#Every other member of The Chain: I- yeS-

[rainy-day-revelry]

Absolutely adoring how the chain seems to have assigned big brother little brother pairings for all of the minors:

Legend who is making sure Hyrule doesn’t overuse his magic and exhaust himself

Warriors who is constantly scruffing Wind to make sure he doesn’t do something stupid

And Twilight who is trying to stop Wild from yeeting himself off the nearest cliff and failing miserably

Peak sibling behavior

[pathologicalreid]

Hii I am making a Spencer Reid x citizen! F reader. They have been dating for a really long time but for a while reader has been dealing with a stalker, suddenly the stalker becomes much more violent and maybe even kidnaps her if we want to get real cray cray. Just lots of protective reid and angst to comfort!!

don't lose your head | S.R.

a stalker uses your work as a tudor history professor to follow your every move, so you go to the only place you can think of for help - the BAU

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: professor!reader, fiance!spencer, erotomaniac stalker, lots of tudor history facts, kidnapping, decapitation, happy ending, s11 (post-maeve), guns, death, spencer feels a lot of guilt, unhelpful police, exhaustion, nausea, dry heaving word count: 3.71k a/n: yall if i wanted to make this into a series would you read it 😭 i had so much fun writing this!!! and yes the title is a reference to six! thank you sooo much for requesting!!

you

You told Spencer after the fourth note. While the first two had been near your office door – harmless enough to have been brushed off as a student prank, the third note had been left on your desk. When someone had gotten into your locked office to leave you an intense love letter, you knew you were out of your depth.

After years of hearing stories about the BAU needing to battle the chain of command, you thought the best thing to do was to first go to the campus police. You were a professor, so the natural assumption was that they’d look into it.

They didn’t even take a report. No one listened to you.

From the campus police, you went into the city police, then the county, and by the time you marched into DC Metro, you hadn’t slept in a day. Spencer was in Utah on a case, and you didn’t have anywhere else to go. Once DC Metro told you there was nothing they could do without an open investigation or further evidence, you went back to your apartment.

The fourth note was there waiting for you, covering the camera that you kept on your front door.

Since you had the first three notes already in your bag, you plucked the newest one from where it was stationed on the front door and stuffed it in with the others before making the trip down to Quantico.

You had no idea when the team would be back, but the security guards at the front desk recognized you from the times you’d come to pick Spencer up or bring him lunch and they let you up anyway.

There were no notifications on your phone from Spencer letting you know that they were flying home, but the only place you felt safe was in their headquarters. The idea of going to see Penelope crossed your mind, but as a profiler-adjacent, she’d likely see right through you. You never dropped by, especially not when Spencer was away.

Settling yourself at his desk, you pulled an empty manila folder from a drawer, placed the notes neatly inside, and left it on Spencer’s desk before sitting in his chair and waiting for something to happen.

“Hey, Reid,” you heard a familiar voice from behind you. Slowly, you spun the chair around and looked at the team as they filtered in the glass doors.

Confused, Spencer tilted his head at you, clearly wondering why you were staking out the bullpen as he approached you. As he got closer, he observed the bags under your eyes, bloodshot from your lack of sleep over the last few days, “What’s wrong?”

Chewing on the inside of your lip, you clutched the folder like your life depended on it – for all you knew, it did. Your eyes followed Spencer as he knelt in front of you, accepting the folder when you handed it to him, “I think I’m in trouble,” you whispered, voice raspy from lack of use.

Your fiancé flipped through the pages, reading each of them a few times while you garnered attention from other members of the BAU. Tara, Derek, and JJ all crowded around Spencer’s desk, curious on your surprise appearance.

“I…” you faltered as you tried to explain what felt inexplicable. “The first one was folded over the doorknob of my office, the second one was slid beneath the door to my office, the third one was left on my desk, and the fourth one,” you glanced nervously at Spencer, “it was on the apartment door.”

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed, “apartment door? Our apartment door?” As he questioned you, he stood up, leaving you with four federal agents staring down at you.

Despondently, you nodded, steepling your fingers in your lap and letting your shoulders droop.

“I’ll go get Hotch,” JJ said, nodding at everyone else to confirm her intentions before turning around, making her way up the steps to Hotch’s office.

From there, you ended up in the roundtable room. Tara had personally brought the letters for the lab to be checked for prints, and the techs had sent Garcia scans that were now projected on the screen. Each member of the team had them up on tablets, but you and Spencer knew the words by heart.

Shaking her head, Tara looked up at everyone, “I mean, who writes like this anymore? ‘But if you please to do the office of a true loyal mistress and friend, and to give yourself up body and heart to me, who will be, and have been, your most loyal servant,” she shrugged, continuing to look over the letters.

“They’re love letters,” you explained, tugging the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your palms before crossing your arms in front of your stomach. “The words aren’t original, they’re all passages from the love letters of Henry VIII to Anne Boleyn.”

Pointing to something on her screen, JJ frowned, “And what does his greeting mean? He always starts with ‘my rose without a thorn’.”

Nodding dejectedly, you focused your eyes on the now-empty manila folder on the table in front of you. “That was what Henry VIII called Catherine Howard, she was his youngest wife. It’s widely accepted among scholars that she was around seventeen when they got married, but others say she could’ve been as young as fifteen,” you answered, wondering if more details would help the investigation.

“So, we have Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard, which wives were those?” Rossi asked, looking around the table for someone who knew the answer.

In the middle of scrawling something on an evidence board, Spencer answered quickly, “Two and five.”

Folding your hands in your lap, you scoured your memory for anything that could be helpful. When Hotch asked if those numbers meant everything to you, you just shook your head. “Is there any significance to the two wives he chose being Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard?”

Your lips parted in surprise as the blood drained from your face, “They were the two wives who were beheaded.”

An eerie silence fell over the room, interrupted only by a chime from Penelope’s laptop, her shoulders slumped forward in abject disappointment, “The lab didn’t find anything on the letters. No prints, no hair… nothing, but uh…” her voice trailed off as she looked up at Hotch, it was almost like she was seeking permission.

Each member of the BAU looked at each other with the same concerned expression on their faces. “What do you all know that I don’t?”

“Two bodies turned up last week in the greater DC area,” Morgan was the brave soul who spoke up, “they were both missing their heads, and they were both college professors.”

Goosebumps spread over your entire body, a chill of fear causing the tip of your nose to feel cold, “Oh, I…” you fumbled over your words, standing up from your chair and rushing to leave the roundtable, nearly throwing yourself out of the bullpen on your way to the women’s restroom.

Entering one of the stalls, you haphazardly gathered your hair at the back of your head and you dry heaved into the toilet. You dropped to your knees as nothing came out.

A knock at the door barely garnered your attention, you didn’t even bother responding as Spencer was already entering the stall, “Oh, honey.”

That was it, you sat back on your heels as tears welled in your eyes, looking up at Spencer as he sat down next to you. Immediately, you turned your body to face him and leaned forward.

Welcomingly, Spencer grabbed you, firmly wrapping his arms around your torso as he pulled you into his lap, “I have you. I’m right here.” His voice was gentle, no more than a whisper as he kept a firm pressure around your body, “You’re safe with me,” he reassured you, using one hand to keep you upright and the other to rub your back as you cried.

Your face was buried in the crook of his neck as you wept, the sensation of fear ran through your body like electricity, and you felt content for the first time in days in the safety of Spencer’s arms. “I- I just teach. I’m n- not built for this,” you cried, words slightly muffled by his shoulder.

You were a history professor, teaching a course on the six wives of Henry VIII, this was never even in the realm of things you considered when putting together your syllabus.

Taking a shaky breath, you pulled away from Spencer, and he reached behind you for a wad of toilet paper to dry your face. “Spence,” you said, though it came out as more of a whimper.

“When’s the last time you slept?” He asked, cupping both of your cheeks in his hands while he studied your exhausted expression.

Shrugging, you shuffled off of him, dropping the wad of toilet paper in the bowl and flushing it, “A day? Two?” You weren’t entirely sure what day it currently was, the events of the last few had caused everything to sort of blend together.

Spencer nodded in understanding, “Okay,” he responded, slipping his phone out of his pocket before typing something out, “Why don’t you go lie down in Morgan’s office for a little while? He won’t mind.”

You blinked a few final tears from your eyes before affirming, “Yeah, uh. I need to grab something from my car.”

“Okay, are you parked in the garage? I’ll go down with you,” he offered, getting up and lending you a hand up, mumbling about the state of the bathroom floor as he did so.

After washing your hands, the two of you made your way through the hall and to the elevator before Garcia called out for Reid, “Hotch needs you for something, he said it’s urgent.”

Glancing back at you, he pursed his lips before selecting a lower-level special agent to go with you to the parking garage. “Be right back,” you told him as you stepped onto the elevator.

him

Once he was finished with Hotch, Spencer made his way back down the hallway, expecting to find yourself settling in Morgan’s office only to find it empty. Turning back in the hallway, he nearly bulldozed into Morgan and JJ, “Hey, what’s the rush?”

“Have either of you seen Y/N?” He asked, trying not to let panic rise in his voice, but there had been ample time for you to get to the parking garage and back. You should’ve been back by now.

The two of them shared a look, “Uh, no, I haven’t seen her since she left the roundtable room. Is she alright?” JJ asked, blue eyes filled with concern.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Spencer hit the number one on speed dial – your number – and brought the phone to his ear before rushing to the elevator and moving to the side as JJ and Morgan piled in with him. Frantically pushing the button for the parking level, he cursed as the phone went to voicemail.

“Reid, what is it?” Morgan asked as the elevator started moving down.

Redialing your number, Spencer muttered to himself, hoping you’d pick up, “I sent her down with an agent. Hotch needed my apartment key so that Tara and Rossi could go look for anything.”

As the steel doors opened, the three of them drew their firearms, each of them taking a different direction when Spencer realized he didn’t even know where you had parked your car. “We have an agent down,” Morgan called out, calling Garcia and putting the phone on speaker. “Baby girl, we need medical and crime scene techs down to the lower-level parking garage,” he said into the phone.

“Spencer,” JJ called out, garnering his attention as he made his way through the garage to where JJ and Morgan were now stood, Morgan was applying pressure on Agent Franks’ wound, and JJ was looking at a car.

The passenger door to your car was open, and the vehicle was chiming as an alert to get you to close the door. As he stepped forward, something glimmered at the edge of his vision. Crouching down, he picked up your engagement ring from the cement, “He’s got her,” he said, a wave of déjà vu nearly toppling him over.

Impatiently waiting for the elevator to take him back up to the sixth floor, Spencer trudged to the roundtable room, desperate for another look at the evidence board. The dates of each letter that you had received, the content of each letter, and the reason for all of this didn’t make any sense to him.

It had to be an erotomaniac, it was the only thing that made sense. You were an object of someone’s desires, and their delusion had to have become so strong that they took you.

Quietly, someone stepped into the roundtable room behind him, “What are you thinking about?”

Imminent death. Statistics of harm and death in cases involving erotomanic kidnappings. “Synchronicity,” he answered simply, entertaining JJ’s conversation as he continued to study the letters. The love letters were at the core of it all, so the answer needed to be written in there. Everything that had come to you was almost an exact copy of words written by Henry VIII.

“Ah, that’s Jung, right?” JJ asked, her voice was kind, and she was using the same tone she used when doing cognitive interviews with victims. He didn’t have time for her pity, they were on a clock.

Sighing, Spencer picked his dry-erase marker back up and scrawled on the board, “It’s a concept that he introduced, yes. It’s meant to describe the occurrence of events which seem like they’re significantly related but there’s no discernable causation.”

JJ nodded understandingly, taking a spot next to him and looking at the notes, “And what occurrence of events are we thinking about right now?”

“I suppose more than anything, I’m wondering if there’s an action that I took in the past that somehow caused me to find myself in this situation twice,” he answered, circling the word ‘the place chosen by yourself’ on the evidence board.

Humming, JJ turned to face him, “Does Y/N know?”

Pressing his lips together in a thin, white line, he nodded tightly, “I told her years ago, when we had first started dating, actually. I never thought…” his voice trailed off as he set down the marker, “She came to me, JJ. She came here to be safe, and he grabbed her from the parking garage.”

“You sent her down there with an agent, you thought you were doing the right thing,” JJ tried to comfort him.

Scoffing dismissively, he stepped back and took a seat in one of the chairs, “I can’t stop thinking about if it would’ve made a difference. If her asking me for help would have fixed anything, or if it would have ended the same way.”

Taking a seat near him, JJ paused for a moment, seemingly at a loss for words, before responding, “We can’t really afford to think like that though, in our line of work.”

Spencer scoffed, “No, we can’t. Especially not now, but the timing of it is weird. It’s been almost exactly four years, and now…” his voice trailed off as his eye caught on something on the paper. “The timing is off,” he muttered, picking up the first letter you had received.

“What is it, Spence?” JJ asked, tilting her head to the side curiously.

Shaking his head, he read the letter again, “This letter, it’s from the first letter Henry VIII wrote to Anne Boleyn, but in this version, he says he’s been waiting for months to be with her, but they waited seven years to be together because they were waiting for his marriage to Catherine of Aragon to be annulled.”

Still confused, JJ leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, “Okay, what does that mean.”

“We ruled out a student because the crimes didn’t read as mature, but what if it’s a different kind of student?” He proposed, standing up from the chair abruptly and starting to write on the board.

Rolling her chair closer to the board, she shrugged, “I’m not sure I’m following.”

Holding up a single finger, Spencer wrote a name down on the board, “Y/N has a grad student TA, he’s been working toward his PhD for seven years. He’s been her TA for three months – that lines up with the timeline in the letters.”

“Okay,” JJ said, starting to follow along, she waved at the team members in the bullpen to get their attention before hitting the call button on the conference phone. “Penelope, what do you have on a Geoffrey Williamson? He’s a TA in Y/N’s class.”

There was typing on the other line before a sound of disgust came from the technical analyst, “He is a different kind of smarmy, it looks like he transferred programs two years ago to Y/N’s university after he… oh. It looks like he bounced from foster home to foster home as a kid, his parents never fully gave up their rights but couldn’t follow through on their case plan. He was unsuccessful in his last dissertation defense three months ago,” she continued clacking on her keyboard, “after which his mentor teacher dropped him and the school gave him one more semester before pulling his funding. He asked Y/N to be his new mentor teacher and it looks like she turned him down -very nicely, might I add.”

Scoffing, Morgan crossed his arms in front of his chest, “That sounds like a stressor and a trigger if I’ve ever heard one.

“Garcia,” Hotch spoke into the phone, “Do you have a location for Williamson?”

There was more typing as Spencer could feel his carotid pounding in his throat, “It looks like he lives in student housing, but… he recently inherited an old factory after his biological father passed away two weeks ago.”

Nodding, Hotch looked around the table, “Send us the address, and forward it to Rossi and Lewis too.”

“Done, go get her,” Penelope urged into the phone before hanging up.

He slipped your engagement ring into his pocket before adjusting the strap on his Kevlar, thrumming with nervous energy as Morgan coordinated with SWAT, waiting outside of the old textile factory as the tactical team organized themselves in front of the BAU.

Spencer and JJ took the left side, Rossi and Tara took the right, and Morgan and Hotch went through the main doors.

“No!” Your voice broke out through the steel corridors of the factory, immediately followed by a yelp.

There was an awful noise then, like metal scraping against itself, “Fucking say it!” An unfamiliar male voice broke out in a holler.

Steeling himself, Spencer had to hold himself back from rushing into the room where your voice was coming from, each one of your sobs was like another strike at his resolve. “Good Christian people,” he heard you say, your voice was strained, “I am come hither to die, for according to the law, and by the law I am judged to- to-“ Your voice broke off into a heap of wails.

“What is she saying?” JJ whispered, waiting for SWAT to clear the corridor.

All of the blood had drained from Spencer’s face, “She’s reciting Anne Boleyn’s execution speech, from right before she was beheaded.”

JJ nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation – they needed to get in there, and they needed to do it quickly. SWAT waved them over, and the two of them filtered through the open doorway. The space was dimly illuminated by candles, but the only thing Spencer could focus on was your head, bowed toward the ground as you watched the ground. Above you, Geoffrey was holding a sword, ready to cut your head off.

“Geoffrey Williamson, FBI!” JJ called out, announcing themselves to the UnSub before he could get any further in his convoluted execution, “Put the sword down! Let Y/N go.”

Spencer clocked the UnSub’s grip tightening on the sword as he zeroed in on you, “I can’t! She has to pay for this! She has to finish the speech.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but as you raised your head slightly, he found himself silenced by your gaze. Roll, he mouthed the words to you, hoping Williamson was too focused on JJ to notice what he was trying to tell you.

“And by the law I am judged to die,” you continued the speech, your voice wavering.

Taking a deep breath, Spencer watched as the UnSub raised the sword despite JJ’s instructions to set it on the ground, “Y/N, stop talking!”

Releasing another sob, you finished the execution speech, “And therefore I will speak nothing against it.”

As soon as the last word was out of your mouth, Williamson brought the sword down, and as it swung, two things happened. JJ pulled the trigger on her firearm, killing the UnSub, and you rolled out of the way, the chains that bound your hands and feet clanging on the ground as you did so.

Holstering his weapon, Spencer ran over to you, dropping to his knees in front of you, “It’s done. It’s over,” he tried to reassure you, but you had begun struggling against your restraints as Spencer tried to settle you down, “Stop, it’s me, baby. Baby, it’s me,” he said desperately.

Once you had maneuvered yourself into a sitting position, you looked at Spencer with big, watery eyes before completely breaking down. “I just wanted it to end,” you babbled as your face crumpled.

“I know, honey,” he said, reaching out to pull you close as JJ contacted the rest of the team, asking for a chain cutter to get your restraints off of you as they weren’t able to find the keys on the body. “He’s gone, you’re safe,” he urged, holding you tightly.

You weren’t seriously injured, but there were enough bumps and bruises to make Spencer insist on a trip to the hospital. Until the EMTs could make it to you, he was fine with holding you on the floor of the factory. Keeping you close. Keeping you safe with him.

[emo-batboy]

Battinson and the JL ft. His Eventual Identity Reveal

(If you’re just here for the cutesy bits, skip to Attempt #2. Otherwise, STRAP IN CUZ IT’S A LOT)

Bruce Wayne of Matt Reeves’ The Batman is not the founder type.

He wouldn’t voluntarily join a book club, much less join a league of super powered vigilantes whom he does not know personally.

So in this universe, you probably wouldn’t call him one of the three Founding members.

But he’s still integral to the formation of the Justice League

It starts out with a friendly visit :)

Bruce is patrolling on a random night in Gotham when he notices a weird thing in the sky. It’s floating just far enough behind him that a less vigilant person wouldn’t have noticed, but Bruce is always watching his own back, and he takes it as a threat.

He strays from his usual path and then heads to a warehouse roof before turning to face the threat.

It’s Superman. All smiley and dressed in primary colors. The strongest, most powerful being on Earth just floating over like he wasn’t stalking Batman a second ago. Bruce does not like that.

“What do you want with Gotham?” He asks. “I don’t,” Superman says. “I wanted to talk to The Batman.” So this is some kind of fight? An intervention? A warning? Then Superman frowns. “You…are The Batman, right?”

