#just casually memorising train schedules

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Can I get Steve and Hawkins but Hawkins has a bad day and Steve just holds her in his lap and kisses her and cuddles her and just tell her how much he loves her

Steve knew something wasn’t right when you walked into his room after work that evening.

But despite the way your relationship had changed over the years, one fact still remained true, even when you were together. You were stubborn. Not horrendously so, just enough where you needed a little convincing, usually from a soft touch, softer words, things Steve was happy to give you.

On better days, when you’d smirk and him and tilt your chin up, eyes flashing and words a little teasing, he’d fuck it out of you. Giving you the same treatment back as he pushed you into his bed or backed you onto his desk, dragging down your underwear whilst he held your gaze, grinning as you both waited to see who’d break first.

(Honestly, it was usually him. But there was something so unbelievably satisfying when he got you to the point of begging him to go touch you.)

This wasn’t one of those days. You looked tired and a little sad when you dropped your bag on his desk chair, mumbling a soft greeting then held little enthusiasm. Steve frowned at the sound of it, pushing himself up from where he’d been lazing on his bed with print outs of apartment listings.

“Hey,” he frowned at you, concern etched into the space between his eyebrows. “S’wrong?”

He watched you shrug, swiping at your eye with a hand. Here it came, the stubbornness. He saw it before it happened, could sense it in the set of your shoulders, the way you tried to keep your lip an even line.

“Nothing,” you replied, toeing off you sneakers and avoiding his gaze.

Steve waited.

“Little tired,” you finally said again, mentioning it casually as it it wasn’t written all over your face. “Bad day.”

“Yeah?” Steve hummed, voice kind. “Sorry, baby.”

He knew not to push too much, not yet. He had to work at you a little first, soften you, get his hands on you and make you melt. You shrugged again and leant against his desk, a small distance between you both that Steve decided just wouldn’t do.

“S’not your fault,” you told him, blinking plainly. Steve knew that if

you stayed where you were for much longer, stubbornness would give way to upset and you’d crack the wrong way. He hated when you cried. “Stupid manager, y’know?” Your voice wobbled.

Steve nodded, eyes soft on you. “I know.” He held out a hand, moving to the edge of the bed and swinging his legs over. He gestured to you, gaze trained on the way your shoulders drooped and you worried at your bottom lip with your teeth. “C’mere, princess.”

You sniffed and relented immediately, crossing the small space to take the boy’s hand and you let yourself be folded into his embrace. Steve pulled you between his knees and let his hands sit on the backs of your thighs, warm even through your jeans.

“Day off tomorrow?” He asked like he didn’t have your schedule that week memorised. He had to work, unfortunately, but he was pretty sure he could negotiate an earlier finish. You nodded, chin tucked to your chest as you held into your last bit of fight. “Wanna rent some movies? I’ll treat us to pizza on the way home.”

Steve wished he could’ve taken the day off with you altogether, but the want for an apartment together was high, and you both needed all the savings you could afford to store away. It’s why you were so tired, doing too much overtime with your shitty manager.

You nodded, your hands coming up to wind into his hair at the nape of his neck. You sighed, a release, eyes losing their hard gaze that had settled over them after a ten hour shift. “Please,” you whispered and your voice was like honey, sticky sweet. “Sounds nice.”

Steve hummed his agreement, kneading at the dough of your thighs and you leaned into him, head dropping forward to rest on top of his and you made a soft noise of delight.

“Yeah?” Steve asked.

You weren’t sure what he meant but you agreed anyway, nodding and pushing into him further. The boy grinned, having successfully gotten you to the point of putty against him. He tapped at the curve of your ass, head lifting so his nose brushed your chin and he smiled at the way your eyes were all sleepy, softer, just for him.

“Can I get a kiss?”

You answered with your lips pressed to his, a sigh leaving your chest as you did, ‘cause Steve’s mouth was a warm push against your own, gentle and grounding. It was a lazy kiss, one that made you melt into him further, ice cream on a hot day. You pushed your way onto his lap, knees splayed apart over his thighs and the crook of Steve’s neck was the perfect place for you to hide your face.

“Love you,” Steve murmured and you’d never get over the way he said those words, soft and sincere and with a kiss against your temple.

You wrapped your arms around him a little tighter, a soft noise coming from your throat at the sweetness of it all and it made Steve grin, victorious.

“Love you too, Stevie.”

…

[marvelmusing]

Crosshairs

Pairing: Dark!Billy Russo x Fem!Stalker!Reader

Summary: After a few months of stalking Billy, you make the decision to curb your obsession, believing that he deserves better than you. Billy doesn’t agree. part of the same AU as this drabble here

Warnings: stalking, unconventional and non healthy relationship, minor violence, this two aren’t exactly sane but they’re meant for each other

My Masterlist

The smile on your face seems to pacify the investors surrounding you, despite the fact that the expression doesn’t reach your eyes. You stare down at the floor for a long moment, as the rest of the group exchange their pleasantries.

Over the last few weeks, you’ve been increasingly distracted. Suppressing the urge to watch Billy has taken more effort than you had initially thought. Following him home after work, listening to him on a morning and evening through the bugs in his house, and watching him through his bedroom windows - it had all become a habit for you. A habit that had been near torture to quit.

The worst part was that Billy had indulged you. He had photos of you. He could have gone to the police, or sought you out himself. But he hadn’t. It was your own conscience that had stopped your stalking in its tracks. After all, what would your next step be? You couldn’t kidnap him, there would be too many questions if a CEO disappeared. You would have to meet him, and from this realisation your self consciousness had set in. Would he even like you?

Seeing him from a distance, and watching him during his most intimate moments, had all seemed safe for you. There was no chance of rejection.

You look up at the group surrounding you, barely even processing their words. Then your gaze slides over the rest of the room. There’s plenty of people gathered in the ballroom for the charity gala, dressed in designer clothes, and sipping on flutes of champagne. You try not to sigh, wiggling your foot to adjust it’s position in your shoe.

Then your eyes land on him. You can hardly breathe.

It’s him. It’s Billy.

His dark eyes roam over your body, starting at your heels, before fixating on your bare legs revealed by the slit in your dress. His eyes linger on your chest for a long moment, until he catches a glimpse of your face. Then he realises. That the pretty girl he was just eyeing up was the same girl that had been stalking him for the last few months - minus your recent attempt at cold turkey.

His expression darkens and you also come to a realisation. There was something worse than his rejection. His anger. You knew full well how dangerous Billy was. You had seen him run training drills, and during his own workout sessions in his home gym.

You make some quick excuses before you’re making your way through the crowd towards the door. Your heart is hammering in your chest as you walk swiftly through the hallways. You make it around another corner, only to be slammed against the nearest wall. The scream in your throat dies as Billy curls his fingers around your neck.

“Well, well, well.” He muses with a dark expression, though his tone is light, almost casually conversational as if he wasn’t cutting off your air supply. “Look what we have here.”

His eyes drop down to admire your dress, as you writhe pitifully against his hold. A wicked smile tugs at his lips as he continues,

“You’ve got some real nerve, I’ll give you that.” His eyes blaze with anger as he tightens his hold on you. “Ignoring me for weeks, then showing up in public dressed like this.”

He eases the pressure on your throat, and you gasp as the oxygen returns to your head.

“I didn’t know you’d be here.” You protest weakly, and he raises a brow at you. You can hardly blame him for not believing you. Just a few weeks ago you had his whole schedule memorised. You always knew where he was. Your voice is small as you repeat in a near whisper, “I didn’t.”

“You disappeared.” Billy says, his tone hard and defensive. Your brow crinkles in confusion.

“I thought I’d gone far enough.” Tears prickle in the corner of your eyes at your admission, and Billy drops his hand from your throat. “You deserve better than me.”

His laughter is sharp, and filled with self depreciation as he scoffs,

“Bullshit.”

“Billy, the things I want to do you, they’re not healthy.”

“Tell me.” You shake your head, but he leans even closer to leave a trail of kisses along your throat. “Tell me exactly what you want to do to me.”

“I can’t.” You shake your head again, tears falling onto his face as he continues to kiss along your skin. You can hardly believe this is happening. That Billy - your Billy - was kissing the blooming marks left by his fingers. He sucks on the skin lightly, and you whimper at the sting of his tongue against the slowly forming bruises. Your toes curl at the dizzying contrast, the soft heat of his mouth after his hands were wrapped around your throat.

“You’ve broken into my house, left filthy pictures of yourself for me to find, and stole I don’t know how many pairs of my boxers.” Blood floods to your cheeks, and an almost painful tingle of embarrassment runs over your skin. “But letting me in on those dirty thoughts of yours is too much?”

