch away from your cheek. Stretches. Your eyes are drawn to the brief expanse of his stomach, just above his trousers – the dark line of hair leading down to . . . Oh, God. You shouldn’t have thought about that. The grin on his face is cocky, and you know that he knows you were looking.

“I’m just gonna throw ‘em in the trash, sweetheart,” he says to you. “Now. Let’s talk about the elephant in the room, yeah?” He steps closer to you. You totter to your feet, half-unsure, half driven by the low ache between your legs and the thrum of desire that’s been reverberating through you since the moment he’d carelessly thrown out how much happier he was to see you than Gojo. You have to tilt your head up a little when he comes closer. You’d thought you realised how massive he was when he’d walked through the door, but that’s nothing compared to how his size seems to dwarf you. Every unkind thought you’ve ever had about your body or your face seems to have gone out of the window as his heated green gaze hungrily drinks you in. You know it’s the stare of some predator who’s going to devour you, and you still feel transformed. Your breath catches in your throat as his hand idly comes to the top of your blouse buttons, a finger brushing the place in your throat where your pulse is beating its unsteady rhythm.

“Whaddya say, little lamb?” He grins down at you. “Gonna let yourself be caught by the big bad wolf?”

You’re supposed to be telling this man about his son’s misbehaviour, giving him all of the paperwork that Gojo had thrust at you, getting him to say he’ll talk to his kid and try and make sure that it won’t happen again. You shouldn’t be tipping your head back further, letting his fingertips lodge dangerously in the hollow of your throat, flirting with the place where your windpipe is. You shouldn’t be breathing out, all of your pretty prissiness and good morals and pride disappearing where you stand in the face of one of your students’ really hot dad.

“Yes,” you breathe.

And Toji wastes no time.

3.

He doesn’t even bother unbuttoning your blouse; just drags his hand down, and the buttons pop off, scattering on the floor. You gasp at the show of strength, and Toji is still grinning, clearly enjoying that you’re admiring him. His hand pulls at the fabric, until your breasts are fair falling out of it, the blouse wrestles off your skin.

“You’re wearin’ something like this at work?” He asks you, giving a tug to the gore of your bra. You hadn’t done enough washing this week, and the one you’re wearing is all filmy white lace. “Almost like you knew I was comin’ huh?” His grin is crooked. You tremble as you reach behind you, undoing the clasp – and for that, you get a murmur of ‘good girl’ that has your knees turning to jelly.

He whistles as the bra drops from you, his gaze admiring. He takes in the spill of your breasts, the little peaks of your nipples. He takes handfuls of them, squeezing them in his big hands, his fingertips digging in so painfully you can imagine that you’ll have bruises in the shape of his fingers tomorrow. The idea doesn’t disgust you.

He lowers his head to kiss you. He’s not gentle with you for a moment – his teeth immediately nip at your bottom lip, kissing you hungrily like you’re the first taste of sugar for a man who’s lived on nothing but bread for months. His tongue licks at your lips, begging entrance – dancing against your own when you helplessly open those same lips, demanding in the exact same way Toji is.

He pinches your nipple between thumb and forefinger, delighting in how quickly the bud hardens. He rolls it between them, toying with it, enjoying the soft noises you make that get caught in his mouth. If he wasn’t kissing you, he thinks, you’d be bleating like a lamb right now. Huffing and whimpering. When he finally gets his cock in you, he’ll have to remember to clap a hand over your mouth so you don’t attract too much attention.

Your other nipple is given the same treatment, hot lightning bolts of pleasure ricocheting from the touch of Toji’s calloused fingers to the spot between your legs. You’re grateful for how solid Toji is – if he were any less so, you’re sure you’d be buckling over where you stand.

He pulls back with a final, marking nip to your lower lip, almost hard enough to make you bleed. You whine, and a dark chuckle spills out of his lips in response.

“Toji,” you whimper as he pulls away. You miss the feel of his body pressed against yours like a physical ache. His hands encircle your thighs, pushing you up onto the edge of Gojo’s desk, clever fingers already pushing your tight pencil skirt up so it’s bunched around your waist.