Bruce only nods as he considers his options, but he can’t really do that when Superman has super speed, super sight, super strength, super breath, super lots-of-things-that-Batman-probably-doesn’t-know-of.

Then Superman surprises him by landing on the roof and giving him this pitch about a superhero group.

Superman and a few other vigilantes have been bouncing around the idea of teaming up together so they can help one another protect their cities. And The Batman was a “perfect candidate.”

“I’m not joining your club.” “It’s not a club. It’s a league.” “What’s your mission statement, then?” “A what?” Bruce fights the urge to roll his eyes. He still doesn’t trust this guy. “Take your league idea back to the drawing board then we can talk.” He does not intend on talking.

But two months later, Superman is back. This time, he brings another super powered vigilante named Wonder Woman.

She smiles, politely approaches him, and says “Superman tells me you want to learn more about our league.” That is not what he said, but he doesn’t bite.

Bruce can’t decide which they remind him of more: college recruiters or cult leaders. But because Wonder Woman genuinely seems to care about seeing this project through, and the roster she has of current like-minded vigilantes is impressive, he lets her talk.

And to give her credit, she definitely thought out the logistics more. It almost makes up for the time they’re wasting.

Okay, fine. They’re still way behind on concept, and it’s pitiful. He actually feels bad.

They obviously care! They just have no idea how to run a business like he does. Is it a bit cynical to think of this league of Justice as a business? Yes, but that’s the only way he can even conceive this happening and working.

Bruce asks about their organization’s leadership structure, and that’s when Wonder Woman falters a bit. “We want to work with each other, not for.” Bruce bites his tongue on that subject.

He asks about their scope of work. “We want to help as many people as we can, but that can be ironed out later.” Bruce bites his tongue on that subject.

He asks “Who’s funding this?” She answers, “We have a few members willing to pitch in, but the majority will have to come from generous citizens.” And that’s when he just stops asking questions. Because what?

If he could cry the grease paint off, he would.

They can’t just think every super-powered vigilante is going to sing Kumbaya and braid each other’s hair. There needs to be checks and balances within the organization to avoid tyranny and corruption. They need a reliable source of donations (that doesn’t immediately out Bruce.) They need a proper chain of command. They need to map out their area of responsibility. They need to design a VERY strict vetting process. It’s not sunshine and rainbows. It’s hard work!

So he says he’ll think about it again and complains to Alfred about the weird super stalkers.

But for SOME reason, Alfred doesn’t see the problem

Alfred encourages him to join so he can “make some friends.” But how can he trust these people if they can’t even make a half-decent pitch? It’s like a bad episode of Shark Tank.

And “make friends?” They’re all masked

But after a week of gentle nudging (read: very firm lectures), Bruce agrees. ONLY to keep tabs on the rest of the vigilante world and possible threats to Gotham

(And without his help, they’ll probably butt-dial Lex Luthor the nuclear codes or something)

And he is damn well going to figure out who these people really are before he helps them make a Super Organization.

Alfred figures out about half of their secret identities purely as a brain exercise while Bruce is out fighting crime and collecting head injuries like Pokémon cards. They figure out the rest together.

They also develop contingency plans for every single member. Just in case.

And after months of Batman being visited by random vigilantes, whom he has several choice words for about personal space—“This is my city. Go away.”—he accepts. On several conditions.

Not all of them are appreciated.

Attempt #1: “Making Friends”

After several scheduling conflicts, a lot of prep work, and a really good hype session in front of the mirror, Bruce heads on over to the first official meeting.

Batman arrives with a long list of things they need to do before going public. The first thing on the list?

Write A Mission Statement

What the fuck are they actually trying to do? Bruce thinks this is a great starting point.

And you’d think (you’d think) this Justice League thing would be easier to tolerate than the drawn-out exec meetings he has to sit through with boring, old businessmen who keep delaying things so they can hash out every little detail.

To Bruce’s absolute horror, he BECOMES the boring businessman who’s delaying things so they can hash out every little detail. He misses the boring, old businessmen. At least they knew what they were doing.

Every turn, he is argued with.

“Why do we need a mission statement?” “‘Power Structure’ feels authoritarian. Can’t we just share leadership duties?” “Do we really need this much paperwork?”

Bruce has the audacity to say, “We need to develop some sort of protocol that helps us analyze any possible threat.” But no. “Why can’t I just jump in? I have eyes.” “Jumping in without studying an opponent’s behavior could cause more harm than good,” he insists. “So what? I’m going to watch an alien monster go on a rampage through my city instead of fighting it?” “Yes. You don’t know what it’s capable of.”

Bruce already regrets joining.

All he hears is the others gossiping. “Is this guy really telling us how to be heroes?” “He’s got a major stick up his ass.” “I knew we shouldn’t have let him join.” And if that doesn’t dissuade him, he doesn’t know what will.

“How was the first meeting?” Alfred asks. Bruce scowls. “I’m not making friends.”

Nonetheless, Bruce sticks it out for weeks until they have some semblance of an organization. And, to his shock and amazement, it…kind of works.

The Justice League makes its debut, and Wayne Enterprises generously donates some money “out of spite” after Lex Luthor publicly denounces the league. (Honestly, Bruce would too if he hadn’t personally duct-taped it together himself.)

But the league starts small, just like he told them, they respond to natural disasters and public safety threats first (as per the outreach initiative) and focus on protecting communities in need (as per the mission statement.)

Yes, they still think Batman has a stick up his ass because he’s a stickler for writing incident reports, but no one else reads them so he has the right to be pissed.

He’s almost kind of sort of content with how it’s going. Even his reputation as a vigilante is improving.

That’s when another glaring difference between him and the other members appears.

Despite looking the same age as the rest of the team, Bruce is actually much younger?? Even excluding the aliens, gods, etc.

Most of his teammates are in their late 30’s, early 40’s. Meanwhile, Bruce is at the ripe age of 29 and a half.

He is the youngest by ten years.

Everyone kind of just assumes he’s the same age, though, so they make references to 80’s kids stuff that he only vaguely understands through Alfred and his business partners. He just sits there in silence like a child who snuck over to the adult table and is waiting to get caught.

So on top of the rift he (accidentally) created when they started the organization, it’s even harder to connect through similar interests. Other than punching people together.

And Bruce Wayne has a bad case of imposter syndrome when it comes to their superpowers.

He’s always in the corner brooding, and everyone’s like ummm antisocial much?

But 50% of the time, it’s because he’s thinking “I’ll never amount to the incredible heroic feats everyone else has accomplished. How can I possibly make a difference to the world if I’m already struggling to save Gotham?” Like a little emo freak 🖤

(Meanwhile, you couldn’t pay those mf’s to step foot in Gotham. This Bat guy’s crazy and he’s human apparently?! No way. Nuh uh.)

The OTHER 50% of his “brooding” is Bruce standing to the side with a mixture of concern and judgment because his teammates’ competency in certain areas is…alarmingly low sometimes.

One week, he finds himself thinking, “How do these grown-ass adults not know their way around a digital map? They’re 40, not geriatric.”

Then like a week later, it’s “These fucking war fossils don’t even know Morse code. I gotta do everything around here.”

One of the final straws is when he says, “Did they just break another fucking Keurig? Who does that, Alfred? It’s the fifth one.”

Suffice it to say, he’s not very personable. But is it his fault? Well yeah, a little bit. Like……..65% his fault.

(The remaining 35% is their moaning and groaning whenever Batman calls a meeting.)

Bruce’s irritation is totally justified.

God, he just wants to go home.

Why is he doing this again?

Attempt #2: Actually Making Friends

The first JL member to break through his cold, black exterior is Wonder Woman. She needs help with search and rescue after a sinkhole opens up near an elementary school, but no one’s available until Batman responds to her call.

He’s on the scene in less than an hour and makes quick work in securing the area. Thankfully, she catches him once it’s over. (He always runs off without saying goodbye.)

“Thanks for helping. Everyone else was just so busy. I’m glad you could fly over.” Batman mumbles something that she can’t quite hear. “What was that?” she asks. “I was busy too,” he repeats. She gives him a weird look, and he freezes up for a second as he realizes that probably wasn’t appropriate to say. “I mean…this was more important. There were kids in danger so it didn’t…matter if I was busy.”

Wonder Woman considers how awkward The Batman looks for a moment then smiles. So he really is human. “Well, thank you. The help was very much appreciated.”

Since then, several small acts of kindness and solidarity earn Batman some respect from the rest of the team.

One day, Flash complains about how boring their meetings are so Batman brings a massive bin of fidget toys. After placing them in front of the Flash, he mumbles, “These are for ADHD. They’re useful.” Flash almost cries with relief. He is very touched.

Another day, Green Arrow is severely injured in battle. Without a word, Batman leaves the fight, takes him to a safe location, stops the bleeding, and does it all while repeatedly making sure he’s awake and asking permission to remove certain pieces of clothing.

In another fight, Plastic Man’s mask is thrown off, and Batman sees his face. In a second, Batman tosses a smoke bomb, picks up the mask, and hands it back before anyone else can look. It costs them time and the element of surprise, and Plastic Man knows it, but Batman did it anyway.

A JL member’s stomach grumbles during one too many meetings. Suddenly, their little break room becomes a fully stocked kitchen with shelf-stable meal items and all the basic necessities. There’s a nut-free section, a gluten-free section, everything. The only reason they know it’s him is because anyone else would have admitted to it.

(He renovated the whole fucking thing. In one night. By himself.)

And they all see how gentle he is with children. Countless times, The Batman is spotted prioritizing young civilians at any given moment.

He has lollipops in his belt. And Bluey bandaids too.

It’s the little things that make them feel closer to him :)

And okay maybe his goddamn Mission Statement lecture wasn’t so bad

So they stop moaning and groaning

Okay, now it’s bonding time WOOHOO!!

Attempt #3: Kinda? Friends??

One day, Superman says he isn’t too fond of billionaires (because of Lex, obviously) and goes on a rant about capitalism. Bruce doesn’t dare contribute because 1) he’s the richest man in the world and 2) every other billionaire he’s met is insufferable.

(Including Oliver Queen who Bruce refuses to look at while Green Arrow “defends his city’s billionaire.”)

(And while we’re on the topic of Green Arrow, Bruce cannot forget the disappointing almost-fling two summers ago. He still holds a grudge.)

Green Arrow: “You’re all fashion nightmares. Who wears a cape in the 21st century?” Batman: “At least my facial hair isn’t longer than my dick.” GA: “What was that, Batman?” B: “What?”

Also Bruce is very attracted to Superman.

(He likes older men.)

(Yes, I am referring to Henry Cavill’s Superman.)

(Sue me.)

(But don’t get your hopes up. He does literally nothing about it.)

(Coward.)

One of the JL members complains about how sore they are after a few missions so Bruce cashes in his Monthly Attempt to Socialize and says, “Try yoga. It helps me.” “…Batman, you do yoga?” “Yes. My son got me into it….It’s good for you.” “You have a son?!” He is never socializing again.

They also learn that Batman has the smallest frame on the team. (Like yeah, he’s tall, but he’s also lanky, and everyone else is either an alien or a human dorito.)

One night, they need to sneak through the vents of some building so Bruce offers to do it. Someone says, “It’s a tight squeeze. Are you sure you can fit?” Then he just takes his cape and pauldrons and shoulder pads off and is suddenly like a foot skinnier

“Wait…is this why you’re so good at hiding in the shadows?” Bruce just glares at the Flash for a second before climbing into the vents.

(The answer is yes.)

A betting pool is started over whether or not Batman is part Bat.

In fact, several betting pools begin because no one knows anything about the guy??

Aquaman and Plastic Man go to great lengths to figure out what his hair color is.

They lose their shit once Bruce tells them he’s vegetarian.

Green Lantern: “Every time he opens his mouth, we learn something new. Next, he’s going to tell me he speaks Swahili!” Batman: “I do.” GL: “Oh, come on!”

Superman: “We need someone on the inside for this international operation to work, but that’ll take at least three months undercover.” Batman: “Don’t worry. I have connections.” S: “…In Shanghai?” B: “Yes.”

The Flash adds SHANGHAI?? to his conspiracy board

Bruce needs to stop trying to socialize. It’s better for everyone’s cardiovascular health.

A year or two in, they’re all introduced to Captain Marvel. Bruce is the first and only person to learn his true identity (kid Billy Batson) because Bruce is the only one with a kid. That way, he understands the weird Gen-Alpha humor and references.

Millennia-old deities don’t use the term Flop Era.

And, of course, they play FMK at some point.

(I mean, come on. There are like TWO mature adults on this team, but Martian Manhunter doesn’t know what’s going on until it’s too late, and Wonder Woman is busy at her day job.)

During that particular round, the celebrities are Bruce Wayne, Lex Luthor, and Kylie Jenner. Bruce does, in fact, want to kill himself, but he chooses Fuck instead because of this exact conversation:

Green Lantern: Come on, Bats. It’s just a game! Choose already. Batman: No. I’m against killing. GL: Oh, go fuck yourself. This situation is completely hypothetical, and you know it. B: Fine! Fuck Bruce, Marry Kylie, Kill Lex. GL: See? That wasn’t so hard :) Bruce:

He tried

Attempt #4: Ah shit, FRIEND?

The identity reveal comes about three years after he joins. He’s 32, has three kids, he’s been on hundreds of missions with them, the team’s over twice its original size, and there are domestic terrorists overtaking Manhattan.

Superman, Wonder Woman, The Flash, Green Lantern, Martian Manhunter, and The Batman try to extract as many civilians as possible, but now they’re being hunted. After hiding in a warehouse and considering their options, MM finally suggests that they pose as civilians, which immediately creates uproar.

Bruce, however, realizes this is the only way out.

But it’s not dramatic or badass like that one JL episode. No, instead, he thinks about it, swallows the regret, and just—

Takes off his cowl.

And the whole room falls dead fucking quiet.

Then, “Oh fuck.”

(That was Green Lantern.)

Bruce just shrugs and mumbles, “Martian is right. It’s the only way.” And really fucking hopes the grease paint hides his red face because he is not having a good time right now.

He would rather die, actually, but they need to get somewhere safe and Fast.

The others look him up and down then nod slowly. “Uh yeah.” “Okay, sure.” “This is fine.” “We’ll do that.”

The others begin slowly taking off their suits and changing into something more casual. Bruce takes his off, revealing the skin-tight compression suit underneath, and stuffs his armor in the roll-up duffel bag that’s kept in his belt.

He changes into his drifter outfit, wipes his face clean, and suddenly, The Batman’s just a normal guy. (A very pretty normal guy, mind you. His teammates have eyes.)

“We can head to my place,” Bruce says. “It’s closer, and I know the train system pretty well.” And yes, he’s pretty soft-spoken outside of the suit, but now it feels even more obvious.

Meanwhile, the others are like—

Oh. My. God.

Oh my god, he’s fucking shy. Batman is acting shy in front of us. Dear fucking god. Batman is Bruce Wayne. And Bruce is shy so Batman is fucking shy?? Bruce is pretty too. Holy fuck. He is very pretty.

And he’s so young?? Oh my god, he’s a BABY wtf?! He’s like four inches shorter. Four inches tall! They’re all towering over him without his massive boots and armor, and he just hunches over with the big duffel bag like he wants to sink into the floor, and he’s so small.

Wonder Woman wants to put him in her pocket.

Sue her.

They end up taking the train back. Bruce has on the mask and cap that hides his face (poor Superman, he really likes his jawline) and they all follow Bruce as he gets off and on several trains at seemingly random stops. THEN when they’re finally in Gotham, they head into an abandoned-looking subway station that leads them into a…cave?? WTF

And in the middle of the cave is an elderly man with a cane and a three-piece suit just lounging on a recliner. (WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK—)

He looks up from his crossword puzzle and says, “Ah! You’ve finally made friends, I see?” Bruce rolls his eyes. “This is not a sleepover,” he gripes. “Shame. I was about to grab your footie pajamas for you.”

The man smiles at them. “A pleasure to meet Master Wayne’s work friends in person. Would you like some coffee? Tea? If you’re like him, this is going to be a long night.”

No one dares to question why this man recognizes them in their civvies

They also can’t tell if the footie pajamas line was a joke or not. After tonight, nothing is off the table.

(This is a minefield of information. Barry is having flashbacks to his conspiracy board. No one is going to fucking believe him.)

They all settle into one corner of the cave. Bruce leaves to change and comes back looking like this:

(Goddamnit, Clark is having a meltdown. His hair looks so good wet.)

At one point while they’re plotting, Wonder Woman glances over his shoulder to see Bruce checking some sort of security camera. A boy, maybe nine or ten, is sleeping in bed. “Is that your son?” Bruce clearly doesn’t want to answer, but Alfred gives him a look, and Bruce sighs. “One of them. Yes.”

Later, they have to analyze some explosive samples in the cave, and Barry, forensic scientist extraordinaire, has some choice words about the non-sterile environment.

Barry: This doesn’t look safe. Bruce: My lab is perfectly clean and functional. *bat screeches* Don’t worry about that.

For the rest of the night, they use the evidence they have to track down the organization while the rest of the JL suits up and saves NYC.

After a few hours, they’re safe to return to NYC for damage control. But Alfred refuses to let Bruce go with them. “Your sons are worried. Drive them to school, then you’re coming home and sleeping.”

Bruce clearly wants to argue, but the mention of his kids stops him. He sighs and turns to the others who are already changed. “Let me know if you need anything. I can be there in ten minutes.”

They all nod, knowing full well they will not be doing that. The guy clearly needs rest.

(Also, he is a single father of three and still goes out every night to punch robbers and crime bosses? Is he doing okay?)

Then they head back to NYC with so many questions.

But a lot of it makes sense too, actually. Maybe they just weren’t thinking about the man behind the mask enough to see it.

They learned a lot about their friend that night.

And they have a lot of bets to cash in.

FIN

Okay :D that was a lot! If you enjoyed it, please let me know. This has been simmering in the back of my head for months <3 Have a great day and drink some water :)

Hey bestie @bruciemilf

[la-undercover-latina]

Mommy Issues (Seonghwea Smut MDNI)

Summary: What happens when you're cuddling your boyfriend and without thinking, you make a comment about another member of Ateez?

There is just filth under the cut, so MDNI brb I'm gonna go dunk myself in Holy Water

In hindsight, you never should’ve challenged your boyfriend like this. But god damn it was it fun.

All because of a damn TikTok. That cursed app got you in trouble so much, but what’s life without a little risk?

Nothing at the start of the evening was out of the norm after Seonghwa got off tour, cuddles while he played Animal Crossing and you doom scrolled TikTok.

Not remembering that you weren’t alone after months of that being the case, you spoke without thinking.

“Damn, those poor San stans, fuck!” You couldn’t help the blush that crawled up your cheeks at seeing your boyfriend’s friend get chained up before Wake Up.

“Come again?” Said boyfriend asked, a brow risen above his glasses.

“Nothing baby,” You patted his head, hoping it would help him forget the words that left your lips moments ago.

Spoiler alert, it didn’t.

“No, what did you just say kitten?” You gulped at the tone Seonghwa used. It was the one that he used when he meant business. And if that didn’t give it away, the use of the word kitten definitely made it crystal clear.