Your fingers dig into the fabric of his jacket, and you take a shuddering breath.

“Oh fuck.” You breathe out, before you finally admit, “I want to follow you to a bar when you meet up with your friends.” Your eyes are squeezed shut tightly, you can’t bare to meet his eyes but now that your thoughts are flowing you can’t bring yourself to stop. “I want to wait until you’re stumbling home drunk, and to take you home with me instead. I want you to wake up in my apartment, tied to the bed. I want you to depend on me completely. I want you to be mine.”

Billy doesn’t react. His expression doesn’t move an inch, but there’s an entire world of thoughts and emotions swimming in the dark pools of his eyes. He’s never belonged to anyone, and deep down he’s always wanted to. He thought he would find some sense of belonging in the army, then with Frank. But neither of those lasted. And now here you were, wanting him so desperately that you had broken the law just to catch a glimpse of him.

Maybe you were right. Maybe this wasn’t healthy. But he’s never had any sort of relationship that wasn’t a little dysfunctional.

“And then?” He asks softly as he traces his finger along your jawline. Your fingers are still hooked around his jacket, and you manage to meet his eyes with an intensity that has a sharp shiver running down his spine.

“And then I’d never let you go.”

»»---------------------►

Billy Russo Tag List: @blackbirddaredevil23 @restingbitchsblog @tiredbeebo @rafaelakelley @theysayitscrazy @hummelmi @nyx2021 @skybridgerton @dragon-of-winterfell @profoundme444 @misstimeless @booksandbenbarnes @blanchedelioncourt @chickensarentcheap @katedrexel @stardust-danvers @sweetwritingfanficfriend @witchcraftandwit

[leggerefiore]

since we already got nsfw hcs of yandere ingo and emmet... may we have general hcs of them? maybe how they became obsessed with their s/o?

perhaps...

cw: yandere, drugging, kidnapping, all the good stuff related with yanderes except murder!

tunes for ingo and emmet

▲Ingo▼

● You were likely just a commuter on the subway while he was doing a weekly check. Something about you caught his attention. The way you spoke to a crying child so gently and calmly. His heart clenched at the sight. Ingo approaches, as is his job, and introduces himself to both of you. Your smile and name were branded into the depths of his mind. It started out as an innocent interest. You exchanged numbers and began to talk casually. Little things like you texting a meal you made that night, how you think it's adorable he can name a list of passenger trains by region alphabetically, and the way you chided him for overworking himself. You cared. He needed someone who could care for him the way you do.

● You were becoming close fast. He noticed the way his composure broke in your presence; his dreams are filled with you at his side as his loving spouse. Children as somewhere in the picture, but Ingo just can't place them yet. It didn't begin with bad intention, but the garden of jealousy flourished as he realised the competition vying for your gentle affection. You were never to blame, so fully ignorant to the vultures lingering above your proverbial roadkill. Ingo knows they can't take care of you like he can. His lip is bit hard enough to draw blood as he watches the filthy Kantonian boy who seems to think he has your heart.

● He memorises your time and habits. Everything is thoroughly documented like a train schedule weeks in advance. Ingo is always watching from the shadows. You're never truly alone, but that fact evades you. The Subway Boss will know everything about you. A surprise gift of your favourite sweets after a devastating shift at work, his unexpected presence at a corner store you frequent, and a love letter from some who is aware of the most insignificant things in your life. Ingo will do anything to prove himself. He wants you to come willingly into his arms. His romantic heart yearns for it. (Yet his darker thoughts devour the softness to leave not even scraps. He needs you.)

● Emmet notices that his brother is acting strangely towards you, and goes to pry. His actions are halted when he catches a glimpse of the expression Ingo wears. He knows it; he knows it verrrrry well. He's just the same. A soft, reassuring hand is clamped onto the older twin's shoulder.  Ingo will have you assuredly.

● Everything comes to an abrupt end when he sees the ginger meet you in the station with a bouquet of marigolds. The blush is heavy on his cheeks and your hands grasp around your mouth. Ingo manages to resist every urge in his body screaming to hurt the trainer. He wants to make him pay for such a flagrant display in his station. Emmet wraps a comforting arm around the older twin, who begins to sob from all the emotions fizzing in his carbonated head. Your days as a free bird are numbered. Enjoy your time with him while it lasts.

● You're invited to hang out in his office with him during a break. Everything seems normal, he organises some paperwork and talks about a powerful trainer who had challenged him recently. What you weren't expecting was his next actions. He sits across from you at his desk and rests his elbows against the wood while his head leaned into his hands. An intense gaze peered from pale eyes as he cleared his throat, “I love you, dear. I have been entirely entranced by your presence since I first laid my eyes on you with that child. My heart aches knowing that you are with another… I can't take it. Please, tell me you feel the same.” It's uncomfortable. You might have felt that way before you had gotten together with Blue but presently… Shaking your head, the ink wet the contract of the rest of your life. Chandelure's hypnosis didn't even go detected by you as it knocked you out cold. Ingo stares achingly when you fall forward onto his desk. Why did the boy get your heart? You needed someone who could take care of you.

● You'll regain consciousness in an unfamiliar bedroom. The duvet beneath you a dark charcoal, the walls a lame grey and a familiar pokemon lying at your feet. Crustle perks up at your awakening before they scuttle off. It had not been a dream. Your hands were bound to the metal headboard. Ingo confessed his love for you, then apparently knocked you out somehow. You wanted to cry but needed to remain strong. The quietly open and reveals the man himself in an almost comedic apron, carrying a steaming bowl of something. A small, foreign smile graces his face as he sits the food down on the bedside table. “Ah, thank you, darling. Your silence is greatly appreciated,” he sits down near you and simply stares around you with pure, unadulterated adoration. “The walls are soundproof… Emmet helped me create this room especially for you. He's ecstatic that we're finally together. According to him, we're both in for a rough time until you learn to love me.” Your stomach drops. This wasn't a joke; Ingo seriously intended to hold you hostage.

● He's so gentle with you. Physical harm is never a concern, but your mental state is slowly eroded by his waves of unyielding affection. Left alone with nothing to entertain you for Ingo's long shifts at the station, you begin to crave his soft touches and loving praises. It's disgusting and you want to vomit. He feeds you meals so tenderly. It's all of your favourite dishes. How did he know? You didn't want to find out.

● You're held close to him while he whispers such unbelievably romantic things to you that slowly twists and shift in shining examples of obsession. You're going to marry him, you're going to raise children with him, you're going to be the perfect partner. All you have to do is love him like he loves you. It's such a small price to pay for him taking care of you.

● Punishments are embarrassing more than anything else. If you get mouthy and yell insults at him, he forces a pacifier as a gag into your mouth, since you're acting like a child. Chandelure uses hypnosis on you if you're being particularly bad and denying him the ability to touch you. Ingo needs to feel your warmth, please just comply. He treats you well.

● You'll find yourself with more freedoms as you give into his will. You're allowed to be unbound when he's at home, then you're just locked in the bedroom, you're given access to a television and books of your choosing. You'll notice some of his personal additions seem to be about homemaking. He's never subtle with how he wants you to be with him. It's disturbing how the twin wants you to just be a willing, waiting spouse for him. What horrifies you further is how you're becoming more and more comfortable with it. You need to escape soon.

● Should you fully give in, you're given freedom to roam his apartment. Escape is pointless, you come to accept. You learn to cook if you didn't already know, and everything becomes easier to lie about. There was never any love for Blue, you were just attempting to make Ingo jealous. (He's still searching for you. The trainer refuses to give up; he refuses to lose. It was a loss the minute you failed to tell him where you were going that fateful afternoon.) Dinner is ready just as Ingo enters, earlier than usual. His stoicism breaks at the sight of you setting the table. “Dear, I think it's finally time we started our family,” he pulls you in for a long, tender kiss with the statement. There's no point in disagreeing. In fact, children would bring more excitement into your life. You agree.

● If you manage to escape, congrats! Get the hell out of Unova! Elesa is posting and asking for anyone to contact her if they see you. Emmet is scouring the region alongside his brother to find you. It's terrifying. Don't bother with a plane, Skyla is waiting at the airport. Your best bet is by ship. Head to Kanto and hunt down your real boyfriend, he's your best bet. Of course, it's only a matter of time. Ingo isn't giving up on you after how close you were to breaking. (Your body betrays you and craves his affection. It never goes away. His words linger in your mind. Had you failed, you would likely be the willing partner the Subway Boss desperately wanted.)