He kind of misses ‘Mr Fushiguro’ now it’s gone, but the sight of your stockings digging into your thighs soon chases the thought from his mind. He guesses your skirt is more than long and tight enough to make sure nobody gets a glimpse, but oh . . . that you’d be walking around all day, like that, with nobody to fuck you silly--

He can’t help but let his hands knead the soft skin, the flesh, his thumbs imprinting so hard in the plush that you squirm. He’s pressing your thighs apart, now – revealing the modest underwear, the soaking wet patch where he can see the outline of your plump labia lips.

With your legs spread, he can smell how turned on you are. Oh, yeah – he knows your type, alright.

“Ain’t you cute?” He says, chuckling. “You really want me to do you over this desk?”

“You can’t leave me like this--” Your voice is reedy, breathy, almost petulant – at another time, he’d make you beg for it. He’d take his time over you. But although the idea of being caught fucking the cute little teacher’s aid is briefly appealing, he doesn’t really want to make a whole load of trouble for himself when his cock is practically begging to be sheathed inside your wet holes. “Please--”

It’s the please that does it. It’s always the ‘please’ that does it for Toji. He chuckles, smirks, crooked grin – all of it feels like it’s mixing together in your mind, your throat very dry as nothing seems to matter right now except the fact that your sex is practically pulsing with how empty it is, and you think that the hot hard stiffness pressing against your thighs would really help alleviate some of that.

“Aww,” he says, fiddling with his zip and underwear, grabbing his cock and giving it a cursory pump just so you can admire the sheer size of him. “Don’t worry, little lamb. I’ll give ya what you need.”

He gets what he wants. Your eyes, as big and dark as the eyes of a doe – the soft choke of breath as you get to see the size of it, so big his own fingertips don’t quite meet. It’s the kind of cock that could ruin you for somebody else – and you’ve had sex before, of course, but you’ve never taken anything quite like that--

“That’s cute,” Toji murmurs, pressing forward, nestling his slick cock-head between your soaking wet thighs. “Wish you could have seen what a picture your face made just then. Afraid I’m gonna tear you in two?”

He might – he might, you think. But you pout at him and Toji’s cock throbs, as he glides the slick glans through the mess of your arousal, wetting himself even further. Your breath hitches, your hips doing a cute little jerk as it brushes your swollen clit. He can’t help himself but swirl the head over it some more, making your breath catch and whine, bleating like a little lamb--

He sinks his hips forward, and your fingers flex on the edge of the desk, knuckles white, at the relentless sear of his cock driving you open. You feel so stretched out, and he’s barely a third of the way in – he can’t help but watch your expression. He always likes to see someone the first time they’re impaled on his cock – the glassy eyes, slack jaw, the pleasure-cum-pain in their faces. He wants to take a picture of you and keep it in his wallet so he can pump one out to the sight of you when he’s on business trips and too busy to go out and find himself a hole to fuck.

“How’s that feel?” He asks you, so soft and low that you barely catch it. Another slow inch. He lets you feel every ridge, every vein, every bump of his shaft. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“F-full—” you gasp.

“I bet,” Toji replies – and then, he bottoms out inside you. His eyes look down to where the two of you are joined; the slick fluid leaking out of you, all heat and needy. “You fit me like a glove.”

Your cheeks heat at the compliment, at the lewd way he’s looking at your spread open cunt – the way your hole is fluttering around him, the peeking pearl of your clit. He’s studying you like he wants to learn you by heart.

“Head’s up,” he says. “I’m gonna fuck you now.”

You’re about to open your mouth, and ask him what he’s doing right at that moment if he hasn’t started fucking you yet – but then, he’s dragged almost the entire length of his cock out of you in one savage thrust and is immediately spearing it back into you, his pace brutal. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your back hitting the solid, flat surface of Gojo’s desk so that you’re flat out with your thighs wrapped around Toji’s hips.