You shook your head, not wanting to awaken the possessive side of your boyfriend. 

In the blink of an eye, he flipped you two so he was on top of you, your hands pinned above your head by one of his large hands.

“I think my kitten is being naughty. What do we do when she’s being naughty?”

“Punish her,” You mumbled, not wanting him to hear you.

“I’m sorry, speak up, I couldn’t hear you,” You shook your head. He grasped your chin in his other large hand.

“I said speak up,” His voice deepened as he slipped into his more dominant persona. The one that made you shake and cry for him either to stop or keep going.

“I don’t wanna,” You whimpered.

“Why not?” He demanded.

“Bcause,”

“Because why?”

“I don’t wanna get punished,” You finally gave him what he wanted. So he had heard you right. And from the look in his hard almost black eyes, he had your punishment picked out.

“Pick a number over 5,”

“Eight,” He smiled a little, knowing why you picked that number. He sat you on his lap. His eyes tracking you like a panther waiting for his prey to enter the trap.

“Bend over Kitten,” You obeyed, resting your belly on your boyfriend’s lap with your ass in the air.

“Good girl,” He purred before ripping your lounge pants down your legs, knowing full well that you weren’t wearing panties since you two were originally winding down  for bed after your shower together.

“Count for me,” You nodded.

Smack

“1,” Your voice was clear in his ears, despite the handprint that was starting to become visible.

Smack

“2,”

Smack

“3,” Your voice started to waver a bit as you felt his large hand start to sting.

Smack

“4,” It started to burn now, making a tear leave your eyes.

“You’re halfway there baby girl,” He switched hands as his first hand started to now sting from spanking you as hard as he could.

Smack

“5,”

Smack

“6,” Your voice wavered as the smacks started to reverberate and spread to the place you now needed him the most.

Smack

“7,”

“You can take one more. This is your punishment, not mine. And you picked the number, not me,”

Smack

“8,”

“Good girl,” He slowly started to massage your now cherry red ass.

“You might as well ride me, Kitten. Since you can’t lay back,” He leaned back, patting his lap, where his cock was strained against his gray sweats.

You swung your legs to straddle him, determined to mess with his head and drive him insane.

“Gotta get rid of these,”

“Who’s the boss here, you or me? Huh? Who was the one being a little slut on TikTok. Looking at someone other than me,” He punctuated every sentence with a roll of his hips, the friction on your bare core making your head swim. 

“You, and I was the bad one,” You whimpered.

“Yes, you were being a bad girl kitten. Now for your punishment,”

“You spanked me! Wasn’t that punishment?”

“That was only part of it. Now’s when the punishment really begins.You’re not allowed to cum until I say so,”

“Okay but no using your tongue. That’s not punishment, that’s torture,” he grasped your chin in one of his large hands again, forcing you to lok him in the eyes.

“First off, who made you think you were in charge of your own punishment? And secondly, who said anything about eating that pretty pussy? But now that you mention it,” he got a devious smirk over his plump lips.

Oh shit!

“If it keeps your eyes from wandering, what’s pleasure without a little suffering? Plus I’m starving,” he growled as he threw you onto the bed, crawling up your body, lapping at your legs. As he got to your thighs, he started to suck harder, even biting a bit. At least enough to give you that sweet mix of pain and pleasure that you oh so craved while he was on tour. You moaned as he inched closer and closer to your heat.

Nothing compared to how your boyfriend ate you out, knowing exactly what areas to put more pressure on than others in order to send you to the heavens. Your hands flew to his hair, wrapping it tightly in your face, making a moan leave Seonghwa’s puffy pink lips.

The moans from him caused a vibration to rub on your pearl, making your own moan rip through the air, and your back to arch.

You were only stopped from him putting one of his large hands on your stomach to keep you still. When he introduced his long dexterous fingers to the mix, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Without warning, he stood up, stripping off his own lounge pants.

“I want to feel you cum on me,” He explained before entrapping your lips in a heated kiss. One where he dominated, and you let him. Seeing as you trying to avoid it was what got you partially in this predicament in the first place.

In record timing, he had his pants down, his cock springing free: red and angry from being hard for so long without release. As quick as he was off you, he was back on you, slipping into your damp heat.

With how long he was on tour, you had to take a second to reacquaint yourself with how big he was.

“Fuck Kitten! You’re so tight. I’m almost afraid to move. Almost,” he smirked before pulling your lips into another kiss and rocking his hips. You had to grasp his hair in your hands. You needed to pull on something, and your boyfriend’s silky jet black locks worked perfectly.

“I can tell you’re close Kitten. Cum for me,” He ordered and it was like you were pulled down in the tidal wave of pleasure at his words, not realizing how much you both needed this.

“Atta girl, Just keep listening to me Kitten,” He acted as your lifeboat in the tidal wave, keeping you grounded to your body.

“F-Fuck!” He hissed before you could finally make out his contorted features as he let his own pleasure fill him before filling you to the brim.

Once you both were back on Earth, the first thing Hwa saw was you running your fingers through his silky locks.

“I love you,” You whispered as his eyes fluttered and he could slowly piece together all of your features. The sex hair leading to the look of bliss in your eyes, and finally, all of the hickeys he left on your skin.

You attempted to stand to get water for both of you and some baby wipes to clean up. Except your legs weren’t cooperating.

“Damn Hwa, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to walk for a bit,” You giggled and he chuckled, pressing another sweet kiss to your lips.

“I’ve got you Kitten,” He told you before throwing a robe on and getting the recoup items.

“It’ll make you think twice about looking at San, right?” He chuckled, handing you the water bottle.

“I don’t know, seeing you get all possessive was kinda fucking hot,”

Taglist: @the-princess-of-mischief-1998 @multidreams-and-desires @faeratil

Read the other guys here: Hongjoong, Mingi

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream as your concert boyfriend!

AN: TDS3 in Manila is NEARRRRRR im so excited im freaking out. (My friend and I got our seats upgraded IM SEEING 119 LIVE IN FRONT ROW KSKFJSDKDSK) also non-idol! dreamies. 

Mark Lee

A hundred percent concert boyfriend! He's always interested in discovering new music so he doesn't mind joining you in watching your favorite boy group's concert. He'll listen to you ramble about your bias and even dresses according to the dress code! You two tend to match each other. Also has a small merch on his bag too, maybe a photocard holder of your bias lol. He's also not shy to ask for freebies and other fans find it sweet that he's saying it's for his girlfriend. :<

Huang Renjun

Another one who's a professional concert boyfriend! I'd like to think that Renjun's a fanboy too but he just stans a different group. He'll still accompany you because he got to make sure you're still his girlfriend at the end of the concert, jk. Oh, he also loves taking pictures of you and it alway turns out great! He asks for freebies too and always asks for two because he wants to keep some freebies for himself. And he also makes sure he enjoys the concert, listens to the setlist weeks before the concert. 

Lee Jeno

You love giving freebies so you need a helping hand in this one. You managed to drag your boyfriend in this one and yes, everyone was freaking out at that good-looking fanboy who's giving out freebies, even though Jeno doesn't know who the members are lol. Such a gentleman, he carries your bag and everything but during the concert, he just watches the group attentively, probably impressed by their performances but glances at you every time you scream your bias name lol. 

Lee Donghyuck

OH. This man, he doesn't want to go to the concert. He doesn't want to see you fangirl over your bias who he said, "doesn't even know you exist," but here he is, on the barricade with you. His body is aching and he's being squished by fans but his priority is still your safety. He makes sure that you're not hurting!!! Probably has his other arm wrapped around your waist. He doesn't want to admit it but he did enjoy the concert and thinks that the group was talented, but he's still a bit jealous though. 

Na Jaemin

SCREAMS, I think that Na Jaemin is your boyfriend turned professional photographer during concerts. He's just there carrying his camera (if it's allowed lol) but he opts for his phone camera all the time. He got to make sure that your photos will turn out great. Takes photo of you everywhere and will praise you all the time for being so beautiful in your concert outfit >:(((. ALSO he films the performances and ments so that you get to fangirl without having to worry about your fancams. 

Zhong Chenle

LISTEN!!! Chenle's THAT concert boyfriend. He'll spoil you rotten first by buying you tickets. Buys you merch, concert outfit and even lightstick! Probably would book a hotel room near the venue if it's too far from your place, so that it wouldn't be a hassle for the both of you. Asks for freebies if he thinks it's cute and he'll keep it for himself though lol. He enjoys the concert though! And after the concert he'll take you out to eat at a fast-food chain because he knows how tired and hungry you are. 

Park Jisung

You probably have to look after your tall but shy boyfriend during the concert lol. He dresses according to the dress code so that he would blend with crowd. But still, he's still a shy baby!!! You two are holding hands throughout the whole concert until you two are in your seat, waiting for the concert to start. Observes the concert especially their performances, you could probably hear his small "wow" or "that's so cool" every minute. After the concert, he probably has a bias too. 

[taegimood]

— yeonjun overstimming himself to make you cum ♡

pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader rating: nsfw, mdni wc: 1k warnings: smut, overstimulation (m receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (m receiving), dirty talk, use of pet names (baby, good girl), tummy bulge, pussydrunk soft dom bf!jun~

a/n - i’ve had this idea for a while now, lots of people seemed to like my other jun thought so here’s another one ♡ my inbox is open, send in requests for any member~!

──────────────────────

your legs tremble with every steady thrust to your cunt that yeonjun delivers, the room hot with moans and labored breaths.

the sight above you is heavenly; his dark hair hanging over his eyes, eyes that are boring into yours as he keeps his lips so tantalizingly close — so close, but just far enough to make you beg for it.

you whine as you chase him into a kiss. moaning into each other’s mouths as his skin slaps against yours, you squeeze your legs tighter around his waist and grip the toned arms that hold him up on either side of you as his pace begins to quicken. “baby..”

you can tell he’s close by the breathlessness in his voice and the way his eyes screw shut, lip tugging between his teeth to stop the moans that threaten to spill.

he’s fucking into you so deliciously. your back arches as the tip of his cock hits particularly deep; with a strangled gasp, your hips buck up into his and the way your pussy clenches around him has yeonjun seeing stars.

“baby, i’m- f-fuck, i’m gonna fill you up so good.” he groans. “such a good girl. pussy so good.. squeezing around me like that, fuck..” you can tell that he’s close. his thrusts grow sloppy, desperate, drilling into you as he chases his approaching high. you’re practically drooling, moans spilling from your parted lips as he hits so deep, so good —

before he can help it, his cum is spilling into you, stuttering thrusts slowing to a stop as he pants heavily; the silver chain around his neck is still swinging as he hovers over you, catching his breath. you whine desperately at the sudden loss of movement, your orgasm so close, now chased away —

as much as you want to cum on his cock, you’re at least happy to have his fingers and tongue to help you meet your high, always the doting boyfriend. but as yeonjun sits up onto his knees, what you don’t expect is for him to grip your hips, yanking you further down on his sensitive cock instead of slipping out of you like he usually would, your legs splayed open over his thighs as your hips lift slightly off the bed.

you both gasp in unison at the feeling. “j-jun-?!”

you’re already lifting yourself up onto your elbows, but yeonjun’s hands remain firm on your hips.

“still gotta make you cum, baby, don’t i? just relax for me,” he breathes. you drop back onto the pillow in surprise as a fresh wave of arousal crashes over you, your boyfriend’s sweaty chest still rising and falling in pants as his brows furrow at the over-sensitivity. “jjunie it’s okay, you can just—“

his first thrust takes the words right off of your tongue and somewhere far, far away, and this new angle has you gripping the sheets for dear life. “fuck,” you gasp out as he picks up the pace into a sharp rhythm, pulling your hips against his with firm slaps of skin on skin, his twitching, hardening cock drilling the deepest parts of you like it’s his job. you can’t stop the lewd moans now, wondering how you’re even able to make any sound at all when he’s fucking you this good.

“that’s it, baby, take it,” he grunts, his eyes glued to the bulge of his big cock in your tummy.

“you like it when i use myself to get you off, huh? you like it when i service you like this?” he chuckles, the filthy wet noises that your pussy is making growing even wetter at his words. “y-yes..” you whimper pathetically, unable to even say anything else.

“so fucked out on my cock, can’t even speak..” he murmurs breathlessly, and despite all his taunts, you can tell that he’s no better than you as his words grow increasingly less convincing and just as desperate-sounding as you feel.

he’s pounding into you so messily, one of his thumbs moving over your clit in quick circles, his lips parted and head lolled back as he releases a loud groan at the way you’re clenching around him so tightly. you can see the way his abdomen is tensing from the sheer overstimulation he’s giving himself in his determination to get you off and you nearly cum just at the thought of it.“jjunie, ‘m so.. so fucking close, p-please.. please..”

“that’s it, baby, fucking cum all over my cock, let go for me, fuck- good girl-“ he gasps out, his voice more of a high whine now than anything, his low dominating tone from before practically evaporating with each thrust. his thumb is moving rapidly over your clit, eyes screwed shut and hips twitching, the over-sensitivity stripping him of any thought other than getting the both of you to cum. “n-need it, jun, need it so bad-!” you’re rambling, gripping onto his hand that still holds your hip, shaking and squirming and desperately trying to buck your hips further into him. you can feel the chord about to snap when your eyes meet his, and just like that, your vision flashes white as your orgasm wracks over your entire body. you can feel yeonjun’s warm cum spurting into you again as he moans out filthily, both of you shaking and slick with sweat as he finally collapses on top of you in a daze.

neither of you speak as you both catch your breath, chests moving fervently against each other’s. yeonjun slumps fully into the crook of your neck.

“holy fuck,” he rasps.

“yeah. holy fuck, yeonjun.”

he lifts his head tiredly to give you a shit-eating grin. his hand moves to soothe up and down your waist; “my stamina is no joke, huh?” you roll your eyes but return his smile anyway, resting your arms around his shoulders as you pull him down into a kiss. “can’t believe you did that..” you mumble shyly. he nuzzles his face into your cheek, peppering it with kisses, and you giggle.

“gotta give my best for my baby.”

[mikkomacko]

Him and I - Boss

Mob Boss Nico x Reader

Chapter 5

Warnings: blood, violence, murder, Nico and reader fight a lot

A/n: Ok this one has a lot going on but I couldn't just skip over reader and Nico recovering from her being taken. The next chapter will be much sweeter, I swear!

Enjoy!

_____________________________________________________________

For the whole trip, every time Nico closed his eyes he could see it perfectly. The mountains in the back, snow capped and beautiful. You love the mountains in the winter, love the snow.

He’d make sure you’re wearing that cute red and white snowsuit you love, the one he’d gotten you for snowmobiling last year. He was gonna take you to get your nails done, help you pick out a cute pearly white color and then sit with you and let them paint a clear coat on his own finger nails and do the whole hand massage and oil thing. And he was gonna act like he hated it, like he was doing you a favor when I reality he loved it. All because it made you smile.

Then he was gonna take up the gondola, let you take selfies with him kissing your cheeks or squishing your cheeks together. Dinner at the resort, fancy and expensive and beautiful, all things you deserve.

When the sun started to set, alpenglow hitting the peaks of the mountain you’d have the perfect view from the private table. And he get down on his knee, just like you asked, and pull out the ring he’d had made specifically for you by the watchmaker he loves, and tell you everything. Tell you how much he loves you, how you steady him and make everything seem so easy, how you quiet his mind and make his heart race, how you took a stupid, rich teenage boy and turned him into a man he is proud to be.

And he’d ask you to marry him. And you’d say yes, obviously. He’d slide the ring on and kiss you, hold your pretty face between his palms until the sun set and he could take you home, kiss you even more. Spread you out on the bed and fuck you until the sun rose again in the morning.

It was going to be perfect.

He thinks of that as he stares at your left hand, ring finger bare and cold in his palm. This time tomorrow and you would’ve had your ring, the third item to solidify not only your place in his life, but in the Devs.

That’s the order him and the others agreed on for partners year ago. The pendant of the Devil, to show that you’re protected by them. The ring engraved with your name and little flames, always worn on the right pinky by members but anywhere on the body for partners. Yours sits around the chain on your neck, clinks against the pendant. It shows that you’re one of them, a member of the family.

And finally the wedding ring, the thing that gives you his last name and his power. It shows his love for you. The most important one of all.

The sudden blimp of the heart monitor scares him, has him jolting to his feet and squeezing your hand as he looks to the screen. Your heart rates keeps spiking, beeping loudly in the room and he manages to catch your right hand as you reach up for your neck.

“You’re ok, you’re ok,” he quickly soothes, preventing you from touching the brace the doctors strapped around your neck.

Your eyes are wide and terrified when they meet his, gaze darting between his eyes in confusion and panic. Your lips part to speak but he shushes you before you do.

“No baby don’t talk, it’s ok.” He squeezes your hands, brings them back down to the hospital bed. “You’re just a little swollen, ok? The brace is to help bring it down.”

He waits for you to calm down, the monitor slowing back to normal before letting go. You inhale shakily through your nose, breath quivering when you exhale.

Smoothing your hair down, he rests his free hand against the side of your head and looks you over. Despite the bandage on your forehead and the puffiness of your eyes, you look so beautiful. If he ignores the brace and the cotton, you don’t even look hurt.

His heart squeezes.

“I’m so sorry y/n,” he whispers, feeling physically itchy with guilt. “I shouldn’t have left you alone, I should’ve listened to you and taken you right home.”

Tears build up in your waterline, taunting him and he starts shaking his head. He really does not want to see you cry.

“Sorry,” you whisper instead, voice raw and hoarse. He’s not sure if you’re even supposed to be talking, the doctors didn’t tell him. “I know better, should’ve stayed with you.”

Chest aching, he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, being mindful of any injuries he may bump. “We’ll talk about it when you’re better, yeah? You can tell me what happened.”

He pulls back to see you stiffly nod, as best you can around the brace. Wiping away the stray tear on your cheek, he huffs out a breath and tries to relax.

It’s impossible.

“I’m gonna get a nurse,” he steps back, turning to find the call button. Your hand latches around his like a vice, body jolting up in the bed and he freezes, finger hovering over the phone symbol.

You look a little confused by your own actions, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed, but your eyes tell him everything. They always have.

You’re scared.

A part of him melts knowing that in moments of fear you want him, that you see him as safety and protection. It’s not anything new, but Nico likes the reminder. It means he’s doing something right.

The rest of him just feels angry. He’s so fucking angry that he let this happen, that he let his stubbornness and rejection get you hurt.

“M’right here,” he swears, “was just gonna use the call button.”

Sheepishly, you nod and lay back against the pillows, watchful gaze following him as he presses on the button.

The nurse enters your private room, smiling when she sees that you’re up and coherent. Nico has to let go of your hand so she can check your vitals again but he stays planted right next to your head, watching over you.

She takes your blood pressure, asking you about how you’re feeling and letting you know that you can try to speak normally. There’s no drastic damage to your vocal cords, and use will help make sure you get your voice back.

Nico listens in but takes a second to text Timo and his family that you’re awake and talking. He’s not sure where Luca has taken Marcelo and Lena, but he assumes his brother will find time to stop by and let him know.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

He puts his phone away, immediately tuning back into the conversation. The nurse is shining a light in your eyes, your dark pupil following it but he sees the confusion that clouds them all the same.