▽Emmet△

○ You were a trainer who managed to beat him on the Super Line. Your abilities and ability to quickly draw strategies caught his attention. He likes winning, yes, but a loss against a challenging opponent is a driving force to chase after the high of victory. Your name was given before battling, and when you go to get off the Subway, you'll notice the way Emmet gets off with you. Small talk with him is strange, but you decide to give him your number, hoping he might be interested in training with you. You meet up with him afterwards and become fast friends. He's odd, but so sweetly affectionate that you find yourself happy to let the still then acquaintance hug you. Not to mention, your battling skills have greatly improved due to his assistance. The way you smile at him and the warmth your body proves quickly becomes an addiction for the twin. Emmet never wanted to let you go.

○ You were never left alone after the Subway Boss entered your life. He clang to your side and refused to let you go. Emmet desired so much more than that. Everyone tried to take your attention from him and make you present those fake grins. He knows they don't make you happy, not like he does. You're destined to be his loving partner, perhaps even a trainer couple, if he could bare having other's eyes on you. His envy burns hotly whenever you dare look at another with adoring eyes. A Galarian man seems to consume your time, despite his best efforts to claim it all for himself. Emmet seethes in silence.

○ Emmet knows every little thing about you. He memorised it all as he refuses to leave you alone. Even if it grows annoying and unbearable, the younger twin will never come unstuck from you. In his sick mind, you're already dating. He's your loving boyfriend, and you're just being mean for no good reason. Romantic rivals are chased off, expensive gifts are given freely, and your schedule is consumed by the Subway Boss. He coddles and cuddles you to a maddening extent. You'll beg for him to stop, but he won't listen. He's your perfect lover.

○ Ingo will notice this behaviour. Emmet skips work and isn't present for their usual get-togethers. Silver eyes meet matching one as he sees his twin go on about you. Ingo understands his brother's state; he is precisely the same. “Should you ever need help with them, Emmet…” Ingo starts as he pours a cup of tea for him, “I am willing to assist you in any way you may need. Do not hesitate to call upon me.” The younger twin grins at his dear older brother. They were more similar than they were different.

○ You break his delusion when the Galarian man casually wraps an arm around you during a time-slot you foolishly gave to him. Emmet watches nearby, waiting for you to shake off his embrace and scold him. Tell the turquoise eyed man off. You never do. No, instead, you lean in to kiss his cheek. He snaps a picture of you two with his phone. Emmet's nails dig into the tree he's hiding behind. No, no, no- You loved him. You had to. Emmet loved you verrrrrrry much. This interloper had to go. Emmet would kill him. Though, he remembers Ingo's offer.

○ The twin invites you to his apartment (soon to be shared with you, he's so excited) to hang out with him and Ingo. You accept, relieved the other twin will be there. Maybe if he sees how Emmet is acting, he'll intervene and help you escape the toxic friendship. Everything is seemingly normal until Ingo excuses himself to the restroom. Left alone with Emmet, you watch as he sips the heavily creamed black tea. The porcelain clicks against the table as he sets it down. “Darling… You have been verrrrry naughty,” his pale eyes glare into your soul, yet a smile never leaves his face. You were annoyed, of course he'd only do this after Ingo left the room. “You shouldn't kiss others and let them embrace you when you're in a relationship with somebody else.” Everything feels unsteady and heavy. What happened? You attempted to stand and run, but a haze overcame your mind. Falling to the floor, you cried out for Ingo. Emmet had drugged you. Said twin, wrapped his arms around you and shushed you. Ingo's footsteps marched around you to lock the door. You sobbed as everything became more and more impossible to focus on.

○ You woke up in a bedroom closely resembling your own, but with new, unwanted details. Pure white sheets covered you, and a pet bed of Joltiks rested on the dresser facing the bed. Your hands were bound to the headboard by leather, padded cuffs. Screaming out, you hoped someone would rescue you. This startled the Joltiks from their slumber, and many crept away under the door. Moments passed. Surely, someone heard. The window showed it was daytime, and Emmet would never leave you alone somewhere he couldn't access you easily. The door creaked open and revealed the man himself. Your favourite desert was lying on a plate he carried. His smile grew larger when he noticed you. “Love, that won't do anything. Ingo helped me soundproof this room. Only I can hear you,” he fished a baby monitor from his joggers' pocket. The dessert is sat on the bedside table. His arms tangle themselves around you while he places kisses wherever he can. It's disgusting, the actions make you want to vomit. “Ingo told me it will take a moment for you to realise you love me. I will wait.”

○ You're smothered in affection. Physical contact is something you're never without. It unwinds your mental threads ever so slowly. Alone for hours without any contact or ways to occupy your mind, then over burdened with touch until you can't take it anymore. You start to ease into his hugs and kisses; you stop spitting out your food when he tries to feed you. Cruel words are halted in favour of silence. He whispers his declarations of love to you. He's breaking you down.

○ It grows easier to pretend you are his lover, do what he wants. He cares for you; he loves you. Do you feel the same? Maybe. You press an unconscious kiss onto his forehead. Immediately you recoil with shame and disgust eat at your stomach lining. Emmet beams at the affection. Any progress is good progress. You're finally falling into the delusion he lives comfortably in.

○ Punishments are cold and empty. He leaves you alone without contact or stimulation for days. You'll break down and weep for him to forgive you in the end. That or he makes them sexual (see the nsfw post). He's reshaping you so slowly. Patiently, your thread is beginning to run thin. Emmet couldn't be happier. He hates punishing you, however. No contact for you means no contact for him.

○ You're given more freedoms as time trickles on, and you fall into his delusion. (Perhaps you had always been dating him.) Bindings are removed, you're given television, the Joltiks are allowed to spend time with you, he'll buy books and offline games. Emmet will spoil you rotten. He wants you to be happy. You're slowly growing to enjoy the things he does for you. It's easier and easier to just be in relationship with the younger twin. Raihan's pleas on the news for your return snap you from the artificial daze. You need to escape.

○ Yet… It's so easy to comply with Emmet. He does truly spark joy within you. You love the Subway Boss; you always had. Raihan was just a way to make him jealous and pay more attention to you. Emmet had been too busy with work, and you felt under loved. (Raihan never gives up. He knows the creepy train twin took you. Unova keeps denying his inquiries, and even Leon is saying it's best to leave it alone. He will not. Ingo pays him a visit.) The door is opened late one evening and the twin steps inside. He's brought take-out home for dinner. Plastic bags shift audibly as his shoes are slipped off. You pop up from the living room with a Joltik stuck on your shoulder. Emmet beams at the adorable scene, “You know… They are similar to kids. I think we should have actual children soon. That's what couples do, right?” You nod, that is what couples do. The food is set down as he starts chatting about something that happened during his shift. This is a perfectly normal relationship, after all. Starting a family is your next step.

○ If you escape, please promptly escape Unova and never look back. Emmet's connections with gym leaders and the league has many people in high places looking to return you to the delusional man. Get over to Galar by ship, as planes are unsafe and bring unwanted attention. There, you need to hunt down Raihan and tell him what the hell had happened. He'll protect you to the best of his extremely capable abilities. Though, you're never truly safe. Emmet will find you; it's only a matter of time. (Raihan notices how clingy you've become. You hold on to to him for dear life, as if the moment you let go he'll disappear into nothingness. Emmet blossomed a desperate craving in you. He was so close to having you as deluded as him. If only Raihan wasn't so demanding.)

[biisexualemma]

ready. bucky barnes

word count: 2426

warnings: not really, brief mention of anxiety? i guess but really just fluffy and flirty with a bit of angst

requested: nope i wrote this literally years ago

plot: bucky is constantly flirting with you, until he think you don’t like him back

a/n: can’t decide if i like this but it’s late and i’ve edited this so many times and i can’t look at it anymore so here lol

masterlist

"hey, pretty girl,” bucky's voice was instantly recognisable, so turning in your seat you weren't surprised to see him entering the kitchen.

"hey," you tightened your lips into a sweet smile. bucky was always nice to you, sometimes kind of flirty but you liked it. besides, it was more than you could say for his relationships with most of the avengers.

the day was red hot, you had all the windows open and still you were sweating like a pig. that’s why bucky had to walk in to see you sat at the island in the kitchen area, frozen peas sitting atop your head and a lolly ice hanging out your mouth.

"lolly ice?" you offered, removing yours from your mouth to make the offer. he shook his head, pursing his lips to stop himself from laughing at you. you knew you looked stupid but you were sweaty, and this was helping.