If he weren’t so entranced by the feel of your walls fluttering around him, trying to suck him in further and deeper, so tight that you’re basically a vice, he’d grab you by your hair and force you to stay seated whilst he fucked you. But right now, you feel so good that all he can think about is his own release. The wet sounds of his cock gliding in and out of you, the squelch of your arousal and slick making every pump easier and easier. You feel so good. You’re tighter than he even imagined you could be, so good that he kind of wants to take you home and have you take up permanent residence in his bed.

You’re moaning, your back arching with every one of his thrusts – taking it admirably. There’s pain in your moans, yes – he supposes he could have prepared you better, had you come on his fingers a couple of times, if time were not of the essence – but they’re the pained moans of someone who likes to be hurt a little bit.

With every rock of his cock inside of you, he hits some new spot that you’ve never had stoked before, makes the heat and need inside of you swim just a little bit closer to the forefront. You don’t even notice you’re moaning and whining until a big hand slaps over your mouth, rough, hot palm against your lips, smearing your lipstick.

“You’re gonna be a good girl and stay quiet,” Toji says to you, through those savage thrusts of his cock inside of you. “You don’t want your . . . your fuckin’ . . . anyone walkin’ in on you being railed by your student’s dad, do you?” You shake your head, but he feels the throb of your cunt around his cock, the way your walls contract, and he adds it to the store of things he’s learning about you. Always the quiet ones, right? Always the proper ones who look as though they’ve never even seen a cock--

The feel of him inside you is absolutely dizzying, so much and so full that you can no longer think. His cock batters against a certain place in your channel, a textured wall – and before you know it, everything is going dizzy and black and white like exploding fireworks, your chest bursting into heat, your inner walls getting so tight around Toji as you come that he thinks you’ll be the one to fucking break him.

Oh, you’re adorable, creaming on his cock – the slick gush of your arousal around him, the dreamy cast in your eye, the fact he can feel you drooling against his palm. He increases the speed of his own thrusts, chasing his release through the weak aftershocks and smaller pulses of you around him, through the over-sensitive squirming of your cute little cunt, the fact that tears are pooling in your eyes at how much everything is suddenly feeling--

He groans and the hand still clinging to your thigh is suddenly pressing so hard you think he’ll snap your bone, ragged breath;

“Fu—fuuuck, sweetheart, you’re gonna take it all, that’s right, good girl--” in between belaboured, ragged pumps, his cock twitching as he manages to pull out at the last moment and his release spills all over your thighs, luridly glistening wet in the overhead fluorescent lights.

That’s another moment he’d take a picture of, if he could.

He’s not the kind of man who waits around. He gives himself ten seconds, to catch his breath, to admire your plush thighs painted with his come, before he’s tucking himself back into his trousers and zipping zippers and doing buttons. He shoves his hands into his pockets, bouncing on the balls of his feet for a second – double checking he’s left nothing of his in the classroom.

Yep. All clear.

He turns to leave, air of cocky confidence back – you only just see the shifting muscles in his back as he turns to go, leaving you where you are. You’re lucky he’s so tall, or you’d probably barely have seen him in front of the door frame (you didn’t even lock the door, anyone could have walked in at any time! You don’t even want to know what Gojo would say if he’d walked in to his aid being fucked like a slut across his desk).

“W-wait,” you say, weakly, still sprawled over the desk with his come cooling on your thighs. You manage to prop yourself up on your elbows, but your entire body feels like it’s just taken a battering. He takes a look back at you from the door, dragging a big hand through his hair, his crooked grin still on his face. You look so pretty like that – all fucked out and messy, the shine taken off of you. “T-the paperwork--”

You’re not sure where said paperwork is. Underneath you, maybe? You hope it didn’t get soaked.

“Told ya’,” he says, dismissively. “I’m just gonna throw it in the trash. Thanks for the fun, sweetheart. See y’around, huh? I should do stuff for the kid’s academic career more often.”

The door slams shut behind him.