“I was at a party,” you reply, clearing your throat and wincing. You take a second to think, blinking when the nurse turns the light off. “I was at a party and-and I was mad at Nico and I didn’t know what anyone was saying…”

Nico thinks of Anna and her friends, confused because he knows she would translate for you and make sure to speak you to in English. Part of the reason he was ok with separating from you was because he trusts her to be watchful.

“I just needed a second of quiet so I went outside…” you continue “and then I remember a lot of blood and feeling really sick. And Nico was there.”

It’s terrible but he relaxes a bit after hearing that. Obviously it’s not great that you don’t remember; that means your head injury was pretty bad, but on the other hand he doesn’t want you remembering that.

It’s bad enough you remember him shooting Lena.

“Ok, good.” The nurse compliments. “That’s a great start. It’s typical that as you recover more memories will come back to you. There’s not really a time table for when but just keep that in mind.”

She goes over a few more things with you, making sure Nico is listening since you might have trouble remembering. He waits for her to leave before pulling out his phone, writing down the reminders in his notes apps even though he knows he won't forget.

He tucks it back in his pocket, looks up to see you watching him with sad eyes. "You look miserable," you say, reaching out towards him. Stepping closer, he lets you take a hold of his arm and pull him into sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Didn't think you'd remember me shooting Lena," he explains "I don't like when you see those things."

Your hand runs up his bicep and around his shoulder, finding the ends of his hair on the nape of his neck. "I'm glad," you say, a tiny smile on your lips. "I hate her."

"Yeah," he agrees, smiling a bit too.

"Did you kill her?"

He shakes his head. "Marcello?"

"No, not sure what Luca did with them yet."

You go quiet, fingers playing with his hair but your eyes get that far away look in them. "I get to do it," you finally murmur, eyes flickering up to his face. He can't stop the look of surprise on his face, eyebrows shooting up.

"If you decide to do something, I get to do it. At least to Marcello."

"No," Nico immediately declines, impressed by your request but not even considering it. "I'm not putting your prints on anything around that."

"You don't get to decide." you argue, eyes narrowing into a threatening look. "I'm the one laying in the hospital bed, I get to decide."

He scoffs back a laugh, feels the scold on the tip of his tongue because he's in charge, not you. Yeah he lets you pull him around a lot, but when it comes to people from his past, in his home country, hurting you? That's his to deal with.

"M'not budging on this y/n," he says instead "and I'm not fighting with you about it. I don't want you near them."

Your mad, he knows that. Can tell by the bratty way you roll your eyes, your hand falling from his hair as you cross your arms over your chest and turn your glare to the window. Even the tick of your jaw, knows your biting at the inside of your cheek.

Luckily the tension between you two is cut after a moment because Timo comes barreling into the room with a bag of goodies and Nico's siblings following behind him.

"Bestie boo," he cheers, and Nico rises from the bed to get out of the way. He doesn't miss the way you light up, all the fight in you dissipating as you too grin at Timo.

He begins to dump out the contents of the bag, a few drinks and snacks that you like, a fuzzy blanket from Nico's room back at the house and some clothes for you. Nico shakes his head, moving over to hug Nina and Luca.

"How's she doing?" Nina asks him quietly, glancing over at you and Timo. Luca leans in, wanting to listen in without letting you overhear.

"She's ok," Nico sighs, "been through worse but she's scared and a little confused still. Doesn't really remember what happened before we got there."

Nina frowns sympathetically. "Did she ask-"

"Yeah, she asked about them." He grumbles, rolling his eyes. "She wants to take care of Marcello but I don't want her near them so we gotta do it before she's released tomorrow."

Luca's eyes widen, an amused smile splitting his face. "Really? I underestimated her little bro. Maybe we should let her-"

"No."

"Come on Nico, its her right-"

"I said no." Both Luca and Nina step back at his tone, not used to hearing him like that. In all fairness, they haven't seen him this protective over something since he was 8 and found a stray cat on his walk home from school.

He clears his throat, rolls out the tension in his shoulders. "We're gonna do it tonight. Nina will stay here with her, make sure she's ok until I get back."

Zeroing in on his sister, he points back towards you. "Under no circumstance do you let her know what we're doing. And no matter how bratty and whiny she gets about it- because she will- do you sign her out early. I mean it Nina, no sisterhood here or whatever, she stays in that bed."

It's obvious she doesn't agree with him, the way she guiltily looks over his shoulder at you but either way she nods. "Understood, Nico."

"I'll tell Maja to come back her up," Luca says, "She won't crack like this one will."

Nico nods, thanking them before motioning over to you. The three siblings move closer, stand around the bed as Timo offers you his list of favorite movies to watch while your stuck in bed. You've laid the blanket out on your lap, the teddy bear from Nico's childhood bedroom squished under your elbow, and an open pint of Gelato in hand. Timo blabbers away, you lick at the spoon in hand, and just nod along.

You look happy. Eyes shining and cheeks smiling, and it's such a relief to Nico. Maybe he should leave Timo here with you, at least then you'll have a distraction you actually like. Unfortunately he needs his second hand man for this one, so you'll just have to deal.

Nina climbs up onto the bottom of the bed, adding her one thoughts on the movie Timo is gushing about and Luca takes over the chair at your bedside.

He smiles, reaches up to push back your hair and press the lightest kiss possible to your hairline. You ignore him, taking another bite of your dessert and laughing at something his sister says. Luca has dug out a spoon from somewhere, and he's reaching around Timo to steal from your pint.

You tilt it towards him, eyes widening when he takes a huge glob out and shoves it in his cheeks, smiling innocently. Nico can tell it'd coffee flavored now, your favorite, and he reaches for the spoon in your hand only for you to snatch it away.

Then your shooting him a cold look over your shoulder, simply tilting your head when he raises an unimpressed eyebrow at you. You turn back towards Timo, ignoring how both Luca and Nina are looking between you two with concern.

He huffs, clicks his jaw and looks at his sister.

Brat, he mouths, shaking his head when you share a bite with Timo this time. What is he going to do with you?

~~~~

The nurse comes back a few hours later. Your squished on the bed with Nina, laptop hooked up to the TV and watching a movie about rowing that Timo really liked. Him and Nico have folded the couch down into a bed, and they're sprawled out on it eating chips watching as well. Luca fell asleep about ten minutes in, sock clad feet propped up on your bed and head rolled back on the chair.

You're all so engrossed in the movie you don't notice her at first. At least until the lights are flickering back on and everyone is temporarily blinded.

Shooting up like their asses are on fire, Timo clambers to his feet and pauses the movie. Nico rises, shoving his feet back in his shoes and walking over to you bedside.

"Sorry to interrupt, I just came to see how you're feeling and offer to take that brace for you."

Sighing out in relief. "Oh god yes please," you practically beg, sitting up. Nina slips off the bed and over by Timo, motioning for a bleary eyed Luca to follow. He yawns, smacks his lips before getting up and dragging his feet over.

"We're uh gonna step out." Timo offers, turning towards the door and pushing Nico's siblings out with him. He shakes his head, watches them all leave the room without their shoes.

"It must be nice, having so many friends around." The nurse comments, pulling on latex gloves.

"Yeah," you agree, "I'd be miserable laying here all day without them."

Nico stands over you again, protective and watchful as the nurse steps up to your side and reached towards the brace.

"It's gonna be sore and uncomfortable, but the swelling should be gone for the most part," she informs and you nod. "I am going to bring you an ice pack to keep on it just for comfort and it'll help with bruising."

You take a deep breath, nod again and her fingers latch on the velcro in the back. Squeezing your eyes shut, the sound of the velcro unsticking cuts through the room and you jump just the slightest bit.

His hand finds yours, fingers intertwining and you squeeze hard enough that your nails pinch at his skin. Not that he cares, not when the brace falls loose and away from your neck, and he's coming face to face with the lines of bruising.

It looks awful, all dark blue and purple. You wince, the column of your throat flinching and Nico thinks he might throw up. Fuck, he doesn't even know how you've been talking and laughing so much with that kind of injury.

Finally, you open your eyes and let out a shaky breath. Titling your head up, you let the nurse gently feel over the tender flesh. You squeeze his hand tighter, looking up at the ceiling and blinking back tears.

"You're hurting her," Nico grumbles, and the nurse removes her hands.

"I'm ok," you swear, "really you didn't have to-"

"Yeah you did," Nico cuts in, shooting you a warning look. "Let her at least ice it before you go poking around."

Pursing her lips, the nurse inhales and nods. "I'll be back with ice," she tells you, taking the brace with her. "but you're looking really good so far. It could've been a lot worse."

Neither you nor Nico speak until she's left the room. The door clicks shut and you're taking your hand out of his, instead tucking them under your arms.

"She's just doing her job," you mumble, staring ahead rather than at him. He huffs, annoyance bubbling under his skin and he rakes his hands through his hair.

"Ok you can be mad at me," he grits, "but you don't get to act like this. If you're gonna be a brat go ahead, but not in front of everyone like that. I'm trying to look out for you-"

"I can take care of myself!"

"You obviously can't!" He exclaims, a little harsher than he meant to but it gets the point across because you're actually looking at him right now. "Look at where we are, y/n. You couldn't take care of yourself, fuck even I couldn't take care of you."

Your eyes shift, realization setting in. "Nico..."

"Be mad at me, baby, please do but until we're back home I'm in charge. And I'm not taking any fucking chances."

His chest is heaving when he's done, guilt settling into the place of the anger when he looks at your stupidly soft eyes and the bruises that marr your skin.

You don't say anything for a moment, and he rubs at his forehead where he's got a headache building. "I want to take a shower," you finally say. "Will you sit in there with me?"

He nods. "Yeah of course."

~~~~

Timo, Luca, and Nina have returned to the room when Nico follows you out of the bathroom. Someone has made your bed for you, the fuzzy blanket you love laid out nicely with the teddy bear tucked against the pillows. You've changed into sweats and one of Nico's shirts, already feeling better now that you're clean and back in your own clothes.

You can tell the moment they register the bruises on your neck and the stitches on your forehead. It's like all the air is sucked out of the room, the sharp inhale of Nina rattling you.

Shrinking into yourself, you force a small smile as you climb back onto the bed. You can feel Nico glaring at them over your head, biting back a laugh when it has the same effect on his older siblings as it does his men. He's so good at bossing people around.

"It'll look better when I ice it," you say, combing through your damp hair. Nico runs a hand up your spine, gingerly holds the back of your neck.

"It looks fine now," he responds, "trust me, nothing could ever make you look not beautiful."

You tilt your head back, meeting his gaze and smiling gratefully. He ducks down, kisses between your eyes before taking the brush for you and finishing untangling you hair.

"The only one of us that looks pathetic with bruises is Nico," Timo jokes, sending you a wink. "That's why they take months to go away on him."

"That and he's always pressing on them." You respond, giggling when Nico scoffs behind you.

"I forgot to tell him to grab your bathroom stuff," Nico changes the subject "so I don't have any of your hair products."

"That's ok-"

"I can braid your hair for you!" Nina offers, smiling widely. "I love to braid other people's hair and I never get to. "

You laugh. "Yeah okay!"

Nico moves out the way, handing the hair brush and a tie to his sister. She stands behind you, carefully dragging the brush through your hair again. Nico sits at the foot of the bed, watching his sister with apprehensive eyes.

"Watch out for her stitches Nina."

You roll your eyes. "I know Nico," she scoffs, "I am older than you, ya know?"

He holds his hands up in defense but stays exactly where he is. Thankfully Nina is really careful when she parts and braids your hair, leaving it loose so it'll still dry but also not pull at your stitches. The soothing motion of her fingers and Nico's protective gaze lull you, and by the time she's done your blinking sluggishly at your boyfriend.

"Alright," he grunts, rising from the bed. "I think it's nap time for you baby."

There's something off about him when he helps you slip under the blankets, tucking his teddy bear into your chest and pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. He exchanges an odd look with his brother before perching on the edge of the bed, cupping the side of your face in his warm palm.

You yawn, snuggle into his hold. "M'gonna put the TV back on for you, ok?"

Eyes fluttering, you nod.

"I gotta run for a bit but I'll be back before you know it. And you can call me if you need absolutely anything."

The thing about Nico is that he never likes to tell the full story. He's not usually like that with you but with the younger boys, yeah. And you can always tell when he does it because he gets all calm and sweet about it, more than he usually is. He also gets vague.

Which is how you know this run he is taking, obviously with his brother, is to take care of Lena and Marcello. Hurt, you sit up and look at him with knowing eyes, hoping he'll cave and tell you the truth.

Instead he clears his throat, looks down at his feet and then runs his hands over his thighs. "I uh, I put Luca's number in your phone too, just in case." He says, getting up and moving around the room to collect his things.

Crouching down, he hits play on the laptop for you. You look over at Timo, see the guilty pull on his face. Luca looks guilty too but when he meets your gaze, he winks and then sticks his tongue out at his brother.

"Good, get outta here." Nina cuts in, voice far too cheery to be believable. "We need girl time, I'm inviting Maja."

Nico's tucking his wallet back into his jeans pocket when he finally looks at you again, jaw ticking when you simply stare back at him with begging eyes. You want to yell at him, to cry, to tell him that you deserve to have a place in this. That you need this.

Instead you bite your tongue, turn your gaze to the window outside when your eyes sting, and silently wait for them to leave. You hear him sigh, then his footsteps as he heads towards the door. Timo is the only one to call out goodbye.

Feeling betrayed, you ignore them all, even Nina, and close your eyes. You have a headache again.

~~~~

You wake up from the insistent buzzing of your phone, sleep riddled brain assuming it’s Nico. When you read the screen it’s not in fact your boyfriend, but might as well be.

“Hey Holtzy,” you answer, looking around the hospital room. Nina and Maja are nowhere to be seen, but neither are Nico and Timo. Your stomach twists, anger bubbling in your throat.

“Oh god you sound awful,” he moans woefully. “I told Nico he should’ve let me go too. With three of us there you’d have been fine.”

“I am fine,” you insist, forcing a laugh. “It’s really not that bad, Nico is just dramatic.”

“Well yeah he’d probably die without you.”

Your heart warms. The boys used to always tell you how tough he was, how the only thing that kept them from messing up was that terrifying flare in his eyes when he’s pissed. It’s sweet that they point out how loving he is with you.

“You’d all die without me,” you reply, looking up as Nina and Maja enter the room. They carrying bags of food, Nina waving around the packages in greeting.

Forcing a smile, you gently wave back. If her and Maja are still here that means Nico is still gone. And it’s been hours. There’s only one thing a man that protective and angry can be doing for this long.

Wreaking havoc. Havoc you should be a part of. You bite your cheek.

“Oh yeah,” Alex agrees easily. He gets quiet for a moment. “Can I FaceTime you? Just to see that you’re ok?”

You melt. “Yeah of course.”

Pulling the phone back from your ear, you hit the FaceTime button. It rings for a half second and then a grainy picture of Alex pops up.

“Hi mom,” he greets, the picture coming into focus. He’s got that big, cheesy Alex smile on his face and it’s makes you laugh.

“Shut up,” you giggle, then realize the background behind him. “Are you in my room?”

Alex pulls the phone back, holding it up so you can see that he’s actually tucked under the blankets like he’s sleeping there. You catch a flash of the paws of the dog at his feet. At least you know he’s actually taking care of your baby.

“You asked me to house sit.”

“I thought you might sleep in the room I decorated and made for you.”

“I like your bed,” he shrugs, putting the phone back down. “And I miss you. And Nico too I guess but don’t tell him in your bed. Wait- he’s not listening right?”

You laugh again. “No he’s not here right now. I’m with his sisters.”

"He's not with you? That's fucked. I'll go out right now and sit there with you. So will Merc and Luke, they told me."

A part of you wants to say yes. "I'll be ok. You know how Nico is, I probably won't see him again until it's time to go home."

Alex makes a noise of disagreement. “Timo made it seem like you were dying, ya know? Like I thought we were about to be taken out to Switzerland to wage war, he was so angry.”

You shrug, flattered but mostly annoyed. “Yeah, I like that idea."

Alex hums, the line going quiet for a moment. “Well I’m really glad you’re ok,” he murmurs “and I’m sorry it happened to you. I can’t imagine how scary that would be.”

You shrug again. “I mean, worse has happened. Besides, I knew what I was getting into when I got with Nico. It’s just a part of the life.”

“Crappy though, that it always happens to you.” He comments.

“Only twice,” you awkwardly laugh. “Besides, I got Johnny out of it the last time so.”

“So even though it was worse at least you got your Italian buddy.”

You nod, trying not to think about the run in with the Flyers all that time ago. Honestly, you’re lucky that as the girlfriend of a very powerful mob boss, you haven’t been taken and threaten more. You suppose that’s a testament to Nico and how he trains his men.

“Ok I know it’s late there so go to bed, yeah? I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

Alex sighs but nods. “Ok, call me if you get sad or lonely.”

You bite back a laugh, knowing he’s the one that’s lonely and wants to talk but won’t admit it. “Of course,” you agree. “Night Holtzy.”

“Night y/n. Feel better.”

You wave, waiting for him to hang up first. When he does you drop your phone to the bed, expectantly looking over at the girls.

If they can read your gaze, they don’t say anything about it. Instead Maja tilts her head sympathetically. “How are you doing sweets?”

“Fine,” you respond, raising an eyebrow at Nina who is pointedly avoiding your eyes. “Nico still gone?”

Frowning, she looks at you guiltily. Her eyes look so much like Nico’s. “Yeah he’s still out.”

You nod, checking the time, wishing you were home. You already miss Alex. It's torture, sitting and stewing in this bed as you go over and over the words you should've told Nico. You feel helpless, almost as helpless as being tied to a fucking chair. Especially when you go to get up from bed and both Nina and Maja rise too.

They're under orders from Nico. They're your security guards. You almost roll your eyes, veins hot with rage and disbelief.

"I was just gonna go for a walk." You say.

"We'll come with!"

"No, that's ok," you decline, tilting your head, daring Nina to argue. "I have a headache and just need quiet. Besides your eating, I'll only be ten minutes."

She hesitates, shares a look with Maja but eventually they both settle back onto the couch. You think Nico and her might have underestimated how scary you can be when you're enraged.

Without another word, you grab and phone and make your way out of the room. You go slow, not wanting to worry them but truth is you feel fine aside from the head and neck pain.

Waiting until your a few corridors away from your room, you pull out your phone and pull up Luca's contact. You hit call, holding it up to your ear. It rings for awhile but he does pick up.

"Well hello there," he greets smugly. "I had a feeling this was coming."

You smirk, pleased to know you gauged him correctly. "Don't act too chummy, Nico will know it's me." You warn, looking around for Nina or Maja. No one has followed you.

"I need a favor."

You can hear his delighted smile even if you can't see it.

"Hit me with the plan, then."

~~~~

The plan comes through the next morning. Nico has yet to return from his "business" and you know he must be taking it seriously because he's yet to notice that late last night you had his jet fly to Newark and back, this time with your men onboard.