"you look pretty hot," he commented. he wandered over to the fridge but his eyes travelled to where you sat only in shorts and a spaghetti strap top. he gulped, quickly shifting his eyes away before you could catch him staring, sticking his head in the fridge to cool down. "literally,” he mumbled.

you nodded, absentmindedly as you spun in your chair again, your eyes following his every move. you wondered how he looked so put together when it was so hot. "tony's got someone working on the ac.”

"i don't know why he doesn't do it himself," you hummed in agreement.

“yeah— he calls himself a tech genius but can’t even fix the air con— make it make sense,” he chuckled a little along with you. it was one of your many shared interests, making fun of tony.

finishing your lolly ice you slid off your chair, removing the peas from your head and walked to the bin to recycle the stick. bucky was crouched down in front of the fridge still, his backside standing between you and the bin. "uh— 'scuse me.”

bucky glanced over his shoulder, seeing you hovering above him waiting for him to budge. straightening himself up again, he leaned against the fridge, blocking your path still and his arms folded across his chest. "password?"

you rolled your eyes, cracking a small laugh at his behaviour. "stop, just let me through."

"i'm serious," the forming smirk on his lips said otherwise. "what's the password, sweetheart?"

the pet name rolled casually off his tongue, like it was just as common for him to call you this as your own name. you didn’t let it shake you. you were an expert when it came to bucky and his flirting at this point, you just had to not play into what he wanted.

"fine, be that way,” you flung the lolly ice stick over him, landing it in the recycling bin.

you smiled knowingly and he shoved you lightly. "cheater," he mumbled with an amused smile, grabbing a beer from the fridge and catching your shoulder as he walked passed you.

you liked to tease bucky when he would flirt with you, by not playing into it, he tended to just give up quicker.

sometimes you thought he might be serious, which wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing, but you also knew you weren't ready for that conversation. you also didn't want to embarrass yourself by assuming he actually liked you in the first place. it was complicated, at least, it was for you.

"you know, you should wear this more often," his voice rang through your ears, goosebumps running down your neck. you could feel him standing behind you, hardly much distance between the two of you now.

you turned to face him, finding yourself practically nose to nose. you gulped with the newfound closeness and lost your words for a second, your lips parting slightly and nothing coming out. his eyes moved down to your lips, noticing your blunder as a small smile came onto his face. he was always looking for little hints that you felt something back, that his efforts weren't being completely lost.

you squealed, flinching when the cold beer bottle come into contact with your hot skin, pulling you out of your haze. you stepped back from him, creating some much needed space but evidently confused why he defused the heated situation so quickly.

"jeez’, bucky," you weren't angry, your defence was more to do with the fact that he'd caught you flustered by him.

"sorry, you looked a little dazed," he wore a knowing smile. you tried to play off the embarrassed flush in your cheeks as due to the heat. but you both knew you'd gotten caught up in his flirting.

you told yourself most of the time that bucky’s flirting was playful— that it wasn’t flirting at all, he was just trying to be friendly. you had to tell yourself something to stop yourself from falling for him every time he’d look at you like that.

you forced a smile, pulling yourself away from his stare for a second to shake your head. "whatever,” calmly you brushed his shoulder to walk away from him, choosing to ignore whatever was going on here.

you were halted by him grabbing your forearm, the cool metal from his hand was surprisingly pleasant against your flushed skin.

"wait," his eyebrows knitted together softly when you looked at him this time, the smile and amusement practically wiped from his face. he spoke, cutting the tension that was growing more and more with every second. "do you really not like me back?"

your lips parted slightly, stunned by his forwardness. you’d never had this conversation before, you weren’t ready for this conversation. though you’d always suspected he had a bit of a crush, you tried not to encourage it. not because you didn't feel the same way, but because you just weren’t ready for any of what came after a crush.

"you— like me?"

bucky's eyebrows unknitted, glancing away from you for a second and choking out a short, fake laugh. "was it not obvious?"

you shook your head, quickly correcting yourself when his smile began to fade. "well— no— yeah. kinda. i don't know— i guess i—“ you didn’t know how to finish your sentence. you wanted to tell him you felt the same, but you were not ready for this. so you stopped yourself from saying anything. “i don’t know what i thought,” you said, defeatedly.

"right,” he nodded, slightly hurt that he’d let himself get caught up in something that wasn’t real. “i get it,” he stepped back and loosened his grip on your arm letting it fall back to your side. "sorry. that was awkward. i didn't mean to make this weird for you."

"you didn't make it weird, buck," you tried to assure him because you really didn't want him to take back what he'd said.

"it's alright, y/n,” he forced a smile, despite the knock back. "see you at training."

"buck—" you spoke softly, as he walked passed you, missing your shoulder and leaving you alone again. your hand slipping from his wrist as you tried to hold him back. your heart felt heavy, that felt wrong.

—

you didn't see bucky again until you got to training later on that evening. you had been scheduled to train with bucky and sam, but steve informed you when you arrived that he'd switched it around so you were paired with wanda and himself.

you’d spent the rest of the day reliving your conversation with bucky, full of guilt. you couldn’t think about anything else, it was consuming you. bucky liked you, and you crushed him by not telling him how you felt. all because you were scared.

the whole session was a nightmare, your mind was elsewhere the entire time with bucky training on the other side of the room. you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing in his direction every few minutes. he looked a little off his game too.

you'd taken a few hits, you were far too distracted to be memorising steve’s fighting patterns. you found yourself muttering apologies throughout the entire session. even wanda managed to knock you on your ass, and she was possibly the weakest when it came to no-magic hand-to-hand combat.

you caught bucky’s eye as you fell, slamming into the mat, your breathing heavy as you lay exhausted on your back. both steve and wanda towered over you. eventually steve held out his hand after giving you a breather, wincing as he pulled you back onto your feet. "sorry," you mumbled for the hundredth time, tucking a few loose, sweaty hairs out of your face.

“alright, that’s enough for today,” steve ordered, his eyebrows knitted softly as he watched you pant. you weakly tried to protest but he was firm.

“we all have off days, don’t worry about it,” wanda tried to reassure you with a soft smile, handing you a bottle of water which you accepted thankfully and gulped down.

you could feel bucky watching you, your eyes trailing over to him but he looked away just as quickly, only just dodging sam’s fist.

"hey— where was your head tonight?" steve nudged your shoulder, bringing you out of your daze again, as he'd been doing all night. your eyes moved away from bucky who was now packing up his stuff. you looked at steve, who was wearing his concerned-dad expression that you’d seen one too many times, and shrugged your shoulders.

"i dunno’, probably just the heat,” you lugged your bag over your shoulder as you began to leave the gym, walking backwards to continue your conversation with cap.

"i thought tony fixed the ac—"

"i gotta go. see you tomorrow, cap."

you rushed out of the gym, chasing bucky who had left minutes before you, only being held back by your conversation with steve. you groaned as you realised bucky was nowhere to be seen. you had decided halfway through training that you needed to talk to him. a couple of hits to your head seemed to knock a bit of sense into you.

after navigating the maze-like corridors you reached the avengers private quarters. passing your own room, speed walking down the corridor, reaching bucky's room and knocking quickly before you could chicken out.

"hey," he smiled, opening up his door, still in his training gear and trying to act as if nothing was wrong. but you could feel the wrong kind of tension between you two now. you didn't want things to be like this from now on. "whats up?"

"can i come in?" you asked. your breathing was heavier than usual, your nerves were getting the better of you. "i need to talk about earlier," he sighed, you caught wind of his exhaustion but he opened his door to you anyway letting you in.

you clutched onto your hands tight. you had to just tell him otherwise things would be bad between you two whether either of you decided to acknowledge it or not. so after you heard the door shut, you spun around to face him again, fiddling with your hands as you parted your lips to speak.

"bucky, i didn't mean to make you feel bad before,” you started.

"i already told you its alright, y/n,” he shrugged. “i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” but you shook your head, pacing closer to him.

"you didn't let me explain," you pleaded. you pulled at your fingers, a bad habit you had when you were nervous. "i don't not like you, i'm just... i’m scared,” your voice grew softer the nearer you got to finishing your sentence.

you forced eye contact with him, trying to convey your sincerity. "i've never had this before. i don't know how to respond to your flirting and its not that i'm not interested— because i am. i really am. i just don't— i don't know how to do this."

your nervous habit worsened when he didn't speak afterwards, you were worried that you were too honest with him. this is is why you didn't want to tell him, you didn't want him to judge you.

so you were surprised when he reached out his hands, clasping his own arounds yours. he let a warm, hesitant smile work onto his lips, sending you silent reassurance and calming your nerves slightly.

"i didn't mean to make things worse,” you apologised.

“no—“ he shook his head. "no— it's ok."