[shoutascoffeepot]

Burning Revenge - Bakugou

Warnings: Violence, Violent themes, blood, burning, crushed bones, war-zone, minor spoilers, major character deaths and mentioned nsfw (once).

Themes: Mutual pining, childhood friends to lovers, friends to lovers, fluff, angst and recovery.

Note: I thought of this song while writing the battle scene so.. Have fun?

“I’m not your friend, dumbass.”

Katsuki walked ahead of you to UA on your first day. You two have known each other since childhood, yet he never recognized what you or Izuku were to him. Arrogant. That’s one word people would use to describe him, but as you three grew closely, Izuku’s not-so-subtle analysis contrasted how you’d internally subject and sympathize with the third.

It’s only human decency, you had to put yourself in his shoes, you could almost understand why he didn’t want any distractions. It wasn’t pointless, if anything he was the most sensible of people, most determined and unwavering.

Your peers would villainize his opinions, not sparing a second thought. He doesn’t care, he doesn’t show he cares, but you know him too well to know he does. Albeit it was in a good way, the comments would make him push himself beyond, ‘plus ultra’, or whatever. The insecurities brought out the best in him, his frustration of being inferior, he doesn’t dwell but pushes forward.

Hence, soon enough they understood what makes him special. Katsuki has always been this way, and you’d be watching over him, observing. As your classmates started to realize, how detrimental his mere existence was impacting their own strength. It wasn’t not obvious, even Eraserhead noticed his students were influenced by him.

Katsuki often caught you glimpsing at him, you were sneaky but he had a sense of himself. After all, how could he not know how it feels to be watched? He knows it, he knows exactly what kinda feelings boil in his stomach when he feels your eyes on him. And he knows you admire him, he knows of your feelings.

On that part, you weren’t subte; taking every chance to glance, bringing him food, following him home to talk about trivial things. This hero, that hero, costumes, aspirations, why would he talk back to you? He’s not an idiot; he knows the moment he engages in any kind of deep conversation he’d sell himself out. Once anyone sees the way his eyes glisten and twinkle when he looks at you let alone talk they’d figure it out. Tease him, peer pressure you together, it’s not a distraction you two need on the brink of your heroic careers.

Hence, he shuts you down before you confess, he shuts you out when you try to be friendlier, he shuts away your friendship, shoves away his emotions into a closet and locks it tightly. Useless emotions, stupid butterflies, fucking useless, making him all jittery when all he cared was being number one. Now he wants to be the strongest to be able to protect everyone, he wants to protect you.

Fuck you, really. Look at the effect you took on him without you even realizing it. He hates it, every cell of his being is pathetic, he sees you hanging out with other guys, he burns inside out, his heart is ashes in place. He doesn’t say anything and convinces himself it’s for the best. But how long is he really patient?

‘It’s just hormones.

It’s just a crush.

It’ll go away.

It’ll dilute with time.

It’ll go once we’re adults.

I’m just a teenager.’

But when his eyes fall on your frame. A different story is told.

‘She’s beautiful.

She’s kind.

She’s warmhearted.

She’s funny.

She’s strong.

She’s nurturing.

She’s generous.

She’s everything I am not.

I hate her.’

Stop lying.

‘I can’t stand her.’

So you’ll let her be someone else’s?

…

He imagined it too well, it’d distract him sometimes but he poured his frustrations back to training. Nearing graduation he realized, he won’t have the privilege to see you with a free pass for most of his days. Eight hours at school and Extra time after school, he realized the luxury he was in. But once you two would graduate the roads would separate. Unless he did something about it.

It’s really cold outside today isn’t it? Of course, It’s almost the new year. Katsuki insisted on you walking with him while the class was still too busy with new year eve preparations. Your nose ran and you sniffled as you felt your cheeks numb. Everything was covered in a layer of snow and the sharp icy air made it even more unwelcoming. The only warm presence was him. Katsuki, walking with his much larger frame, he’s grown now that you’re this close to him calmly. He smelt like faint sugary sweets. It brought a soft smile to your face.

“So…” Katsuki started, “So?” You inquired about his silence.