Luca, as the king of Switzerland, used his pull to get you discharged early, hours earlier than Nico had originally planned. You're already up and silently packing your things when the doctor comes in with the discharge forms. The click of the door wakes Nina from her slumber on the couch bed, and she sits up all bleary eyed and confused, looking around the room with confusion.

You don't even bother greeting the doctor, just take the form and sign it, stuffing the recovery papers in your bag.

"What's going on?"

You look over your shoulder at her. "I'm going home early," you say, tucking your phone into your pocket. Nina quickly gets up, stumbling to find her shoes.

"You can't-"

"If you and Nico want to play games with me, that's fine." You cut off harshly, "but I can play them back. Rat me out, call Nico, I don't care, you're not stopping me."

"Y/n..." she sighs sadly, and you're a little disappointed in her lack of fight. Turning around, you cross your arms and glare at her.

"You of all people should get it Nina," you scold "I deserve to fight this fight for myself. I was the one hurt, not Nico or you or Timo. I gave up my whole fucking life, my family for this and no matter how much I train or help out you still think it's ok for Nico to stick me with a babysitter and lie to me?

"I'm just as capable as the rest of you."

Nina looks guilty, her features melting down into one of shame and you'd maybe feel bad if you weren't so upset.

"I- I'm not gonna call Nico," Nina murmurs, "you're right, you deserve to see them at the least so go ahead. Just let me know if you need anything ok?"

"Thank you," you say earnestly. "I'll keep you updated."

She quickly walks over, gently hugs you and strokes through your hair. "Be safe, be smart."

You grin, nodding in agreement before stalking out the room. Luca has arranged for a car to pick up Mercer, Luke, Jack, and Alex from the airport, and that car sits outside the hospital doors when you step out.

The windows are tinted so dark you can't see through them, but Mercer rolls down the passenger seat window to grin at you. You light up at the sight of his gapped smile, laughing as you yank open the doors and climb in.

"Why hello boys," you greet, turning around to smile at the triplets in the back. Alex reaches forward, ruffles your hair.

"Good to see ya boss." Jack greets, kneeing the back of your seat.

"Where are we heading?"

You roll up the window, punch in the address to the house you've been staying at. "Need a quick stop to change and get my things, then we've got ourselves a hot date."

Mercer pulls out onto the road, smirking devilishly as he does so.

~~~~

Luca's funny, you'll give him that. He's left Lena and Marcello and whatever other aiders and abetters locked up in the same house they'd taken you too. The car Nico and Timo have been driving around is parked in the drive, and you and the boys pull up next to it and hop out.

"Everything should be in the trunk," you instruct, knowing Luca left it unlocked. Sure enough when Jack pulls the hatch open, an array of guns, ropes, knives, and weapons are splayed out.

The boys are all eager as they choose their guns, Luke giggling goofily as he stocks up on ammo. You let them all pick first, tying the signature red bandana around the tender skin of your throat. They've all knotted theirs around the meat of their thigh, bright against their black jeans.

You take a pistol and three rounds of ammo, stuffing them into the black cargos you put on earlier. Just in case, you hook a medium sized knife on the waistband too. The sleek and thin tranquilizing gun they never use slips easily into your waistband too.

"Alright, we're going around back. Luca's left a window open that Jack can slip through to let us in the door. I'll lead us down to the basement and you'll follow my lead."

Lined up like soldiers, they all nod in agreement.

"Any instructions from Nico go unheard, you're with me and will follow my orders. If he tries to fight us, I will take care of it."

"Yes boss," they chirp in unison and you can't help but smirk. Nico has trained them well, you'll give him that. Too bad he also trained them to be loyal to you too.

You don't remember much about the house, just that the floors were white when you got there, and red when you left. In a way it's nice that you don't remember, it makes it easier to step inside and silently cross the large room. The chair you'd been tied to is nowhere to be seen, but the large pool of dried, flaking blood still is. You're unsure of how much of it is yours and how much of it is Lena's.

The boys are bit too heavy footed on the staircase down to the basement, so by the time you're stepping through the threshold all eyes are already watching. Both Nico and Timo are armed, the barrel of their guns trained on you. Luca is holding his lazily, looking proud when you meet his gaze, your own pistol in hand.

Nico's eyes are furious. You've never seen them so black, so enraged before and it makes you're blood boil. You're very confident you can out-anger him.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He demands, but you ignore him, instead looking around the room. The floor is a dull, cement grey color with drains. There's doors to other hallways or rooms, you assume, most likely holding places for hostages. You don't need to explore them luckily, because the two people of concern are chained on their knees at your boyfriend's feet anyway.

"Let me in or I'm jumping down the stairs," Jack comments behind you, and you catch the way Nico bawks, obviously recognizing the voice. Motioning behind you for them to follow, you take a few steps further in. One-by-one they file in, lining up next to you with their guns in hand.

"Are you-fuck y/n..." Nico's staggering for words, clicking the safety back on his gun and shoving it his waistband behind his back Timo does the same, but Luca just casually waves his at you.

You meet the burning gaze of Nico, take in how splotchy his cheeks have gotten, how his eyebrows scrunch and teeth clench. He's got that mean flare of his nose and curl of his lips, but you don't care.

He angers even more at your lack of response, snarling as he steps forward and you can already sense him reaching out to take ahold of your wrist. You flinch, step back and lifting your pistol towards him. It's on safety, he knows that, you know that. But the motion stops him all the same.

Freezing, he narrows his eyes at you. It's a cruel look, mocking and cold. "You're not gonna shoot me, sweetheart."

You shrug, tucking the gun away on the holster o your thigh. Nico smirks, amused and condescending. The look doesn't last long, not after you draw out the tranquilizing and aim at the thick part of his thigh.

"You must think I'm really fucking stupid, huh?" you spit, so angry you feel like you're vibrating. You don't give him the chance to respond. "A fragile little lapdog of a mob wife, stuck in a locked room with a fucking babysitter. Laying around and waiting for you to fix everything."

The pause in your words gives him a chance to speak. "I left you somewhere safe," he hisses "I left you in the best place to be dotted on and cared for while you get better! I-"

"You lied to me!" You yell, "you looked me in the eye and said you had errands to run, that you'd be back soon. And you knew I didn't believe it, you knew how much it fucking hurt and you still did it!"

He scoffs, shaking his head and you know he's trying to blow you off, trying to take control of everything like he always does. Clicking his tongue he looks behind you at the boys.

"Take her and get out," he barks, letting his gaze linger on all of them. When they don't budge, he gets angrier.

"Now, you little shits! You shouldn't even be here!"

Loyal, none of them move. You tilt your head, smug when he looks at you.

"Aim," you instruct, and as if they were being controlled by puppet strings, all four boys lift their weapons and aim at Nico's feet. Shocked, he looks around bewildered.

"You see, when I told them that their boss had left abandoned me at the hospital for hours to keep me from fighting my own battles, they were pissed. I mean everyone knows how you've been training me, how hard you and Timo have been pushing me so that Philly never happens again, and then you take away something I've earned, well they were upset.

"Rightfully so since they're my men as well."

Nico looks around for help, shooting Timo and Luca a look as if to say "what the fuck is happening?". He must read his brother really well though, because his shoulders tense when he sees Luca's sparkling eyes.

"Luca, you didn't," he sighs, "tell me you're not in on this."

The older Hischier purses his lips, waits a moment before taking a step over to join you. "She had a good plan," he defends "and good reasoning for being here."

Lining up next to the boys, Luca joins them in aiming at Timo's feet.

"I know you don't get it Nico," you comment "I know you think that you were doing the right thing, that you were protecting me. But you never even stopped to consider what this means for me.

"I've spent so many nights dreaming about Philly, I wake up with my hands numb from all the times I've imagined fighting back, proving myself. Because it was humiliating and dehumanizing, and I'll never get the revenge I deserve for what happened."

Your words have stalled him, shaken him if the softening brown of his eyes is anything to go by. If there's anyone that loathes Philly as much as you do, it's Nico.

"Almost as humiliating as having my supposed fiance lie to my face in front of his whole family, force my best friend to turn his back on me, treat me like some broken little girl.

"I'm not broken, I can handle this life, I chose this life. And you don't get to decide when and where I can actually be a part of it."

Knowing you've got him, you tuck away the tranquilizing gun in exchange for your pistol. Clicking the safety off, you step towards Nico. He looks almost ashamed now, like a puppy that's been kicked and scolded too many times.

"Did you stop for a moment and think that maybe I'd get my memories back if I got to come here again? If I got to see them? That maybe I can piece together what happened if I looked them in the eye one last time?"

Embarrassed, he shakes his head and reaches out for your hip. "I don't want you to remember, I don't want you knowing how they hurt you."

Stepping away from him, you scoff. "You don't get to choose that Nico! I deserve to know everything."

With a flick of your hand over your shoulder, the boys all follow closer behind you, their weapons pushing Nico off to the side so you can step around him.

"I also deserve to keep my promise." You murmur, finally taking in the two kneeling before you. They look awful. Marcello, bloodied and bruised, shaking on the cement floor. He doesn't even look up at you.

Lena on the other hand does, not as badly beaten as her cohort, but her lip is split open and there's an old ratty bandage around her thigh, blood stained and brown.

She's crying when she meets your gaze, begging and pathetic, and it makes you laugh. You don't break eye contact as you aim the gun at Marcello.

"I did say I'd be the one putting the bullet between his eyes, didn't I?"

You don't wait for her to answer, finger easily finding the trigger and with a ringing bang, Marcello slumps to the floor. Lena screams, wails harder and harder.

"Y/n, please. I'm sorry, I didn't-"

You lock the gun and put it away, cutting her off with a gentle shush. "I'm not gonna kill you," you tell her. "I'm not even gonna touch you. It's beneath me really.

"Making bad people suffer, however isn't. So I have a plan for you, with the help of my brother-in -law back there that controls all of Switzerland."

Lena sniffles, hiccuping and shaking her head.

"As of now you're no longer a Swiss citizen. You and you're family have been exiled, away from Europe and away from North America. And when I unchain you and I fix up that thigh of yours, you gonna be escorted out without a single belonging. In fact, I think your parents have just been deported.

"Anyway, you're going to hobble out of here and be grateful that I'm such a forgiving person. Because I should kill you, for what you did to me, for what you did to Nico, using him like that. Instead you'll spend the rest of your life poor and pathetic, and when you think of me you'll remember that not only am I sleeping with the Jersey king every night, but the Swiss one takes orders from me as well."

Glaring, you turn to Mercer and nod towards Lena. "Unchain her and take her upstairs, I know a real cozy spot she can wait in while I finish up."

~~~~

You've calmed down by the time you finish cleaning and stitching up Lena's bullet wound. So has Nico, who's standing by the open hatch of the car, head hanging low as he changes out of his stained and dirty shirt.

He looks up when he hears your footsteps, everything in his gaze hurt and sad. You imagine you look the exact same.

You pause in front of him, begin unloading the weapons from your pants. "You left me there overnight," you mumble, placing the guns and ammo back where they belong.

"I was trying to hurry, I promise."

"No you weren't" you laugh humorlessly "because you were mad and hurt, and I was hurt, so you wanted them to hurt even more." He doesn't even deny it.

"I had a nightmare," you admit, voice wobbling. "that I was back here and everytime you got close enough to me, I'd blink and it'd be Marcello instead. It really sucked to wake up and not be able to tell if it was a dream, because you still weren't there."

Nico sniffles and you look up to find him standing over you, eyes glossy and red-rimmed. "I had to do something," he explains, voice cracking. "I was so fucking angry and guilty I thought I was gonna explode. And I didn't want you seeing me like that."

You frown. "I'm not scared of you Nico, ever."

"You might have been, if you saw the way I tore through everyone in there."

"When are you going to understand that I'll always pick you, I'll always be on your side? Even when you pull shit like this?"

His hands find your hips, drawing you the slightest bit closer to him. "When are you going to understand that I love you more than anything in the world? That I get mean and tough because I'd literally fucking die without you, and that's scary. And I don't know how to show you that, so I do it by protecting you."

You reach out for his shoulders, let your fingers feel the smooth skin of him, pink and cold in the winter air. "You can protect me and still let me rule by your side," you tell him. "I didn't want to come here and hurt them, interfere with you. But I needed to see it, for myself."

Nico nods, his wet eyes searching your face. "I'm so sorry, baby. I should've let you fight with me, be a brat whatever. Most of the time it's for my own good anyway."

"Yeah it is," you smile. "and I'm still upset."

He sniffles, blinking rapidly as a tear slips down his cheek. "I'll make it up to you, shoot me with the stupid dart or whatever you want. Lesson learned."

You laugh a bit at that, lean in to brush your nose against his. "I make a pretty good prinzessin, huh?"

Biting his lip, he smirks. "A fucking sexy one too. Not used to my pillow prinzessin walking all over me like that, but it looked good on you."

"It was tiring," you mumble, eyelashes fluttering. "I don't think I'd like to do it all the time."

"No?" He hums, "That's ok, you can just fill in for me whenever you feel like it."

"Ok," you agree, and then your pressing your lips to his for what feels like the first time in years. He's soft and warm, licking teasingly at your bottom lip and then dipping his tongue in when you part your mouth for him.

Nico always kisses you like honey, no fight is ever gonna change that.

[buckys-wintersoldier]

His Angel | Bucky Barnes

Co-Written with @imtryingbuck

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 -> Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Angel!Female!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> Experiment for Hydra but his Angel for Bucky.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (T) mention of violence and guns, panic attack, fluff

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 883

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 -> ignore if recs are closed :3 maybe angel!reader helping bucky thru a panic attack? like he thinks when he dies hes gonna suffer in hell for the stuff the winter soldier did and we calm him down and help him? u can add smut if u want but u dont have to !! @dethspllz

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for the request. Since @bucks-babe got the same request it’s linked here “My guardian, my angel, my love” which is such a wonderful oneshot and highly recommend!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

An Angel.

An Angel they called you, it wasn’t necessary for the wings that were attached to your back but because you had the ability to calm everything including the deadliest of storms just by your presence. You were the sweetest and most softest person they had ever met.

For three years you had been a member of the team after they had found you trapped in a high ceiling cell. You heard the gun fire and grew scared, extending your wings you flew up in hopes the vibranium chain would finally break apart and you would be able to grab ahold of the metal bars on the ceiling. For several years you had been trapped, used and abused by the members of Hydra they had put you in a cell with a hole in the ceiling, tormenting you with your freedom right there, just out of reach. The more you flapped your wings sheer desperation and fear the floor began being covered in white soft feathers.

By the time they found you, you was backed in the corner with your knees pulled up to your chest and your nearly bare wings around your shaking frame. They were shocked by the amount of feathers littering the floor. The way your voice shook when you begged them not to hurt you had their hearts aching.

From the moment they freed you from the chains you became apart of their family.

Natasha noticed you no longer hid your wings from anyone - had been to scared to show them to anyone that wasn’t your family - they were always out and you were now free from the pain in your back from keeping them in all the time.

Sam noticed how much your smile would take up your whole entire face when he asked you if you wanted to fly with him. Both of you taking off into the air, your eyes bright, your laughter filling the sky as you both flew around.

Steve noticed how your wings would get fluffier in the winter and in the summer there would be trail of feathers wherever you went.

Wanda noticed the way your wings would flutter whenever a certain brunette super soldier was around. She had asked you if you had feelings for Bucky, quickly dropping the subject when she saw the tears in your eyes and when your wings folded themselves inwards.

But it was Bucky that noticed the change in colour of your wings. “Doll…”

“Yes?”

“You’re… they… wow” you frowned at him, looking at them feeling completely confused about his reaction. It wasn’t the first time he had seen them so you had no idea why he was reacting the way he was.

“Wh-what’s wrong with them?”

“They’re turning gold…”

You turned around, and your mouth dropped open when you saw the slight gold glittering on your wings. It looked gorgeous, the way the feathers were glistening in the light of the sun. Bucky looked just as impressed as you did. He took a step closer, reaching out his hand to slide his fingers with a soft, smooth movement over the feathers of your wings.

“It looks pretty; I mean, you never looked pretty,” Bucky stuttered and smirked softly.

Your wings never changed color, but with every movement of Bucky’s fingers over the feathers and his other hand, which was touching your arm slightly, they changed even more into the gold glitter.

“T—Thank you. It never changed the colors before,” you said, turning to face Bucky.

He smirked at you, feeling goosebumps underneath his fingers. Bucky caressed your skin softly, admiring the gold in your wings.

“Doll, I—I love you,” he mumbled, looking into your eyes. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

You lifted your arms, wrapping them around his neck to pull him closer. Your lips were only inches away from yours, and you could feel his breath on them, smiling softly.

“I love you too, Bucky.”

He smiled, then his expression turned serious again, and his body started to tremble. Bucky let himself fall down on the bed behind him, his hands running through his soft brown hair when he looked at you. You were walking closer, kneeling in front of him, your arms resting on his thighs while your hands grasped his hands and you stroked his soft skin slightly.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re so beautiful, and you love me. B—But you shouldn’t. I don’t deserve your love,” he said, tears building in his eyes and falling down his cheeks.

“Buck, don’t say that. You deserve so much love. The winter soldier did things that weren’t the greatest, but you— you're Bucky, a wonderful man who is sometimes a bit confused,” you said, giggling softly.

Bucky’s heart warmed when you said that and when your sweet laugh echoed through the room. He breathed deeply, closing his eyes for a moment, when he suddenly felt your soft wings around him. With a soft grin on his lips, he opened his eyes, looking directly into yours, and leaned closer to kiss you gently.

There he was — home with you. Your closeness, your touches, and your skin always feel like home, and when you laugh or talk, he is sure there is nothing that could sound better than that. You’re his pretty doll.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel

[lunarw0rks]

hi!! just wanted to stop in and give an idea ig

141 with a reader who’s like a mother hen after a mission, making sure everyone’s not injured, and god forbid they are, she’s trying to stop the bleeding, and scolding soap for being so reckless!! even after they get back to base after a long day, she’s fussy.

IDK JUST A RANDOM BLURB??

A/N: Such a cute idea, not one I would've thought of on my own! Hope I did the request justice <3

Summary: It's in your nature, the motherly role you feel towards the other members of the Task Force. Patching up their injuries, and scolding the two most reckless ones, it's all become routine.

Warning(s): platonic!141, fem!reader, canon-typical violence, blood/minor injury mention, mild language, suggestive banter, no use of y/n

Word Count: 2.1k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ 141 MASTERLIST // have a request? ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ ao3 ver.

Troublemakers // Drabble

Though you hadn’t said a word on the ride back, at least outside of ones pertaining to the operation, the look on your face said enough. For every mission, no matter the time and place, something goes wrong—someone gets hurt.

“Anybody broken?” Captain Price comes through the comms, the static crackling through the jeep.

“Everybody’s fine, Captain. For now.” Your voice hissed back into the radio, eyes scanning their faces for any signs of an injury. Right now, there weren’t any signs. But the second this jeep stopped, there was no way in hell they were getting past you without you at least checking. It had become your unofficial job; the mother of the team, the medic without an official title, even the ‘buzzkill’ at some points.