"it is?" you questioned. you weren't one hundred percent convinced that everything was ok with the two of you. you didn't know where you stood now. he nodded. "but—"

"it's fine. we can take it slow, if you’re not ready,” he squeezed your hand gently. "i'm still refreshing my memory anyway. all i have to go off are expired moves."

your lips parted into an unsure smile. "y’sure?"

"yeah, why wouldn't i be?"

you shrugged. "i don't know."

you were still scared in all honesty. this would be your first relationship, your first anything. and you knew this wasn’t bucky’s first anything. you felt like your definition of slow could mean something completely different to his.

"what's going on in that head?" he mumbled, noticing your glossy expression, using your entangled hands to pull you closer to him. you gulped now that he was inches away from you again.

bucky gave your hands a gentle squeeze, sensing your unease. he shook his head. “you don’t have to worry.”

you nodded, biting down on the inside of your cheek. he eyes scanned your face, noticing your slight furrowed brow and wide eyes. “i heard you when you said you weren’t ready,” he practically whispered, your eyes meeting his again when he did. he moved one hand to your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin. your eyes drooped shut, relaxing against his warm skin, a complete contrast to the cold of his metal hand you’d felt earlier. there was something reassuring about the way he was holding you, it made you feel safe. “we can go at your pace.”

he seemed to sense your anxiety before it could consume you, you didn’t know how he did it.

you released a soft, shy smile. "thank you," you spoke quietly, unsure how to react and respond to him still. you just knew you were grateful for him. “i like you, a lot, buck,” a smile started to emerge on his lips, your stomach twisting. "jus' don’t forget that.”

he shook his head. “i won’t.”

[listentothelittlebird]

This was a first draft to Protect Our Own, from my Code Bat series on Ao3! It’s a reimagining of Jason Todd breaking into Titans tower, in a world where Robin is a myth and Tim Drake goes by Alvin, unnamed vigilante, with the Titans. Enjoy!

Shit. Jason was screwed.

Even as he held the tablet in his hands, watching the very concerning stalker-level footage that the League had gathered, he knew. He knew without a doubt that he was watching the new Robin. The target chosen for him was, of all the options the world could give him, Robin.

“This boy is a member of a group of young superheroes known as Young Justice. They recently went under the mentorship of older superheroes, to become the newest team of Teen Titans,” Talia Al Ghul explained passively, and Jason did not like the gleam in her eyes as she watched the young boy fight, “Lady Shiva met the boy, once, and agreed to train him. Even she is unaware of who his previous mentors were.”

Thank goodness for small mercies.

Then Talia turned to Jason. “You have done an admirable job of controlling your Pit Madness,” she smiled sharply, and Jason was reminded of all the deaths he had caused, all the people who had taught him and were murdered by him, using their own tactics, “And you have learnt fast. As promised, you will complete one contracted kill, and you will be released to exact your own revenge.”

Jason gave himself a mental pat on the shoulder, because even in the early days of crazed anger, not once had he given proper clues towards the fact that his killer - the one he wanted to exact his revenge upon - was the Joker himself. “White-faced asshole” could just be a white man, and “fucking green-haired piece of shit” could still just apply to anyone with green hair.

The Robin secret was still safe, surprisingly. Code Bat was still safe.

The assassin base was in the middle of nowhere, but there was still a little town nearby, with enough reception to surf the internet on a phone he had nicked from a particularly rich-looking traveller. 

Talia did not control what he knew, the League did not control what he knew, so even while he learnt of the Joker still being alive, he also learnt about the helicopter crash, how Batman had purposefully fled empty-handed. Truthfully, he still wanted the Joker dead - but he recognised that there was a chance that no matter how many times they tried, the bastard would come back. He would rather not try than to get stuck in a never-ending loop, something that B- that Bruce must have realised.

There were other stories he found. Jason could not deny destroying several rooms in the base when he read the kid’s story. All the money in the world, and his very-much-alive parents could care less than Jason’s own barely-there mother had. 

He had not known if the boy had taken up the mantle after him, but he was unsurprised at the confirmation in front of him. Robin was as much a part of the Wayne family as champagne, fancy suits and camera smiles.

“The boy is young, and already he is excelling in combat, research, and investigation. In a few years, he will be a real threat to the League. This is your final assignment. Kill the boy, and we will let you go.”

Well, fuck. 

Jason carefully controlled his reaction, turning to meet Talia’s eye with his blue-green eyes. “You want me to kill a minor,” Jason spoke slowly, allowing his incredulity and a tinge of anger to slip into his voice.

“Either you take the job, or you will continue training, until another opportunity arises,” Talia replied evenly. Which meant anything from a week later to never. 

Jason gritted his teeth, sucked in a deep breath, and pushed it all out at once. “When are we leaving?” he questioned. Talia’s grin was sharp, like a predator before their strike.

-

Double shit. This just got way more complicated.

Jason had bargained with Talia for a week of preparation work - a week to scout out the Titans tower, as if he had not memorised the layout of the old one. As if they had not built the new tower in the exact way as the old one had been.

“We will have League members surrounding the building,” Talia announced, a day after they had landed in the city. Jason raised an eyebrow at her. 

“We are curious as to who has trained this boy,” Talia explained, “Subdue the boy’s teammates, and make him vulnerable. Don’t block radio transmissions. If the boy has maintained contact with his mentor, they would come running at their call.”

Jason cursed inwardly, keeping his face carefully blank as he nodded his assent.

He had to play this right. 

-

“I don’t trust this,” Bruce rumbled for the fourth time, in full Batman mode despite being in a casual sweater and sweatpants.

Dick hummed along, casting a concerned glance Tim’s way.

On the table was a note, delivered through an unassuming envelope. 

It stated a date and specific hour, and, Don’t call the Code. 

“The code,” Tim mumbled, “Like, Code Bat? There’s no way they’d know that, though, right?”

The note was written on red paper, flecked with green and yellow. Tim’s tone was wavering, lacking its usual confidence. He was always so sure when it came to cases, but this? 

“What’s happening at this time?” Dick wondered. Bruce pulled up his own schedule for the following week, and Tim mentally went through his own plans. Nothing of note, but-

“I’ll be in Titans tower,” Tim stated aloud, and there were gears turning in his brain. Wild gears that were nearly off their hinges, but they were the same gears that had made the Batman-is-Bruce-Wayne connection, and he had learnt to trust them.

“Is someone trying to warn us?” Tim voiced, “I get a lot of speculation from the public, about what my official superhero name is, but also where I came from, who I trained with. What if it’s not just the internet wondering?”

Bruce pursed his lips in thought. He turned to Tim, his eyes hard and determined in that certain manner that meant he was being overprotective.

“No,” Tim blurted, “I’m not staying at the Manor during that specific timeframe.” Bruce shut his mouth and blinked down at his adopted son.

“Whoever this is, they risk being found out if I don’t show up,” Tim gestured to the note, “It might just escalate from there, anyway, if we prolong whatever is supposed to happen.”

“It could be a trap,” Dick pointed out, and now he too had taken up the overprotective undertones of discomfort. Tim squared his shoulders and smiled reassuringly. “I’ll be fine,” he promised, “I’ll stay in the tower. Besides, all my teammates will be there. If anything happens, they’re right there.”

Bruce and Dick exchanged worried glances, but eventually Bruce sighed and clasped a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “Code Bat has always been for your safety,” Bruce stated firmly, “I don’t care if our enemies find out about us - if it gets out of hand, if it looks like a trap, call us.”

-

The morning of the date stated on the note, Tim found another one in his Teen Titans bedroom.

They want you dead. Play along.

What jolted Tim was the symbol at the bottom right corner of the note - it was one of the made-up symbols that Dick had taught him. The symbol on the note meant “burn after reading”.

The handwriting was not Dick’s, nor was it Bruce’s. It was cursive, almost like Alfred’s, but it was also much more scrawled and uneven, like someone still unpractised in writing. 

The gears in Tim’s brain must have really come unhinged this time, because the only name it could conjure was Jason. Jason was dead.

Tim was quietly uptight right until the hour came. He almost did not realise his teammates were being picked off, meticulously, skillfully, one by one. Almost.

Tim still had yet to press his emergency beacon. He had not activated Code Bat. He wanted to see where this went, before anything else.

Then the mysterious attacker descended on him, a blur of black and the smallest glimpse of white, and Tim was fighting for his life.

The man moved like an assassin - Tim had met some League of Assassins members, back when he had trained with Lady Shiva. He moved like them, but there was also something else to his movements.

Tim dodged a hit, and that was too short to be aiming for his throat, that would have been a non-lethal hit-

The man was not aiming to kill. He fought like Batman. He fought like one of them.