“How are you, you hang out with that dunce face a lot, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Seems like I don’t know you anymore, heh–”

“-Hey, you’re the one who said you didn’t want to be my friend. I never forced you away.” A pout was plastered on your face, a laugh underneath.

“I just wanted to know if the [Nickname] I know is still there,” His crimson eyes scanned yours as you two came to a halt on school grounds, facing each other.

“What [Nickname] do you mean, Katsuki?”

“The one that loved me.” His cheeks were already pink from the cold but they got even pinker. You yourself felt your cheeks heating up.

“Wha- What do you mean, How did you..?”

“I’m not an idiot. And..”

“And?” You asked and before you could get your answer, his hands warmly cupped your frosty cheeks. His heart could almost burst at that moment, it felt like he was holding what inspired him to mature in UA, he couldn’t word it, words were too dumb to convey it. So he leaned in, his eyes staring gently as he closed them. You froze, your hands holding his wrists as you felt his snug breath, smelled of peppermint, and not too later his soft lips brushed against yours, sucking your bottom gently in a lengthy exchange.

When he pulled away you brought you into an embrace, his arms around your waist as you over his neck. “I love you- fuckin’ idiotic [Nickname]” Was the only muffled thing you could hear from him.

“I love you too.. Katsuki.” Leaning up, you kissed his cheek.

With that, you were together, and if you thought it was a rushed decision. It was the complete opposite. You two had the most sustaining, laughter-filled relationship none of class-A’s graduates had. And it’s something Katsuki liked to flaunt in reunion dinners.

Innocent dates, not-so-innocent hangovers at each other's places. You’re two each other’s first in everything, the heat that you two shared, the passionate kisses, the touches, some might say it’s temporary, and it sure felt like it. But what your relationship most exceeded is patience and endurance. It wasn’t any flame that burnt out with time. It scorched like the sun in the sahara desert, for years, consistently. Perhaps that’s what happens when you make someone who fell for you wait too long, when both ends are promising and stubborn.

Perhaps that’s just true love.

He’s competitive, but doesn’t mind losing when it’s her. She’s talkative, but doesn’t mind the silence with him. It’s the little things, it’s how she reads him, how he cares for her, their actions, words, thoughts, all in sync. They weren’t soulmates. In fact they were one soul cut in half, in separate bodies.

A battle in spring, five years after graduation. All heroes were called, the Paranormal Liberation Front commenced again. All help offered was needed and their leader was strong, not strong as he used to be, but Dabi, Shouto’s brother, has gained more fireforce than ever. Air was filled with smoke, you could hear Endeavor’s instructions as before he Collapsed. Shit, this is gonna be ugly.

Shouto, Katsuki and Izuku went in with Hawks in pairs as you and Yaoyorozu went in from behind. The rest were evacuating and avoiding casualties. All in your viewpoint was rage, smoke, flying debris and dust. Eraserhead spotted Shigaraki, that’s our chance, using your quirk, and with Yaoyorozu's help you reached and captured him. This was the first time since UA you were able to fully outpower him. A few scratches and dirt doesn’t hurt. A few cuts.

“[Name]!” You heard Shouto’s voice. “Can you get ahold of my location? Get here, fast. Tou– Dabi’s too strong.” He was panting, you could know he’s exhausted.

“Right over!” You hopped between the broken walls and buildings. God the damage was striking.

Out of your peripheral view you saw how blue flames surrounded everything the more you went in, as long with ice. You heard explosions and as the air pressure changed, you unblocked your ears when the smoke cleared up. It reveals an angry Dynamight flying up to Dabi who was avoiding by sending a lot of blue flames to maintain distance. That action was straining Bakugou out, and that’s Dabi’s plan.

“Where’s Shiga–”

“We’ve caught him, he’s captured.” You cut Izuku off and signalled him to take you to where Bakugou is, perhaps you could find an opening…

Before you could be there midway, you saw Bakugou get a cramp in his muscle- NO-

Everything went in slow motion. And your heart was beating a thousand beats a minute as massive blue flames consumed his ‘frail’ body compared to their size. Shouto jolted into place and caught him before he hit the ground. You left Dekus arms, free falling and landing badly scraping your knees as you rolled on the rubble.