There was no time to fuss over them at first, during evac. Everyone had piled into the vehicles too quickly, and you were eager to get out of there just as much. You were a natural nurturer, but not blinded by your instincts—there was a chain of command, after all. When your Captain says to evac, you evac, no questions.

Once the titles and formalities fizzled out, once the comms went quiet, that side of you always came out.

The jeep was moving at high speeds, and the passing landscape was a blur. A secluded, abandoned field where the operation went wrong; the taperings of town turning into the city; fizzled out until it turned into the secluded dry field again—when you reached the base.

In usual fashion, everyone got out first, and you last.

It was second nature, ushering them out like a clown car, then examining the inside of the empty vehicle to make sure nobody forgot anything. It was comical to them, so comical they still shot amused looks as you cased the car. Any further into this role, and you would start saying “C’mon kids” every time you went somewhere with them.

Another challenge to their chivalry was the way you held the door open for each of them, eyes glued to them as pursed your lips in discontent. But, they knew the drill just as well as you did.

First, you peered at Simon, though he just walked by with his usual scowl, probably finding a dark corner to brood in. He was the only one you didn’t bother to fuss over, unless you wanted to get chewed out, naturally.

It was the other two you were the most concerned about—Gaz and Soap, the troublemakers. If you could call them that in the field, you would have a thousand times already, and most likely more than that, knowing them.

Heavy sighs filled the room, sweaty brows wiped as they relieved their bodies of the extra pounds their gear gave them. Vests and buckles undone, muscles stretched as the adrenaline coursing through each of you steadied itself.

For once, you were also overjoyed to see the bland walls of this base, and them too, as much as they gave you grief. Each mission was like watching a toddler climb up to the top of a playset, waiting for the inevitable injury that comes once they fall—and every time, your hammering heart nearly came through your chest.

Yes, they were grown men, trained soldiers, but that instinct still prevailed. You couldn’t trust them with your life if they didn’t have theirs, could you? The world kept turning, and the clocks kept ticking, all as long as you played your maternal part in this arrangement.

You squinted at the two troublemakers, that gut instinct showing itself. “You sure nothing went wrong, you two? No blood?” It was a series of accusations, not naive questions. You knew something was up, there was that bubbling in your chest.

Gaz’s lip tightened into a line like he was trying not to reveal the truth. “No blood.” What a liar, and a bad one at that. Knowing these two, Soap was probably pinching his skin where you couldn’t see, trying to contort it until you were left with no suspicions.

There was no way you could force the truth out, so if they didn’t want your help, they weren’t getting it from you.

With a slow nod, you began to take off your own gear, gathering your pack and all the extras. Perhaps, for once, it would be a happy ending. You would settle into your dorm, lay back on your cot, and catch up on some paperwork, maybe even some light reading—

Well, that fantasy came about as quickly as it went.

Soap’s palm was hovering over his side, letting out a grunt of pain when he put his backpack over his shoulders. He had turned so abruptly, nearly scampering down to reach his own dorm. But he wasn’t quick enough, and your iron grip on his wrist—it was as unyielding as your grit.

“C’mon, I’m fine, Lass.” Soap grunts, like a child embarrassed when his mother dabs his face with a napkin. “It’s just a—”

“—a scratch?” You scoff, lightly smacking your free hand against his tender side. No matter how tough he was, how well he thought he was going to hide it, he had keeled over and held the spot you barely made contact with.

Gaz was attempting to contain his laughter, which was only met with the kick of one of Soap’s legs to his shin.

You couldn’t believe it, from causing trouble and bickering to working as a team and failing miserably.

The grip on Soap’s wrist loosened, instead now on the strap of his bag, gently sliding it off his tender shoulder. “Let me look at it, please.” You pleaded, trying to keep your tone both firm but concerned all at once. It seems it wasn’t just a scratch; once again you were right.

“I got nothin’ but admiration for you, why do you do this to me?” Soap whines, still not budging and letting you examine the wounds.

You ran your tongue over the inside of your cheek, cocking a brow at him. “Sit down, Johnny. Now.”

Your finger was pointing at one of the spare dining chairs in the kitchenette, and it wasn’t a request either. He knew that by now. Soap could try and swoon you, butter you up until you left it alone, but it wouldn’t work.

“Yes, ma’am.” His tone was defeated, but he still had a smirk on his face, like he was enjoying the attention.

Gaz snickered from behind you, and you could hear him begin his trek out of the room. “Better to just listen to the lady, or she won’t stop.”

Before you could even lay eyes on Soap’s injury, your head snapped in Gaz’s direction. He was on just as thin of ice, he was only lucky you could tolerate his jokes. “You’re part of this too, Gaz. I suggest you don’t wander too far.”

It was ironic; men who had worked so hard, trained to kill, and yet, they were downright gutless when in your sights, especially when caught in a lie.

All apart from Simon, who maintained the same distance with you as everyone else—that you could accept, it was just the way he was. But from these two clowns? Not for a second.

It wasn’t coming from thin air, either, this was a two-sided deal. The first time you were injured in the field, you attempted to diminish it, to write it off and suffer by yourself. It went about as well for you as it was for Soap right now—forced into a chair and stitched up with an icy glare, one that says “don’t ever do that again” without any actual words surfacing.

That’s how you knew this wasn’t in vain, even if your work didn’t always come with a response of gratitude.

You were strong where they were weak—and in return, they would quite literally kill for you, in and out of the field. God knows you’ve had to hold them back more than a few times; order comes out wrong at the restaurant, you get ghosted after a date, or someone insults your abilities as a soldier? It’s a mess.

Your eyes stayed on Soap’s pout through the reflection of the window above the sink, scrubbing away the grime on your hands before you got to work on him. In mere minutes, you’d retrieved the very used first aid kit, laying out any supplies you might need. Knowing him, it could be as small as a papercut, or a gushing wound under the fabric of his shirt.

He had already removed his, cheeks rosy and lips crinkled like you hadn’t seen this a thousand times. Not to mention, you were patching him up, not asking for a striptease. He was the one making things awkward, for the record.

Aside from the dirt, the scars, and small scrapes, it was an injury that needed to be looked at, regardless of how stubborn the patient was. A nasty bruise was forming on his peck area and below it a gash with some tiny glass shards still embedded in it. The shoulder had no visible injury, but based on how tender the skin was, he had sprained it again.

“Christ. How do you manage this? It was a simple sweep mission, MacTavish.” You shook your head in disapproval, putting on a pair of disposable gloves with a loud snap of the blue latex.

He takes the hits like a dog that knows he’s in trouble, only it's a look of acceptance rather than apprehension. It was coming from a place of care, not anger, and by God did Soap’s reckless behavior make your heart drop often.

Your rambles continued, almost as if you were talking to yourself. Your fingers worked carefully, using the tweezers to get any debris out of there.

“Can you do anything about this, Captain?” Soap’s words made your work slow, not stop.

“No, I cannot, Sergeant.” Even Price was aware of this dynamic, and frankly, he was thankful for it, one less person to worry about getting in trouble. You scolded it, didn’t partake in it—and that left less paternal instincts of his own to run dry.

Price’s boots retreated without another word, probably to work tirelessly in his office for the rest of the night. Now, it was clear to Soap that there really was no way out of this, no way to shimmy away from your caring nature.

Might as well take advantage of it the only way he knew how. “You look like you need a drink, Lass. Always so tense.”

You stared up at him through your lashes, wrapping the gauze a little tighter than you usually would. What were you supposed to say to that? He was right, you could use a drink, but he wasn’t going to get the satisfaction of being right—being right was your job.

Before you could utter a witty response, Simon spoke up for the first time since the mission. “She has a scalpel at the ready, Johnny. I would tread lightly if I were you.” For once, his cynical humor had landed on your side, and it nearly made you spit out a laugh, if you weren’t so focused.

If you were as childish as Soap, you might’ve said I told you so, but your stern look said enough. After you finished disinfecting the wounds, you bandaged them up, patting the cotton with your fingers to make it stick.

“All better now, just don’t do it again.” A satisfied beam appeared on your face, that worry in your gut dissipating when he was patched up. “Please?” Now, it was desperate and anxiety-filled.

He probably would do something like this again, but maybe next time he would at least think first, and you could live with that.

Soaps fingers find his shirt, slipping it over his head slowly with a pained groan. “I can’t promise that.” Then, they find the nearest bottle of whiskey, in true fashion for him. “But I’ll find you first next time, ask permission to get hurt.”

You scoffed and let out a sarcastic ha-ha, but stepped back enough to give him space, discarding the gloves into the waste basket. Once he had collected his things, keeping them in his uninjured arm this time, a cheek smirk appeared again.

He waited until you had turned your back to wash your hands again, and to be safe, a few feet further from you. “Thanks, Mom.” Soap turned on his heels and whipped around the corner, down the hall before you could show him your face of shock.

On second thought, maybe next time he wouldn’t have to ask to get hurt, and it would be your own two hands making him pay for that comment.

[cdragons]

Bound by Embroidered Chains - Aemond Targaryen x Seamstress!OC x Jacaerys Velaryon - Prologue

Next chapter

Summary: Dragons have a habit in hoarding the prettiest of jewels, and pearls are of no exceptions.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ Future NSFW, Obsessive Behavior (we all knew this was coming), Childbirth, Future Sexism & Misogyny (this is Westeros), Political Struggles, Future Deaths, Dark Themes, etc. etc. Also translations for Valyrian will be added at the bottom!

Author's Note: WHO ELSE SCREAMED AT THE HOTD SEASON 2 TEASER TRAILER????? The costumes, the cinematography, the set design, FUCKING BAELA ON MOONDANCER???? But this idea was something that had been on my mind for a while, and I am really excited to share it with all of you! Shoutout to @valeskafics whose works served as a HUGE inspiration to this idea! If you liked reading this work, reblog and comment if you want to be tagged in future installments of this work! Also I apologize for any grammatical errors, I wanted to post this as soon as possible.

“PUSH!” yelled the midwife to the soon-to-be mother. “Lady Doreah, I can almost see the head!”

“Almost?” the poor woman cried out; her body had grown weary after experiencing a day’s worth of labour. Her hair clung to the sweat on her brow as the rest of her skin was soaked in perspiration from the pain. She cried out in agony as a gentle kiss from above attempted to soothe her from the torment that came with bringing new life into the world. Normally she would preen at such affection, but considering the circumstances she was in, she was in no mood for soft affections. “Ao nādrēsy! You did this to me!”

“Yes, my love,” agreed the man beside her. Unlike most husbands, Hotho Pyke refused to not remain by his beloved wife’s side during the birth of their child. He wanted to welcome the product of their love into the world with open arms. He was desperate to hold this new tiny babe in his arms as his fingers would trace over the features given to them by both their mother and father.

“You speak true my darling; I am a bastard. But if memory serves me right, it was my bastard birth that finally made you look my way after months of me begging for your attention. Well, that and a bit of my bastard tongue.” He tried to hide the wince that almost spilled from his lips at the furious grip on his hands in response of his wife. Even at the worst times, the man would never stop in his attempts to make her laugh. It was a most excellent quality in a husband in any other time but now.

“Gods help me Hotho – if this child does not come out of me soon, I will take my shears and cut out that bastard tongue of yours myself!” Doreah let out another scream as she continued to push her child out – although the pain was intense, the longing to hear the newest member of their family was greater than anything else she had felt in her lifetime.

“The baby is crowning!” exclaimed the midwife, who stood forgotten by the couple. “You are so close my lady, a few more pushes and you and your husband can welcome the newborn!”

This news filled Doreah with a newfound determination. Using every bit of her strength, she grasped her Hotho for support as she let out a furious yell as her body clenched to push out the newborn.

And after what seemed to both a lifetime and no time at all, powerful and shrill cries filled out every corner of the room. Not bothering to lean back against the pillows to rest, Doreah reached forward and demanded to hold her baby. She didn’t even care if you were a son or a daughter- you could have been a goat for all she cared. All she wanted to was to hold whomever had been growing inside her for the past nine months. She wanted to breathe in the scent of their skin and kiss their tiny faces. She wanted to love her child- her new world and her greatest love. Son, daughter, goat- Doreah knew that this child would forever be perfect in her eyes.

And perfect this child was indeed, and perfection suited their daughter.

Ten toes and ten fingers covered in blood, and kicking as hard an airborne goat, Doreah and Hotho wept as loudy as their newborn girl. It was only when the midwife insisted that she have the baby cleaned and wrapped in blankets were the two able to part with her. When you were returned to your mother’s arms, all felt right with the world as they continued to weep at the sight of the newest member of their small and strange family.

“Ziry's kesīr, īlva tala,” whispered Doreah with tears rolling down her cheeks. She looked up to gaze at her husband. “Gaomagon ao ūndegon zirȳla, ñuha jorrāelagon? Jurnegon rȳ zirȳla! Iksis ziry daor se olvie precious riña emā mirre ūndegīon!”

“I see her my coral,” whispered out her husband, whose face was soaked in tears in response to the overwhelming joy flowing within him. “Our pearl is beautiful. But most importantly, she is healthy and she is loved.”

He traced a finger across his daughter’s delicate features. Although you were currently sleeping, he knew that your eyes would take after hers, and he was ecstatic. There was a time when he believed that he would never love anything or anyone more than he loved the sea, only now there were two women in his life whom his love was consumed by entirely.

As the world slipped away into the background, the love from the new parents was so great it formed an almost impenetrable barrier surrounding them. But all peaceful things reach an end and theirs came from the knocking of a serving girl.

“My Lord and Lady…Pyke,” came a new voice, clearly disgusted by the act of referring a bastard as a lord, “if the Lady is presentable, the Queen Alicent would like to come in to see the child.”

“Oh yes!” exclaimed Doreah. “Please let her in! I would be most honored to have Alicent meet my sweet pearl!”

“My brightest coral, are you sure? You just went through birth. Queen or not, shouldn’t you recover before she asks your attention?”

Hotho Pyke was an impoverished bastard born from the Iron Islands. He knew how to predict wind patterns and navigate with the stars before he could write. His skills as a seafarer were so great that he caught the attention of Lord Corlys of House Velaryon who sat on the Driftwood Throne. But however impressive his skills were with a sail, there was still much to be desired with his knowledge of etiquette appropriate for the Royal Court of the Red Keep in the Crownlands. His raised brow and confused tone suggested that he believed his question to be one borne of common sense despite the horrified expressions on everyone else’s faces save for his wife.

“Hotho, ñuha jorrāelagon,” Doreah tiredly chuckled as she shook her head, “there is still so much for you to learn about the Red Keep. Please Jeyne, let the Queen enter. I want her to meet our pearl!”

Almost immediately, a heavily pregnant figure in resplendent green and gold came dashing into the room in hopes to be the first to reach the bedridden woman and greet the child.

“Doreah!” exclaimed out the queen, relieved that her dearest friend had survived the trials of birth with the result of a healthy child. “Let me see you! How are you? Are you sure you are well? Do you need anything for the pain?”

Doreah couldn’t help but laugh at the onslaught of questioning from her fretful childhood friend. Since they were still just young girls, Alicent Targaryen nee Hightower always worried about the seamstress’ health and wellbeing despite being a few years younger. She fondly looked back on the days when she and her would peacefully discuss about their days as they worked on their embroidery or took lessons from the Head Septa. Handing their daughter to her husband to hold, she reached out to her friend in attempt to soothe her worries.

“Alicent, I am fine. Truly, there is no need to fret so much.” Doreah reassured her friend before looking back to the love of her life. “Besides, I was never in any danger. Not with my brave Iron Knight by my side the entire time.”

Still holding their radiant babe, Hotho Pyke beamed at his wife’s tender words before laying kisses on her hands, her fingers, the top of her hairline, before eventually stopping at her lips.

Alicent, however, was less than pleased at the shameless display of affection shared between the couple.

“Ser Pyke,” – she refused to refer a bastard of all things as a lord – “surely you know that men are not permitted in the birthing room during the delivery. I thought that this was made clear to you when you first learned of your wife’s pregnancy.”

Not recognizing the insult in being referred as “Ser” as opposed to “Lord,” Hotho only took the queen’s words as a sign of worry for her favored companion.

“My mother would rise from her watery grave to string me by my feet and call me a cunt if she knew that I left my wife alone in bringing our child into the world. Besides, had I not been in the room, she would have let her vicious tongue loose on another unfortunate soul.”

“In any case, are you sure you should not be resting? You are carrying the King’s child, surely that takes priority over seeing me.” Doreah knew that this pregnancy had been particularly difficult for Alicent, recalling the many times she walked in on her kneeling before her chamber pots in emptying out the contents of her stomach.

“Nonsense,” replied Alicent, who shook her head at the statement, “there is no one more important to me at this moment than you, sweet Doreah. I just hope that your husband’s brash tongue does not influence such a young innocent.”

“Ah, no worries my Queen. The brashness of my tongue is no match for that of my wife. She proved that many a time in our quarters.”

The Iron Island-born bastard was promptly cut off by a swift slap on the arm from his wife.

Before Alicent could respond to such vulgarity, she was interrupted by the presence of another figure dressed in a gorgeous red and black dress patterned with masterful gold embroidery.

“Rhaenyra!” Doreah exclaimed in excitement, happy to have not one but two of her closest friends greet her daughter. “You did not have to come! Are you sure you are not currently preoccupied with your duties?”

“Oh, please,” the princess uttered, “what could possibly be more important at this moment than to greet the firstborn of Laenor and I’s closest friends?”

Walking over to Hotho’s side, Rhaenyra was entranced by the sight of the newly arrived babe. She could already see how you would grow to be the spitting image of your mother.

“May I hold her?” she asked with arms already reaching toward your father.

Looking back to his wife to make sure she approved of it, he carefully handed you to Rhaenyra – but not before he laid a dozen kisses on your face.

“Oh Doreah,” Rhaenyra softly cooed, “she is absolutely perfect. I can tell that she will grow up to be as kind and beautiful as her mother.”

“Oh, Rhaenyra,” tears filled your mother’s eyes at her friend’s kind words, “kirimvose.” She turned to Alicent, who was currently sitting beside the bed in a chair brought to her to ease the stress on her body from her third pregnancy. Your mother reached one arm to each of her friends as a way to show solidarity. “Thank you to the both of you. I would not be where I am now – so happy and full of love – without the both of you here to guide me through the Red Keep. I owe you two everything. I only hope that our children can remain as friends so that they will never know loneliness.”

If your mother knew of the cruel fate she thrust onto you with that wish, she would have given everything to the gods in hopes to free you.

Your father took you back into his arms before handing you once more to your mother. Although you had woken from your slumber, you made no noise. You only gazed at the figures surrounding you with wide and eager eyes. Ever so slightly, you reached out your hand to paw at the green fabric of the queen.

So young, and you already seemed to recognize the beauty in the custom-made garment.

Alicent laughed in a way that was so genuine that it seemed unfamiliar, fascinated by the fervent grabbing of her dress on your end.

“It seems that this little one will be a seamstress as well,” she stated as she reached forward to let you pull and tug at her sleeve in enraptured delight, “I can only imagine what talent she will possess.”

“What will you name her?” Rhaenyra asked, hoping that you will be blessed with a name with Valyrian roots.

But a shared glance between your parents showed that they had already decided a name for you far before this day.