Tim opened his mouth, made to say something, although he was unsure what. He was swept off his feet before he got the chance.

“Who trained you, kid?” the voice growled, and it was a deep voice that should have unnerved him, but something struck him as familiar. The drawl, the barely-there accent.

Jason, his brain screamed.

Real answers, please, Tim pleaded.

The man pulled him by his tunic collar, and he shifted to pull him towards his face. There was a glint of metal on the man’s uniform - a recording device. 

“Who are you?” he growled again, with Tim pulled close. 

Tim got a good look at the man’s face, and while he instinctively bantered back, he was internally reeling. Looks like his gears were working, after all.

“Just a kid with a dream,” Tim smirked, a crooked smile already leaking some blood. 

Jason - because this man was Jason, somehow, how was Jason alive - interrogated Tim while punching him out. His blows hurt for sure, but Tim swore that he was aiming for the areas that would cause the least injuries. He swore that when he grunted as a rib was broken, Jason had paused minutely, cringing slightly, before he barreled on.

Something was placed on his chest. 

“Say goodnight, kid,” Jason sing-songed, and there was the sound of a gun cocking. Tim barely registered that when the gun shot, it had shot at him. There was the hard thump of something near his chest, just above his chest, but it had barely touched his tunic.

Jason tapped a finger-signal, a “stay low and don’t move”, and Tim remained where he was. He waited as footsteps receded, waited for several minutes, with a bag of fake blood leaking from his chest, bruises and other injuries blooming in pain underneath his uniform.

He felt rather than heard the presence appear beside him. The looming figure crouched down and gingerly maneuvered Tim into a firm grasp. 

His “assassin” stared down at him. He had switched out his black assassin get-up for casual clothing. He was… tall. Built like Bruce. His eyes were different, too, and he had a white lock of hair curling just above his eyebrows. Yet…

“Jason?” Tim croaked out, and Jason Todd smirked. Tim knew that smirk - Robin wore it a lot, when he watched him. “You better be damn glad no one can hear you, anymore,” Jason gruffed, and started moving with Tim in his grasp, “Let’s go somewhere else, though, for good measure.”

They ended up in Tim’s room - sound-proofed, and therefore the safest location in the tower for this conversation.

“You’re alive,” Tim blurted out, as Jason dressed his wounds. His hands stuttered before resuming their work. “I died,” Jason stated flatly, “And I dug myself out of my own grave. Talia found me, and threw me into a Lazarus Pit.”

Jason raised his eyes to meet Tim’s, and Tim could see the eerie green glow in his eyes. 

“Don’t tell Bruce about me,” Jason rushed out, and Tim immediately jumped to object, but Jason was faster, “Don’t. Listen, I-” Jason breathed deeply, “I’ve killed, alright? I’ve broken his big rule and all that jazz. I might still find myself going back to the streets of Gotham, but to the Manor? I’m not ready to face that shit.”

Jason paused for real this time, having finished taking care of Tim’s more visible injuries. He cringed. 

“You should get Alfie to check you out, just in case you have internal bleeding or whatever the fuck I gave you,” Jason waved his hand around uselessly, “Lie low for a few days, alright? I need to make myself scarce. They’ll find out I didn’t follow through with the deal, and I’ll need to have disappeared, by then.”

Tim was silent for a few long moments. “Will I see you again?” Tim finally asked, his eyes wide and hopeful, “They miss you, you know? We miss you. We all do.”

Jason swallowed, and blinked back the water gathering in his eyes. “How can you miss me?” he chose to ask, “S’not like you knew me very well, before… well, before.”

Tim grinned, bright and eager. 

“You once snuck out for patrol on your own,” Tim informed him, “And got stuck on a rooftop that you flipped onto with your grappling hook, because the other buildings around you were all too far away to grapple towards. You had to slide down the water pipes and run across an empty street to make your way back home.”

Jason sputtered, because that had happened, he did remember that, but when the heck did he hear about it?

“How the hell do you know that?” Jason asked, unable to keep his dismay from leaking into his voice. 

“I’ll tell you when I next see you,” Tim smiled cheekily. Smartass.

Jason checked the time. “Your Superboy buddy will be waking up soon,” Jason reported, “Don’t come looking for me, alright? I’ll… I’ll return to Gotham soon. I just have to make sure the League’s off my back.”

Jason got up and hesitated. “When I return to Gotham,” he warned, “I’ll come in guns blazing. There’ll be deaths. It won’t be pretty. Just- just stay out of my way.”

It would have been more convincing, if Jason had not spent the last thirty minutes treating Tim’s wounds.

“Who are you?” Tim called abruptly, Jason hovering at the door, “You come in and take us all out, one by one. They’d want a name. Who are you?”

Jason smirked sharply. 

“Red Hood,” he droned, “Call me Red Hood.”

He slinked away, and like a true Bat, was out of the tower in seconds.

[protectduffy]

Yandere Types (M)

warning!! this contains violence, controlling/manipulation, stalker themes, nsfw, etc. so don’t read if you’re not comfortable! this is the male edition of some yandere headcanons for the camp boahs

Arthur

- obsession type

- this is probably more intense than what both of you expected it to turn into

- it began with him accompanying you whenever you wanted to leave camp, but then he would get really antsy if he realises you’ve gone somewhere without him

- where did you go? Why didn’t you bring him? Who are you with?

- Arthur follows you, sometimes doing it very subtly and other times just falling into step behind you

- he asks a lot of questions

- high morality Arthur is sweeter, always being careful not to upset you with his questions

- takes pictures of you, though, and keeps them under his mattress

- casually breathes in your scent when you walk past

- more likely to stay out of sight when he’s following you

- if he’s low morality, Arthur is super obsessive, constantly walking with you with one hand on your body somewhere

- he snarls if another man so much as looks at you, antagonising them

- often gets into fights for your sake

- likes to pin your hands down or push you up against things

Dutch

- monopoly type

- the most obsessive

- he’s very manipulative, you’ve seen him at work before but never had you expected him to turn his act on you

- says things like, “I don’t like that boy, I want you to stop seeing him”, “Why are you going there when you can be here with me, darling?”, “Look at me when I’m talking, little girl/boy”

- even when you’re not aware of it, Dutch is there, always watching with that dark look in his eyes

- he slowly starts pushing any friends out of your life who aren’t approved by him, forcing you to depend on him

- he might even “dispose” of some of the people he views as competition, telling you they’ve left you and cradling you when you get upset

- if he absolutely cannot be with you, Dutch makes Micah watch you, but if Micah oversteps his boundaries, he has to brace himself for Pure Rage Dutch

- likes you to wear something of his so that other people know you’re claimed, including one of his rings, his hat, or his shirt

Hosea

- possessive-paranoid type

- the quickest to escalate

- similar to Arthur, Hosea is very much obsessed with you but on another level

- he has to have you all to himself

- unlike the other similar types, he is quite paranoid about losing you and it makes him more frantic

- he always has to have you close and scolds you if you try to leave

- won’t tolerate competition, he doesn’t even argue he just removes you from other people (be it by dragging you away or prompting you to leave, even feigning feeling sick so you’ll feel bad for him)

- is a bit insecure, but also a very god actor so he’s great at covering this up

- can switch his moods in an instant

- you aren’t allowed to go anywhere without him, and he always has to be touching you

Charles

- punishment-dominance type

- possibly the closest to John’s training type, but much more forceful and corrective

- Charles gives you firm reminders if you slip up, if you ignore him, and so on

- he always has to be in control of you, making sure he knows where you are and what you’re doing

- you have to make eye contact with him or he grasps your chin to make sure you look at him

- he isn’t satisfied with just touching you because he wants you to touch him, too, so he makes excuses as if he’s hurt or he’ll simply tell you what he wants

- if you disobey him, you’re in for a long night

- he isn’t above restraining you or spanking, and he won’t let you go until you apologise numerous times

- Charles is usually cool tempered, but the line is when another person touches you, at which point he’ll snap and attack to “defend” you

Javier

- worship type

- he’s so obsessed with you and any amount of attention you give him, even if brief

- worships you and will do anything you ask of him, no matter how ridiculous or dangerous the task is, sometimes without you even having to ask him

- least dangerous type, he wouldn’t hurt you even if it meant risking his progress

- instead, he focuses on luring you in with sweet words in his native tongue and purring compliments, reminding you how much he needs and loves you, what you do to him

- doesn’t really care if other people talk to you but if they don’t treat you with respect, Javier bristles and becomes aggressive to defend your honour

- would die for you in a hot second

- “I need you, don’t go, I love you!”