“KATUSKI!” You choked on a sob as his whole body was covered in level three burns so bad the bruises or anything else couldn’t be seen. He was covered in black and grey ash, and bled everywhere. No no no no. You held him gently in your arms, He shifted. “[Name], my lo-” He moaned in pure pain, crying anytime he moved.

“Katsuki, it’s me shh, calm down I’m here-”

“Lo-Love… You..” He gasped out, but lost consciousness in reason to his misery.

Did he, did he just… Die? The love of your life? Your perfect half? The man who.. Did everything for you all these years? Looked out for the both of you? Inspired an entire school with his demeanor, what about your future plans together? What happened to growing old together? Travelling the world? Looking for each other. This bastard took it away from you.

“KATSUKI DON’T LEAVE ME! KATSU-” You cried out. Shouto was shunned beside you but swallowed.

“[Name]! Let me get him to the medics–” Of course Shouto would sympathise, he got burnt too at one point. He flew away with the corpse of Katsuki. You’re convinced he’s dead, there’s no way a man burnt to a crisp like that would survive no matter the odds.

All you felt was your blood boil more over the same blue flames that set your lover on fire. Dabi stood there after he cornered Izuku, a smirk creeping on his face. “Seems like your fairy tale is finally put to an end, eh? It was starting to sicken me.”

“Keep walking like that and you’ll join him in heaven.” You silently continued walking towards him, Izuku begged you to stop. You can only hear your own lover’s cries. Katsuki was in pain, Katsuki suffered a painful death because of this motherfucker. No remorse held you back as you closed your eyes when he put his hand to release his quirk on you. Not that he was Shouto’s brother, you felt cold, wet droplets, opening your eyes. It was raining and a breeze hit you. Dabi was infuriated, you looked back and saw Eraserhead. And smirked.

“What were you gonna do again?”

“[Name]!”

A punch.

Another punch .

A kick.

Your quirk.

“Stop it!”

Quirk enhanced hits.

Repeat.

“HERE’S TO KATSUKI THE FIRST TIME YOU KIDNAPPED HIM”

A punch.

Another punch .

A kick.

“He’s dead!”

Your quirk.

Quirk enhanced hits.

Repeat.

“TO JAKU, BEST JEANIST, ALL THE PEOPLE YOU HURT!”

A punch.

“You already killed him!”

Another punch .

A kick.

Your quirk.

Quirk enhanced hits.

Repeat.

“TO KATSUKI AGAIN, YOU FUCKING BURNT BACON-”

You cursed heavens and earth when you used all your force. At this point, his bones were mush, you were hitting something very soggy. Eraserhead restrained you too late with his capture weapon, you were still cursing and crying. But at this point you weren’t saying anything coherent.

“That’s ugly– How did my student do this on earth's sake.” Eraserhead hissed at the literal deforned body that laid before him, it might as well be minced meat. Izuku passed midway through asking you to stop, Dabi’s blood spluttered on both your and his faces.

A month of doubt, preparing for them any moment to say he’s not coming back. Preparing to be sitting in his room and the monitor making a single beep. You could be ready for anything. The burnts are all bandaged, head to toe, Katsuki was bandaged except his face, the doctors suspect he used his arms to protect his eyes, natural reflex.

“[Name]...?” You heard a very deep, raspy voice call, you lifted your head from between your hands and looked at him, tears still in your eyes. “Katsuki.. I thought.. You wouldn’t make it–” You sniffled.

His eyes closed. “My whole fuckin’ body’s itchy, the fuck?”

“Katsuki–”

“Shut up, stop talking so much and kiss me already, I can���t fuckin’ move.” He scolded, his eyes red and glistening.

You leaned against him, pressing your lips to his gently, so fragile, so frail, someone you almost lost.

“If you would’ve gone, I think a piece of me would’ve died too.”