“Ashirri, Ashirri Pyke” your mother confidently stated, “in honor of both our cultures.”

Your father grasped his wife’s shoulder in agreement. “We will never let our child feel she must restrict herself to one background. As her parents, we want to let her know that her world will be one of endless possibilities.”

On this day, Doreah Pyke gave birth to a child for her and her husband to raise. This child will be raised with so much love that it will not matter that you were born from two bastard parents, one from Essos and the other from the Iron Islands. No, you were born as a result of the love from two people from opposite sides of the world who miraculously found one another, and that was all that would matter in the end. Doreah would teach you an art that could only be made through masterfully crafted embroidery and needlework, while Hotho will teach you how to use the stars to navigate waters and open their horizons to an endless sea of possibilities.

And if you did not wish to become either a seamstress or a sailor, it made no difference to them. Westeros, Essos, the Red Keep, the Iron Islands – the world was your oyster, and you were the miraculous pearl.

Their child will not be like the close-minded fools of their homelands, but someone whose mind will be open to new opportunities and will never stop seeing the joy in discovering the unknown. And they would always be there to help guide you in any way the could. Nothing would ever come between the love your parents held for you.

If only the gods could allow for such happiness to last forever.

But dragons have a tendency to burn rather than create, especially ones with sapphire for eyes and strong blood in their veins.

Translations:

"Ao nādrēsy!" - You Bastard!

"Ziry's kesīr, īlva tala... Gaomagon ao ūndegon zirȳla, ñuha jorrāelagon? Jurnegon rȳ zirȳla! Iksis ziry daor se olvie precious riña emā mirre ūndegīon!" - She's here, our daughter. Do you see her, my love? Look at her! Is she not the most precious child you have ever seen?

"ñuha jorrāelagon" - my love

kirimvose - Thank you

Tagging: @valeskafics, @dreaming-for-an-escape, @asa-do-your-thing, @arcielee, @aphroditesmoon, @nighttwingg, @marvelescvpe, @nellychick, @its-actually-minicika, @biancaweasley

[yanderelinkeduniverse]

Yandere Sky Headcanons

Sky is, without a doubt, a hopeless romantic when he’s in love. We’ve seen him swoon and sigh dreamily when thinking about his loved one, he’s THAT kind of lover boy. Naturally, when adding a layer of insanity tinged love sickness to that adoration, he’s prone to becoming very affectionate.

Unless you are as dense as a rock, it will be no secret that the Hero of the Skies is head over heels in love with you. He basically has heart shaped pupils whenever he looks at you, cartoon heart bubbles magically appear around his head when in your vicinity and his face turns so red you’d think he had a high fever.

Sky is a devout yandere, obsessive in every way, shape and form, and protective to a fault. Even when not around you, you occupy his thoughts and daydreams to the point where it seems like he’s never not thinking about you.

He’s got a masters degree in yearning from Pining University.

And while he hasn’t lost that many people like some of the other mentally unstable chosen ones in the Chain(namely Wild and Legend), the fear of losing them is very real to him. He’s known the blood chilling terror of being a few steps too slow and a few minutes too late with the only thought in his head being “what did I do wrong?”

Following the conclusion of his first and only journey, Sky has come to accept that he made his mistakes and that he must move on in order to grow, but that doesn’t stop him from taking those lessons to heart when falling in love with you.

We’ve seen multiple times throughout the various installments that one of Sky’s favorite hobbies is playing his lyre. It’s a simple pleasure he indulges in whenever they have a moment of peace and the sound never fails to remind him of his home. But he’s found another reason to love it and that is the attention you end up giving him whenever he plays a song.

He isn’t the best musician in the group, but there’s no denying that the simple melodies he strings together are pleasing to the ears, so it’s no wonder you’d take the time to sit down, listen, and compliment him.

Sky doesn’t see it like that, though.

In his deluded, love hazy mind, all that registers is that you’re there giving him your attention and your praise; two things worth more than gold in his eyes. He’s like a drug addict who just got hit with another dosage. If he had a tail he’d be wagging it so hard it would thump against the log he’s sitting on, so he better consider himself lucky that Twilight is the dog of the group.

Though, if would please you, he’d willingly let you collar and leash him. Tell him to sit and roll over, he’ll do it on command without any shame whatsoever. He’ll even walk around on all fours if you want!-

Anyways-

THIS! 👏 MF! 👏 STEALS! 👏 FROM! 👏 YOU! 👏

I mean, technically it isn’t for long, he won’t permanently take something that belongs to you without ever giving it back(in secret so you never find out it was him), but he WILL swipe something of yours from time to time. Most commonly he’ll take a tunic or shirt from you, something you won’t immediately notice is gone.

When he has a moment of privacy, he’ll take out his little treasure and press it against his face, taking in a deeeeeep breath, and sighing lovingly. He’s got it bad for you and he knows it. If he could he’d use your tunic as a pillowcase whenever he went to sleep, but there’s no way he wouldn’t get caught.

Despite all this sugary sweetness, Sky isn’t solely a soft and gentle boy. If he is provoked, or if you’re being bothered, Sky doesn’t hesitate to step up and glare down the nuisance, all the while keeping a calm smile stretched across his face. This is where his surprisingly deep voice comes in handy, people aren’t expecting a voice like his to come from such a soft face.

Out of all the members of the Chain, I actually think that Sky would be one of the most patient when it comes to people trying to mess with them or you respectively; he’s dealt with Groose’s bullying for a few years, I think he’s a natural at letting nasty comment slide right off him like water off a duck’s back.

However, even then his patience is dangerously thin regarding people. If provoked he won’t hesitate to begin plotting the fool’s demise, whether it be a swift cut to the jugular or a slow, agonizing demise is up to the person in question.

And finally, just a hint, do not try to run from him, it won’t work.

If Fi’s ability to dowse objects and seek them out is based on Sky’s own desire to find them, then if you were to try and run away, he’d be able to track you right down to the exact spot you’re standing in. Because there is nothing and no one alive that Sky wants and needs more than you.

Hide in the woods, in a cave, in a dungeon, in a mountain, it doesn’t matter. He will hunt you down, find you, and drag you back home in his loving, suffocating embrace.

[honeyscara]

•°✦Dress✦°•

↬ɴᴀᴋᴀʜᴀʀᴀ ᴄʜᴜᴜʏᴀ // bungo stray dogs

↬𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒔

"Please come with me" you pleaded

You were asking your boyfriend to accompany you to shop for a dress. The port mafia was organizing a function and you urgently needed a dress for the function by tomorrow. Your friend was unavailable so you had no other choice than to ask your boyfriend, chuuya to accompany you. He didn’t seem too thrilled about it but agreed nonetheless and the two of you left your apartment.

.

.

.

"chuuya, do you like this or this?" you asked while showing him two dresses.

One dress was a wine-coloured, sleeveless dress and the other was a short blue bodycon dress. Chuuya looked up at you from his phone. He thought for a moment before responding, "the wine coloured one"

"okay I'll go try it on"

You walked towards the dressing rooms and pulled Chuuya with you even though he was protesting. The shop was pretty much empty since it was morning. There was no one near the changing rooms so you told Chuuya to wait in front of one of the rooms.

After you put the dress on you turned around to look at yourself in the mirror. The dress looked really good against your skin tone and the wine-coloured dress hugged your curves perfectly. You were still nervous because it's been a while since you last wore a dress like this. It was a little revealing for you.

So you decided to ask Chuuya what he thought about this dress. You peeked outside the room, looking for Chuuya. He seemed busy on a call. Probably one of the mafia members called him.

"chuuya please can you see if this dress is okay?" You called out to him.

He mouthed 'one minute' as he was on a call but you pulled him inside the changing room anyway.

"I told you-" he was about to tell you off but paused when he saw you in the dress. His eyes widened and you could almost swear that there was a hint of blush forming on his face. He was mesmerized.

.

.

.

"chuuya sir are you there?" the voice on the other end asked.

"y-yes uh I'll call you back" he said before quickly hanging up the call.

"Is this fine? do I look bad?" you asked him as he wasn't saying anything. He was just staring at you.

Chuuya was speechless. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, seemingly lost for words. He took a step towards you and grabbed both of your shoulders tightly.

"you look so fucking beautiful" he finally said and you knew that he meant every single word.

You couldn‘t help but smile widely.

Chuuya stared into your eyes for longer than usual before finally letting go of you.

"Isn't it too revealing?" you ask nervously

"not at all..you look so pretty darling," he said softly and placed a kiss on your forehead.

.

.

.

"chuuya I'm ready let's go" you said stepping into the living room.

Chuuya was drinking some wine while waiting for you. He placed the wine on the counter and walked over towards you.

"you look so stunning" he commented while spinning you around, making you blush.

"aww thanks chuuya, you look handsome too," you told him while admiring your boyfriend's outfit.

He was wearing a white button-down shirt, black blazer, his choker and of course his pretty hat with chain. It suited his sharp personality, his whole outfit made him look very confident and sophisticated. He looked absolutely handsome.

.

.

.

After you reached the venue, you and Chuuya went to your respective group of friends for some time. Chuuya was talking to Lippmann (let's just imagine that the flags are alive) and you were talking to Gin. A few minutes into the party you heard a huge crash coming from behind you. It sounded like someone was flung across the room.

You turned around to see some new mafia member on the floor and Chuuya was standing in front of him. Chuuya held his collar and picked him up. He struggled to free himself and was trying to kick Chuuya away.

"Not again.." you sighed and ran forward and tried to calm Chuuya down.

"stop," you told him but he shook off your grip and hit the guy again.

"Chuuya I said stop!" you yelled at him and he threw the guy back down on the group.

Now everyone's attention was on the three of you. Some people whispered things to each other while others were staring intently. You could feel the tension rising.

You pulled Chuuya outside before he could say anything else. You gave Gin and his other friends an apologetic look. Gin just gave you a small nod and the others simply smiled at you reassuringly.

.

.

You walked outside with Chuuya in silence. The night air felt nice on your warm skin. You breathed deeply to clear your mind before turning to Chuuya. You were a little upset at him.

"Chuuya what the hell was that? You have to learn how to control your temper" You raised your voice a little

"Please shut up," he said frustratedly and kicked a stone on the sidewalk.

His anger wasn't directed at you, but at himself for getting so worked up again.

"chuuya-" he began but he cut you off

"Just shut up" he yelled at you angrily.

This was probably the first time that you’ve heard him shout at you like this. Although he was short-tempered, it was rare that he ever got angry at you. However, he soon regretted yelling at you when he saw your face. He realised he messed up. He wanted to apologize but didn't know what exactly to say. You're mad and rightfully so. You weren't wrong in calling him out like that.

"I'm going home," you said coldly after a long silence.

.

.

.

You were going to leave with gin but Chuuya didn't let you. He felt guilty for yelling at you but didn't know what to say. You weren't talking to him at least not for now. The ride back home was extremely silent with you being more silent than usual. After reaching home you walked to the kitchen counter to get a glass of water. Chuuya followed you inside, locking the main door.

Suddenly you felt two pairs of hands around your waist. It was Chuuya's. He turned you around to face him and pushed you against the counter, his body pressing against yours. You were frozen in place. Your heart was beating so fast. He leaned close to your ear to whisper "Sorry"

Your lips parted slightly and your breath hitched in your throat as Chuuya kissed your neck gently. Your head was spinning and your knees felt weak.

"Sorry," he kept repeating again and again while leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck.

You felt his tongue grazing over your sensitive skin. Your breathing became ragged and you gripped onto his shirt tightly.

"chuuya.." you managed to get out.

He stopped kissing you and moved closer, brushing his nose against yours. His breath mingled with yours and you inhaled sharply in response. You were about to speak again but he silenced you. He pressed his lips firmly against yours and pulled you against him. Your heart started beating faster again, this time it wasn't because of his soft kisses.

His hands went down to your dress as he started pushing it upwards slowly. You could feel his hands sliding underneath the dress and running along your thighs. His hands clenched around your flesh a little tighter. You whimpered quietly at the sudden feeling of his hands on your exposed skin, it sent a shiver through your whole body.

"c-chuuya I'm s-still m-mad at you" you said in between the kisses

"I'm sorry" he pulled away and you stared into his eyes. You could see the regret in his eyes.

"I don’t want you to be upset with me...I promise I will try to control my temper... please...darling I love you so much.." he begged you to forgive him.

"fine.." you smiled and kissed him on the lips.

He lifted you and placed you on the counter. The items on the counter fell onto the ground but you didn't care, you just wanted to feel his warmth on your skin right now. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he pushed your dress up even further.

"you look so pretty princess... but I bet you'll look even prettier with it off" he smirked playfully as he looked at you.

"no, I don't" You felt a blush creep up your cheeks and you buried your head in the crook of his neck. You could feel his chuckle reverberate through his chest.

"hmm..then let me prove it to you," he said and held your chin, making you look at him.

His lips met yours passionately once again. He slowly pulled the straps of your dress down while kissing you. You shivered a bit when the cool air hit your bare skin as you weren't wearing a bra. This type of dress didn't require one. He began trailing kisses down your neck to your chest while saying how much he loved everything about you. You felt so comfortable with him that you forgot everything that happened earlier.

His touch sent waves of pleasure throughout your entire body and you felt yourself melt under him. Your arms had found their way under his shirt, grazing across his abs making him suck in a sharp breath. His hands were resting on your hips as he continued trailing kisses down your chest.

"so pretty" he whispered in your ears while you blushed.

He laid you gently on the counter and kissed you again. Chuuya was lying on top of you and continued to press soft kisses all over your body. His touch was gentle, he seemed to know exactly where to kiss and what to do. Your heart beat rapidly when he kissed your lower abdomen. He continued making his way down your stomach and slowly slid the dress off, letting it drop down to the floor.

He traced his fingers over your thigh lightly. His touches were so soft and loving that your body was shaking from pleasure. Chuuya's hand slowly inched its way up and he started kissing the inside of your thighs. Your whole body was trembling from ecstasy.

"c-chuuya i-i..." you moaned, unable to form any words.

"Shhh..just relax princess" he whispered against your skin.

You closed your eyes as he took the last of the garment. His kisses had grown gentler now and his fingertips grazed your sensitive spot. You couldn't keep your hands still anymore, you were gripping onto the kitchen counter for dear life.

[venuscrashed]

Hello, hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request a criminal mind BAU Team x Male Reader where on a case the reader gets captured and tortured and even though everyones supper worried, Spencer is the only one to know that reader had an addiction very similar to his and was there for Spencer every step of the way through his struggle and Spencer doesn't want his best friend and father figure going back into addiction.

If this is to dark and makes you uncomfortable it's perfectly fine not to write it

Sorry this took so long. PSATs suck

Also I headcannon older!Male reader while call Spencer Speed since his brain is fast.

“Garcia tell me you have something,” Hotch stormed into the room with Morgan and Reid behind him. The rest of the team sat around the table while other cops were in the room. Garcia’s face was on the screen with a sad, depressing smile. Hotch sighed and lowered his head, he looked to JJ and stared for a bit. “JJ.”

JJ straighter up as she her eyebrows raised. “Yes?”

“Contact the press and saw we have missing persons report. Don’t say it’s and FBI agent and tell them the Unsub took a hostage.”

“Wouldn’t they know that it’s fake considering the unsub is only a serial arsonist?” She looked back and forth between each member and could only sign. She stood up and walked out the room only to look at Reid as she passed by him.

“Reid?” Morgan looked at him with worry, “Are you ok?”

Reid looked to him with slight tears in his eyes. His hand started fidgeting with his lip trembling. “I’m fine. Now let’s go find (Y/N).”

The whole team walked out to see a news castor on the lobby tv speaking about you. They disclosed certain information as your face was displayed on the news. It hurt Reid to see the false happiness behind that smile you wore for the FBI photos. It pained him to not be able to tell anyone about your problems but he made a promise.

Emily came running out of the room as she got her gun. “Garcia found his location. It’s in some laundry mat that’s a front for a drug business.”

“Drug business?” Reid looked at her with desperation in his eyes. He followed after her, practically running just to confirm his fear.

“Is there a problem with that Reid? You can stay if you’re worried for yourself.” Emily said while getting into the drivers seat. She looked back at him in the mirror suspiciously as he got in.

“I’m fine. It’s not me that I’m worried about.” He looked out down the street while they were driving. He felt so stupid for letting them take you. He felt responsible, he was right there! The memory of you be taken plays over and over again as fear settles.

For a couple moments there was only the siren of the car. Soon, a whole wall of police cars was seen in front of a run down building. It was rusting and had garbage all over it. Fainted graffiti can be seen that said “monsters house” on it.

“Agent Hotchner!” A cop yelled, pulling the whole fbi team towards him. “He’s asking for you. Saying something about the smart one and trade. No sign of your guy though.”

“Thank you. Take your team and Agent Morgan around the back and prepare for entry.” Hotch look towards Reid before picking up the microphone. “I hope you know what you’re doing Reid.”

Reid nodded and took off. He loved around the house and found the basement door on the outside. He carefully opened it. Gun out, he descended the steps.

Once he got to the bottom he looked around in the darkness. He started to move down the hall towards the one door with light behind it.

His breath hitched as he sees you laying on the ground. Blood and empty pill bottles surrounded your body. Your hands were chained to the wall as the blood dripped down onto your head.

Reid ran to your side. He picked up your head and frantically examined it. His heart beat grew louder with every cut that was looked over. Your eyes were bloodshot, clearly drugged. Patch’s of skin were torn off as bone was exposed. The nose cartilage was twisted leaving you to breathe through your mouth. Blood pouring from your chopped tongue.

Reid panicked as he tried to lift you up. “He’s in the basement. Call ambulance.”

“You’re not calling anyone.” The unsub walked through the door, locking it behind him. The lead pipe shined under the light. The thing that scared Reid the most was the new drug bottle in his hands.

Reid stood up as fast as he could and pulled his gun out. “You don’t want to do this.”

“You think the FBI scares me. You think they’ll catch me?” The unsub chuckled lowly. “He couldn’t catch me before.”

Reid’s breath hitched. His mind finally connected the dots. This was the same man that drive you towards your addiction in the first place. The first case you couldn’t solve when you started out at the BAU.

You started twitching while moaning out incoherent words. Reid moved closer.

“Move boy.” The unsub started to walk closer. Lead pipe in hand, ready to swing. “I’m gonna kill him once and for all. And ain’t no one going to stop me this time.”

“You don’t want to do this.” Reid frantically put his finger on the trigger. “You don’t want revenge. You’re only mad that you didn’t get the fame you wanted. That’s why you killed all those people. That’s why you left survivors. Killing an FBI agent will get you your fifth teen seconded of fame. Then what?”

The man froze in his tracks. He clicked his tongue. His gripped tighten on the lead pipe out of anger. “What are you talking about boy? Everybody in the god damn state fears me. If you’ll him the whole country will know me.”

“Then they’ll forget you. I mean can you name any famous killers that killed an FBI agent. They weren’t talking about you then why would the now?”

Watch your mouth boy!” The man raised his arm to attack but got cut off with the sound of your voice.

You laughed lowly as you looked up at him. Your face was drenched with your blood. Your white teeth was shingling under all the blood the flowed down. “Face it Leo. You’re irrelevant.”