John

- training type

- it starts with gentle suggestions, trying to correct your behaviour to where he’s happier with how you feel about him

- sometimes snaps at you but then instantly softens, it’s like a switch is flicked between anger and gentleness

- John will always coo at you and embrace you after he’s snapped at you, gently stroking your hair and reassuring you he didn’t mean it

- he begins to get more forceful, prompting you to behave

- “Say you love me, y/n, come on, say it!”

- works on a reward basis, like training a dog

- “Good girl/boy! That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

- makes you think that it’s normal, the way he treats you, because he’s forcing you to adopt the loving behaviour towards him without you even realising his manipulation until it’s too late and you’re stuck in his web of deceit

- if someone else is viewed as competition in his eyes, John only threatens then when you’re not around so that he doesn’t ruin his progress with you

Sean

- restraints type

- he just wants to be with you! forever and ever and ever and ever

- can’t stand to be without you for just one second

- sometimes hides his fear of losing you behind humour and affection

- he grows in intensity very very quickly

- Sean will pick you up or drag you somewhere if you’re not obeying him, or if you try to leave him

- wants to be inseparable, why won’t you stay with him?

- he will tie your hands and/or feet so you can’t leave, or just so he can tease you and gaze upon you

- prefers to hold you down with his hands and body, but also enjoys a good length of rope

- also uses scarves for a bit of extra fun

Lenny

- dependence type

- knows how to get to your soft spot

- he insists he needs you and will beg if he has to so you won’t leave him

- enjoys faking being sick or getting himself scraped up so you will nurse him back to health

- he just bathes in your attention

- lots of pet names and sweet compliments, almost sickly sweet, and gets a bit whiny if you ignore him

- “I need you, can’t you see?! I can’t do this without you! It would ruin me!”

- tries to get sympathy from you or make you feel bad in any way so that you’ll consider staying

- if you do leave, he’ll go absolutely insane and probably go on a rampage just to get you back whatever the cost may be

Kieran

- wrong idea type

- Kieran is so into you from the moment he sets eyes upon you

- he’s smitten and convinced that you’re into him, unfortunately assuming that there’s something there where there actually isn’t

- watches you a lot

- if you smile at him, he gets all bashful and believes that you’re sending him signals

- if you touch him, oh, he loses his mind! 

- he has the bad habit of getting the wrong idea in the most innocent of acts

- drools if you wear anything that shows even a little bit of skin and will probably think that you’re wearing it just for him

- protective, too, he scowls and gets huffy if other men show you attention but he probably won’t act on it

- even if you flatly tell him you’re not interested, he thinks you’re playing a game or just lying for the sake of it

Eagle Flies

- deceptive type

- everything is behind the scenes with Eagle Flies, and he’s very good at what he does

- what he does, exactly, is manipulate and deceive you in subtle ways in order to gain your affections

- it starts off small, like loosing your horse so you’ll go on a walk alone with him to find it, and memorising your schedule for his benefit

- however, if you don’t respond soon enough for him, he becomes impatient

- you’re his to love, can’t you see that?

- he’ll definitely challenge anyone who he sees as a threat to his love for you

- he starts working harder to force you to care for him by making sure you can’t leave

- one afternoon when you were suggesting heading back to your home after a visit to Eagle Flies on his lands, he was quick to do anything he could to stop you

- he had one of his friends come crashing from the shrubbery claiming that there were dangerous soldiers nearby, which inevitably meant you had to stay with Eagle Flies to stay safe

- once, when you really insisted on having to get back, he disappeared into the forest and came back unbeknown to you with a fistful of yellow flowers

- mixed with water and offered as a drink to you, it doesn’t take long for the headache and weariness that washes over you

- feigning being surprised at your sudden “cold”, Eagle Flies makes sure to keep you on his bed of soft furs

- he’s so good at deceiving you that eventually you start to succumb to his caring nature and he relaxes, but he’s always just a little on edge, ready to find some new way to keep you all to himself

[staylovehearts]

Enough?

Lee Felix x Reader

Word Count ~3.9 k

Summary: You never wanted Felix to find out that the fans he loves so much can be so cruel.

Tags: angst, hate comments, self-doubts, Felix is an idol in this one, and you’re like his not so secret girlfriend, the company is chill but the fans aren’t, mentions of other stray kids members

It's a simple routine. As you unlock your phone you immediately swipe away about twenty different notifications from different social media accounts without even looking at them. You are not even sure why you even still bother with an Instagram and all of that. Maybe you should just go private again. Or delete everything. But that would feel like defeat. Like giving up. So instead you just try to not look at the mean words people are spouting at you on the daily. When it first started you still tried to report every single comment. Blocked every person who insulted you. But once the comments became too many to count you gave up on that as well.

But it's fine. Ignore them all. Swipe it away. Don't look at it. Focus on the nice comments. The people that spammed flame emojis under your recent Instagram selfie. The ones leaving nice comments and replies. Or at least those, that seem neutral. The ones that like to joke around or post memes. Damn, even the people that drop Loona fancams under your tweets are bearable.

But you can ignore them all for the sake of the one message that you actually want to read.

cuddly coala boy: are you going to be watching me later tonight?? i hope you're not mad that i had to cancel our skype date because of this :((

The text came at exactly 4:35 in the morning. Well, 4:35 in the morning in your timezone. That means for him it must have been... wait, what's the time difference again? Where even is he right now? You are too lazy to actually look up timezones right now to properly calculate the difference, but you decide to assume that it was a reasonable time. Well, at least you hope it was fairly reasonable. With the way his schedule works it's not unusual for him to send you messy texts full of typos past midnight when he is exhausted from a day of dance practice and vocal training and he just fell into bed after a quick shower and decided to send you a short text, already half asleep. It's also not rare for him to text you early in the morning. When he is on his way to his first schedule of the day. Early in the morning, but already buzzing with energy and excitement. Sometimes he'd send pictures of his breakfast and gush about the organic canteen. In summer he sent you a picture of the sunrise almost every morning. Because in summer the sun rises so early, that most people sleep through this daily spectacle of nature. But those that are woken up at five in the morning – even earlier on some days – never miss out on a sunrise. And you get to see those pictures of the sunrise in a different country, mostly after you've already missed the sunrise in your own location. Most of the pictures weren't even that special, some of them even too blurry to make out more than washed-out colours and the rough outlines of buildings. On some mornings the sky was too cloudy to show more than a lighter stripe of colour beneath a layer of grey and blue. But even on those days, Felix made it a point to show you the sunrise. And you have all of those pictures saved. Because you are just so goddamn whipped for this sunshine of a boy who sends you pictures of the actual sun every morning alongside a happy good morning text.

I'm not mad at all!! I know that work comes first, I'm sure we'll be able to make up for that skype date, have fun later, I might join when I have the time, but you know how the vlive times sometimes don't work with the timezones :/

It takes you a good fifteen minutes or so until you have finally typed up a reply that you are actually confident sending. You don't want to show that you are actually upset. You don't want to make him feel bad for having to cancel your plans. But it's probably obvious that you feel a little bitter about this. You were understanding the first few times this happened. And of course, you are still understanding. You knew that things would probably be like this. But it's becoming harder to hide your disappointment with every skype call that has to be moved to a different date. Every delayed reply. Every day that passes with just a few short messages being sent back and forth during water breaks.

But you know what you signed up for when you not only agreed on trying this long distance relationship, but trying it with an idol on top of the insane timezone difference.

Seeing the friendly kid you used to go to school with on television was already a weird experience. But finding out that he had become a K-Pop star felt like some kind of fever dream. To be completely honest you didn't even know what K-Pop was until you heard Felix – and his bandmate Chan – talk about it on national television. Your mother had called you downstairs in a frenzy to make you watch the special report. When you got there she was pointing at the screen excitedly, asking you over and over look, look, isn't this a boy you used to go to school with? Did you know that he's famous in Korea now? Isn't this crazy? You could certainly agree with her on that last question. To make a long story short, you spent pretty much the rest of that day – and most of the following week – researching every available bit of information about this K-Pop thing and the group your school friend was now part of. You listened to and downloaded their entire discography within one day. Watched every music video and memorised the member's faces within hours. And in the following days, you went through every vlive video and any other content you could find. Saying you were hooked would have been an understatement.

The thought of reaching out to Felix hadn't crossed your mind until maybe two weeks into your newly discovered obsession. It was a suggestion by a friend who you had a couple of courses together with. She had brought the idea up completely nonchalantly as if just hitting up a celebrity is a thing you do every other day. When you expressed that sentiment she just shrugged as if to say dunno, but weren't you friends with him?