You bursted out laughing. The man was angered with all his strength going to his hands. Reid was terrified but started counting down the seconds Hotch was going to come.

“I’ll kill you! Once and for all.” The man fall down onto the ground face first. His blood pouring out onto the floor while Hotch stood behind him.

The gunshot still rang through the room as EMTs ran in for you. The rest of the team ran in. You were taking outside into the ambulance and Reid followed behind.

The sirens were blaring while you guys rushed down the street. Reid could only watch as the medics tried their best to keep you safe.

Your eyes fell into Reid’s worried face. A small smirk formed as you laughed again in your face face. “You didn’t have to worry Speed. He couldn’t kill me when I was sober and he couldn’t kill me then. That man was pathetic.”

Reid smile as say back and relaxed. “You’re strong I guess.” You two laughed the whole ride back. That was when Reid vowed to stay sober with you.

[honeylations]

SHIN RYUJIN x FEM!READER

Prompt: You wanted to spend your day off playing your new Pokémon video game but seeing your hot ass girlfriend walk around the dorm in nothing but a bra and sweatpants, your plans changed.

Warnings/Notes g!p Ryujin, dick riding, mentions of Yeji

A/N: for those anons that requested Ryujinnie :p

———

Happily placing your new Pokémon game and your switch on your bed, you quickly made a run downstairs to the kitchen and started searching through the pantry, snatching every bag of chips you could find.

Doing the same to fridge shortly after for any soda or juice boxes.

“Are you aware you have 5 other members living under the same roof as you?” Yeji asked.

You almost got whiplashed from how fast your turned your head to the dining table where Yeji, Lia, Chaeryeong, and Yuna were eating the Kimchi Jigae your girlfriend had kindly cooked.

Actually, it was just so Yuna could stop whining about hungry she was. Speaking of your girlfriend, you noticed she wasn’t around.

“Where’s Ryu?”

“Taking a shower. Now are you gonna explain what the hell you are doing?” Lia crossed her arms and eyed the Doritos and Turtle Chips locked in your arms after shoving cans of Mountain Dew into your pants and hoodie pockets.

“Since it’s our day off, I’m gonna spend the entirety of it playing the new Pokémon game Yuna gifted me” You smiled at Yuna who received a pinch by the leader.

“I told you not to buy her that game”

“But I love Y/n Unnie so much!” The youngest pouted.

You blew her a kiss. “Love you Yuna. It doesn’t hurt learning a thing or two from her, Yeji Unnie” You joked.

Yeji raised her fist and muttered under her breath.

“How’s the food guys? Hope I didn’t make it too spicy for you, Chaer” Your lovely girlfriend appeared in a grey Calvin Klein bra and grey sweatpants.

Her hair was blow dried and on her neck was the silver chain you bought her on your 2nd year anniversary. After playfully ruffling Yuna’s hair, she made her way to you and paused to look at your little crime.

“Hi baby” You smiled.

“At least save some for us, my love” She pouted and hugged you regardless of your full hands.

“Sorry, need it to survive”

“We do too you selfish brat!” Chaeryeong yelled.

Ryujin stepped back to reach into the cupboards and grabbed herself a bowl. “Alright, time to eat”

“Thanks for the kimchi jigae, Ryuddaengs!” Yeji said.

“You’re very welcome. Babe you wanna eat with me?”

Little did she know, you had placed all the snacks and drinks you took on the kitchen counter, busy eyeing your shirtless girlfriend and her flexing muscles. Your eyes travelled to her veiny muscular hands that reminded you of the nights she loved wrapping it around your throat when you two fucked-

“Baby?” Ryu called out to you again.

Her voice sent a tingle to your core being enough of a reason for you to make her abandon her bowl and drag her upstairs.

“Grab your earphones, girls” Yeji sighed while pinching her nose bridge.

Locking you and Ryujin in your bedroom, you pushed her to her knees and rushed to push your sleeping shorts down.

“U-Uh”

“Shut up and put your mouth to good use” You hissed after discarding your shorts, showing the damp spot on your white panties. “Look what you did”

“All for me, darling?” Ryujin smirked, running her hands around your thighs before gently parting them.

“You know what you were doing, walking around looking so fucking hot. Now finish what you started”

“Of course, Princess”

The kneeling girl started licking you over the panties, making it more wet than it already was. She then managed to get you to remove it before sucking on your clit. Your hand grabbed onto her hair while the other held her shoulder to keep your balance.

“Mmm yes Ryu” You softly moaned, arching your back when you felt her tongue slide inside.

“Always tasting so good” Ryu panted before diving back in, making you grind into her mouth and not caring that your juices were drowning her.

She used two fingers to rub at your clit while she continued pushing her tongue deeper inside. “F-Fuck oh my god!”

Her deep moans started to make you shake, already having the need to cum all over her pretty face. “N-No can’t c-cum yet. Wanna do it on your cock” You cried.

Ryujin heard it clearly so she pulled away and stood up, wrapping her right hand around your throat to pull you in for a hot sloppy kiss, allowing you to taste yourself.

“I like seeing you try to dominate” She smirked into the kiss.

You scoffed and pushed her to sit on the edge of the bed. “I better see that cock out once I finished undressing” You ordered to which Ryujin shrugged and obeyed.

You stripped out your (her) hoodie, showing that you had no shirt nor bra underneath. And just like you asked, Ryujin was bare from the waist down, dick rock hard and she’s leaning back on her hands, smiling at you.

You sat on her lap, instantly holding onto her strong shoulders and connected your lips again. She massaged your waist before helping you sit on her standing cock, releasing a breathy moan into her mouth.

“Mmm, always so tight for me right baby?” She whispered.

You nodded while throwing your head back, letting your girlfriend’s lips attack your breasts, ensuring she marked you enough.

“F-Fuck, so big so big so big” You cried into her neck while moving your hips up and down.

“Very disrespectful of you to not let me eat with the other girls” Ryujin suddenly commented, forcing your hips to go faster and her nails dug into your waist.

“I-I’m sorry”

“I bet you’re being loud to get a rise out of Yeji Unnie, right? Wanting her to break through that door to punish you for being loud by stuffing her cock in your mouth? You’d like that wouldn’t you princess?”

The thought got you crying harder as you bounced roughly on your girlfriend’s cock. She brought her lips to your ear and chuckled.

“I don’t mind sharing you with her for one night. I know you’re a slut for cock”

“Y-Your cock is my favourite, Ryu” You sobbed, kissing her lips for reassurance.

“Hm I know. And I’m gonna make sure it’s the only cock you beg for” She growled and started thrusting her hips up, fucking you harder.

“Ryujinnie!” You screamed, clawing at her shoulders and drool escaped the side of your lips.

“Fucking pathetic. Trying to control me when you fall apart just like this. Be thankful I’m feeling nice today” Your girlfriend groaned.

“Thank you baby! Thank you thank you” you rambled, reaching one hand down to rub at your clit, seeing the way your stomach bulged at each deep thrust.

“Gonna cum with me baby?” She panted.

Lost in so much pleasure, you could only nod and allow Ryujin to fuck you like a doll, shoving her tongue down your throat while her hips drilled into your desperate cunt.

“Cumming…Ryu I’m cumming!” You voiced out and your legs started shaking.

“Fuck” You heard her growl into your jaw, finishing with long lazy thrusts as she emptied her cum inside, feeling it escape your abused lips.

“Are y’all done?” Yeji’s voice suddenly spoke on the other side of the door.

Ryujin, despite her tired state, smirked and eyed your breathless figure in her lap. “Yeah, I guess. Why you wanna join?”

“I’m not opposed to it but not today. Are you still gonna eat?”

“Oh right. Baby, I’m gonna eat now” She poked you but your little snores gave it away.

She kissed your head and rubbed your head. “Be there soon, Unnie just give me 10 minutes”

A/N : sorry it’s so short, I’m running out of ideas T^T

[tenderleavesbob]

In Time's memory, Warriors remained bigger than life. Bright smiles and explosions of magic and laughter which filled their small tent. For years, Time carried those memories of his big brother, and when he painted the picture for others, he often made Warriors even bigger and more dramatic just so they could have a good understanding of his big brother. In Time's mind, Warriors was supposed to remain strong and bright, so it hurt when Warriors was brought low.

Warriors whimpered and shifted restlessly on the bed. Time wanted to whimper, too, as he checked Warriors's shoulder again. The infection looked better, but the skin around the wound still looked painful and sickly to Time.

If Warriors was conscious, Time knew, he would hate all of this. He would hate every pained noise which slipped through his iron control, would hate being shirtless and vulnerable like this, would hate the knowledge that the boys were peeking through the doorway to check on him. Warriors was the medic. Warriors was the captain. He was the one who took care of people. People didn't take care of him.

Time forgot, over and over again, how much he relied on Warriors's steadiness. He pointedly did not look in the direction of the door and the worried watchers as he gently cleaned Warriors's wound.

It was getting better, he reminded himself. Sky had said so before he left to get some rest. When the infection was finally handled, they would be able to heal the wound with some red potion. Everything would be fine.

He heard Malon shooing the boys away from the doorway. Just hearing her voice let Time relax a bit more. If this happened without Malon's presence, Time had no idea what he would do.

"I want to go in there!" Wind protested. "I won't get in the way!"

"He's sleeping now," Malon said. "Link's taking care of him. He got blood on his scarf, though, and I haven't had a chance to clean it. Do you think you can help me with that?"

By the Three, Time loved her.

Wind grumbled, but Time heard Twilight's voice chime in. Of course, the only thing which would drag Twilight away was taking care of another member of the chain.

Warriors groaned as Time finished cleaning the wound and put a new bandage in place. His head lolled on the pillow. Time couldn't resist brushing his hair away from his face. As Time tucked his hair behind his ear, Warriors blinked his eyes open. "Mask?" he asked hoarsely.

Time swallowed another whimper. He rested his hand on Warriors's sweaty head. "Yes, it's me. Go back to sleep."

Warriors pouted. It reminded Time so much of the captain when he was younger that Time had to smile. "Ugh. How long have I been sleeping?"

Time couldn't resist. "Obviously not long enough. You have bags under your eyes."

Warriors made a face at him. Time grinned back. Warriors rolled his eyes. "Brat."

The bandage on Warriors's shoulder was clean and white. So different from how it looked yesterday. "Just rest. I'll wake you in time for dinner. Wild is going to help Malon in the kitchen."

Despite his annoyed frown, Time could see Warriors's eyes grow heavy again. Blood loss and infection took a lot out of him. "Don't let me sleep for long, 'kay? Slept too much..."

Warriors's words cut off with a yawn. Time smiled and pulled Warriors's blanket a little higher, covering his bare chest. "Yes, yes. I'll make sure you don't miss anything."

That earned him another look, but Warriors was already starting to doze off again.

He would be fine. Everyone had assured Time of that. Time knew that. It was a nasty wound, but they were able to take care of it in time and they were in a safe place.

Yet Time found himself lingering, anyway, hand still on Warriors's head. One day he would lose Warriors for real. One day he would lose his rock.

But not today. That day wasn't today.

[hyuuukais]

ੈ♡˳˚ ｡˚you are in love (1.7k)

→♡idol!bang chan x reader

→♡pov: u fall in love with bang chan

→♡warnings: a couple swears, food mention, a bit of description of panic

one look, dark room, meant just for you. time moved too fast, you play it back.

it felt like a million years ago, the first time you met. at an afterparty of sorts, still unsure why you were invited. ah, right, you weren't- a friend convinced you to be their plus one. you were so grateful for that now.

he approached you confidently, handing you a cold drink when you said you were getting too warm, leading you to a quiet area when it all got to be too much. his hands rubbing cooling circles into your back, soft words reassuring. inside you were freaking out because no way was this happening.

bang chan of stay kids was in here calming you down instead of talking to people equally as famous- you, who other than a fan account and private instragram, had barely any social media presence. in this moment he chose being with you over being with his members.

and that led to so much more than you could have ever expected.

small talk, he drives. coffee at midnight. the light reflects the chain on your neck. he says, "look up", and your shoulders brush.

you grew close quickly, finding you were a lot more similar than you thought. of course, you'd joked about being the chan between your friends, but that was based on what you as a fan got to see. now, the real chan; he was everything and more.

sneaking out of the dorms one chilly night, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, he takes you out to an open field outside of the city. when he parks, you get out and run around to the trunk to open it up and sit inside.

"wait for me!" he shouts, closing his door and chuckling. "you're so impatient."

"i wanna see the stars! they're so hard to see in the city 'cause of the light pollution." you gaze up, sky reflecting in your pupils. chan takes the edge of the blanket, wrapping the other half around him. your shoulders bump. "it's so beautiful."

he's thinking, not as beautiful as you.

he says, "look up, there's venus."

you can hear it in the silence, silence, you. you can feel it on the way home, way home, you. you can see it with the lights out, lights out-

everyone around you can see it; in the small touches and soft glances, in the homecooked meals and teasing, in your eyes and in his.

only you two stay oblivious to it, even when his laugh makes your heart beat faster, your cheeks redder. hearing it is music to your ears. seeing him smile is a prize, and you're the winner.

you are in love, true love.

the first time he almost kisses you, it leaves you thinking about it for days.

it was after a particularly amazing concert and you were backstage cheering the boys on. one perk of being best friends with the bang chan of stray kids? having tickets to every concert you wished to go to. he runs down the steps wiping his face with a towel someone hands him, spotting you a minute later, a huge smile breaking out on his face.

"god, did you see that? what am i saying- of course you did." he throws his arms around you. "uuuughh, that was the best show ever!"

"i love how passionate you are," you say, voice hoarse from singing along. "it's like your true self comes out up there. really amazing to watch."

"it's cause i knew you were back here the whole time."

"no it's not-"

"yes!" he pulls back from you. "well, maybe not the whole reason. you know, the kids too, and stay, but you're one of the reasons. do you know how much motivation you give me? so much."

you can't help the blush that spreads over your face, hiding it in his chest. his words mean a lot to you, more than you want to admit even to yourself. behind you, you can hear some of the boys teasing chan.

"let's go to the back," he pulls away completely, save for his hand in yours leading you to the tables of food. "but first, grab some food. we both need to eat."

each of you pile food onto a plate, slipping away to an empty dressing room. there are things everywhere, makeup, clothes; you sit on the empty couch by the door. chan joins you, leaning his head on your shoulder with a sigh. you turn your head, pressing your lips and nose into his hair. moments like these are precious to you, nothing crazy, just the two of you together.

chan sets his half empty plate down, and you follow his action. he then leans back mostly onto the couch with his neck resting on the arm. something impulsive jumps in you, crawling over his body.

surprised, he looks up at you, but you just lay down. a hand comes up to play with your hair, head resting right under his chin. his fingers come down slightly to outline your jaw, pausing at your ear to tuck your hair behind it. that hand lays entangled, the other lightly pushing your chin up to look at him. chan looks at you strangely, lips parted, face ever so slightly closer to yours.

what he wants to do is kiss you, but what he does instead is nearly knock you to the floor as the boys come into the room loudly laughing with each other.

one step, not much, but it said enough.

while the weather is cooling, but not too cold, you take a stroll together. it's just down the road and back, not risking straying too far from the building while chan is supposed to be working. you both took precautions to cover up, not wanting to run into anyone, wanting to enjoy another moment of peace together. however, that was not what happened.

"oh my god! oh my god! are you bang chan? i love stray kids!"

the grip chan has on your hand tightens, turning to face the girls coming up to him and blocking you with his body. they gush over chan, asking for autographs and photos. it takes them a while to notice you- to notice your hands.

"holy shit, look," the first girl notices. "is that your partner?" she jumps back and forth to address you guys. "ugh, i'm so jealous. i thought stay was your one true love... do you even know how lucky you are?"

a second girl starts, "i bet she's just using him-"

"hey!" chan speaks up without thinking, regaining his composure before continuing. "if they are my partner, that's not your concern. respectfully, leave us alone to finish our walk, thank you."

the girls protest, chan putting his arm around your shoulder and turning away from them. you didn't realize how fast your heart is beating or the way your palms started to sweat, eyes starting to sting. he brings you back inside, back up to the studio, and sits you down. you're frozen- you've never experienced anything like that during your whole friendship, up until now. carefully, chan helps you out of your layers of clothes, wrapping a blanket around you and bringing you into his arms.

"i'm so sorry."

finally, your voice finds you. "what? chan, no. don't be."

"you shouldn't have had to hear that-"

"i've heard worse probably," you look at him sadly, hands cupping his cheeks. "besides, i run a fan account, i'm no stranger to hate."

he's about to argue more, but you place a finger over his lips. they're soft, pink, plush. all he does is look at you and everything unwraps-

one night he wakes, strange look on his face.

on one of the many usually sleepless sleepovers you have, chan turns over in his bed to face you. by some miracle, you are asleep. he managed to rest a bit, but his mind is too focused on the body next to him. it wasn't unusual to share a bed; cuddling was no stranger. something about tonight is different though. maybe it was the way the moonlight peeks through, highlighting your features, or the way your chest rises and falls slowly, deeply, or maybe it's the way he realizes something.

something everyone already knew.

he is in love.

the thought alone makes his breath catch. of course he's in love! how could someone not fall in love with you? you, who is always so caring. you, who always knows what to say. you, who makes him feel so loved, so whole.

even though you look so peaceful, he can't wait any longer to confess-

you can hear it in the silence, silence, you-

"hey," he nudges you, you groan. "baby, i need to tell you something."

your eyes peel open, hand rubbing the sleep away. "what time is it?"

"four."

"fuck, chan."

"i know, but it can't wait."

you can feel it on the way home, way home, you-

this worries you into sitting up. "what's wrong?"

"nothing, nothing's wrong." he pushes himself up, leaning against the headboard. your arms touch in the dark. "in fact, everything is amazing."

"so i can go back to sleep-"

"no," he laughs and you smile at the sound. "listen."

you can see it with the lights out, lights out.

"baby... you are the light of my life. everything in my life has only gotten better since meeting you and, well-" he looks away for a moment. when he looks back, he puts a hand over yours gently. "i think- no, i know i've fallen in love with you." shock, that's what you feel. "don't feel pressured to say anything yet! i know it's a lot-"

you don't even register your body moving until you're on top of him, hands on his neck, face close. his breathing picks up and he thinks of that moment many moons ago, when he was going to kiss you.

there's nothing to interrupt him now.

you are in love, true love-

lips against yours, you understand fireworks. bodies mold into one, hands all over. yours are in his hair, one of his on your hip and the other on your neck, pulling you closer to him if that's possible. you only stop when you can no longer breathe.

"chan," he's all flushed, a wide smile slowly making it's way out. "i love you too, so much. so, so much."

and he leans in again.

you are in love.

nothing else compares to the feeling of being with him.

nothing can even compete.

-

notes ♡ happiest birthday to my baaaaaby @ashitshowforalot bc like tachi i cannot see u physically either but still wanted to gift u something. i really hope u enjoyed :3 i love you so so soooo much like so much you have no idea. have the best day mon amour <3 je t'aime beaucoup 💙🤎💗💙🤎💗💙🤎💗💙🤎💗💙🤎💗💙🤎💗

-> taglist ♡ @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143