Well, she wasn't really wrong about that. But she also wasn't really right. Sure, Felix and you went to school together. You had classes together for three years and you saw him pretty much every other day. But you were never super close to him. Felix was just that kind of person that everyone was on good terms with. He'd sit down at a different table at lunch every day, nerds and jocks were equally welcoming of him. Everyone likes having Felix around, but he wasn't insanely popular either. If someone would have asked about Felix the most common answer would have been something along the lines ah yeah, that guy, he's really nice, we don't really hang out outside of school though. That was just the kind of relationship almost everyone had with him, the kid you'd do group projects or share a lunch table with but not necessarily your first pick when you wanted to put together a group for karaoke that weekend. So Felix and you weren't really friends. You remember being in a group project with him once and for maybe a month or so he even was your lab partner until the seats were switched but that's pretty much it. Maybe you had a bit of a fleeting crush on him back then. Most girls had. The freckles dusting his cheeks and the big brown eyes gave him something adorable and his sunny personality matched that all too well. But back then as well you never considered acting on those feelings and years later you had almost completely forgotten about them altogether.

Tracking him down was hard, but easier than you thought it would be. Of course, the old phone number you managed to find in some inactive group chat didn't work anymore. And any social media you ever knew he had was deactivated. But somehow – through a friend of a friend of an acquaintance – you managed to get in contact with him again. And you immediately remembered what you had liked about Felix back then. Talking to him was as easy as ever. Somehow texting him didn't feel like talking to a celebrity, but just casually catching up with an old friend from school. Texting every once in a while turned into chatting almost daily. Then the phone calls started. Late-night rambling, one of you always tired from the time zone difference. The first face time call was an accident – at least that's what Felix told you – but the second wasn't. And neither was the twentieth. You've lost count at this point.

The status of your relationship with Felix has been a mystery to you for the longest time. It was clear to you that that little fleeting crush you used to have had come back at ten times the intensity and you were pretty sure that Felix must at least enjoy talking to you enough to stay up way past the time where he should go to sleep at. But even with mutual feelings, there were more than enough stones in your way. Him being a celebrity and the several hour time difference plus living in different countries are probably some of the most obvious trials.

Let's just say it worked... somehow. Is still working. Even if it's tough sometimes. You've seen Felix a total of three times since making it official and all of these were just for a couple of days at most. There's always schedules he has to attend, filming to be done. Your schedules don't match up at all, he has so little free time that you have no other choice than to arrange yourself around it. Make amends. Compromise.

That's not really the problem here. The official part of the whole making it official is actually the root of all evil. Surprisingly enough Felix's company actually allowed him to make an official statement regarding his relationship status and confirming that he was indeed seeing someone. Of course, you were never mentioned by name. But someone somewhere must have taken a picture of you and him meeting up that one time. And someone else must have somehow identified you on that picture and shared your Instagram. And twitter. And pretty much any other public social media you had at that point. All of that within an hour of the announcement being made. You never openly confirmed or denied any "rumours" - or maybe accusations is the more fitting term here – about you and Felix dating. But you didn't have to. They knew enough to hate you for "stealing" him away from them. Of course, not all of them hate you. Some are actually supportive of the relationship. Though that's definitely only because they support Felix and want to see him happy, not because anyone really cares about your hurt feelings here. Then there's also a couple of fans that just ignore the whole thing entirely. According to them, it's all just rumours and there is no way that Felix is actually seeing someone. Don't you know he's a sweet gay baby, uwu? He's actually dating [insert whoever they ship him with here]. At least these comments can be kind of entertaining to read. Sometimes. You've scrolled past entire think pieces and page-long analysis of the smallest interactions turned into super definite proof that there is more going on between those two band members behind the scenes. They are delusional, but at least they are mostly harmless.

And then there are people who just straight-up hate you. And maybe that group is not actually as big as it seems but they are loud. So goddamn loud. And they are mean. You have switched accounts, gone private, deleted and remade. Everything in a desperate attempt to hide from the comments. But they always find you somehow. There is no escape.

A new notification pops up on your phone, you try not to look at it as you delete it but you catch enough of a glimpse to get the gist of it.

You're not good enough... you don't deserve to be with him... you should just do him a favour and break up, he's probably just to nice to do it himself.

It's always the same, you've read it hundreds of times, in every possible phrasing and variation. The bad thing though, you're starting to believe that they might actually be right.

The vlive is happening around noon in your time, which is at least kind of reasonable compared to other times that you have set an alarm to watch some kind of stream or award show or anything similar. You actually don't really want to watch, at least not for your own entertainment. Watching these things for yourself has kind of stopped working after... well yeah, after all that's going on. But you know that Felix would be happy, knowing that you are watching him. So maybe you'll tune in for a bit during your lunch break. Just long enough to take a screenshot and send it to him alongside a short text telling him that you are watching the live and that you really aren't mad. You aren't mad. Just scared.

You click the notification as soon as it appears on your phone. One of the few notifications you are actually happy to receive. The app takes a moment to load and by the time the stream is actually playing it's already flooded with viewers. But the picture is not moving. Or at least the three boys in the frame aren't moving. But you notice something in the background, maybe some kind of curtain, being moved by a breeze. Still, the trio keeps up their game for another few seconds until they all break out into wide grins and start talking. Felix is sitting in the middle, wedged in between Jisung and Hyunjin. The three of them are sitting behind a table that has various playthings scattered on the polished hardwood surface. You spot a box filled with Jenga pieces, next to a card game and a rubik’s cube. You take a couple of screenshots and tap out to send one of them to Felix, of course he won't see it right now but you want to prove that you were actually watching live. When you open the stream again they are already building up the Jenga tower while joking around with each other. Even though you didn't plan to stick around you watch them play games and talk for a while. It's nice. You can almost imagine yourself sitting in a room with them, laughing, cracking jokes and enjoying yourself. You can almost imagine being this close to Felix. Both physically close enough to be in a room with him as well as close enough for him to introduce you to his friends and be allowed to hang out with the group. It's almost in your reach. Almost perfect. Almost.

Felix is messing with the rubik’s cube, trying to solve it after he has insisted for minutes that he knows how it's done, Hyunjin is stopping the time on his phone while Jisung is going through the comments. You yourself haven't dared to take a look at them yet. Even here you aren't save. Most of the time they are flying by so fast that you can't even finish reading one before the next one jumps into vision.

Where is-

can you say hi to-

omg i-

notice me ple-

Most of it is short comments like this, some are just emojis (mostly every different kind of heart there is), wild key smashing and a plethora of "i love you"s in different languages. But some stick out. Some are different. The username is the first thing you notice about that one specific comment.

felix's_girlfriend

When you first made your account you thought about claiming that name for yourself. Just as a joke. But it was already taken. And so was felix's_wife, ilovefelix, freckleslover or any other possibility you could think of. Even when you started adding numbers to the names you couldn't get them. There are at least fifteen people using some variation on Felix's girlfriend as their username. You stopped trying after that.

Jisung probably spots the comment about at the same time as you did.

"Yo, someone with the username felix's_girlfriend just asked when you will finally do a dance cover of the latest Twice song", he says. Or at least something along the lines. You practised Korean to be able to at least get the gist of what's going on when they are talking, but you can't always understand everything. But you sure do understand the way Felix's head just whips up. Like that of a puppy delighted to see its owner coming back home.

"She's watching?", he asks. This time you understand clearly. Jisung looks back at him for a moment, a mixture of shock and surprise on his face. Felix isn't supposed to talk about you. Not here.

"It's just that person's username", he answers, after a moment of silence. Felix's bright smile drops for a moment, but then he nods his head and laughs as if someone just made an amazing joke. The boys continue talking about the Twice comeback and other promotions that are currently going on as if nothing happened. Hyunjin rambles about Got7 while Jisung jokes about how Seungmin is probably really excited about Day6. But the people in the comments are not willing to let go of what happened quite as easily.

I hope that bitch just disappears someone writes. Felix should break up with her, she's not good enough. You can't pretend to not notice it any longer. And maybe the boys noticed too, at least they don't read out any other comments after that one. But you don't really stick around for that long after. You are clearly not welcome here.

The thing is, that you never wanted to drag Felix into this mess. Of course, he is already a part of it, but you didn't want to let him see all of the ugly things that they are saying about you two. Well, in the end it's mostly you they are mad at. Some fans have commented that they are mad or disappointed that Felix would date someone, but they don't say the same things about him that they say about you. And you're glad. You wouldn't wish this on anyone. Especially not Felix, who is always so bright and full of love for his fans. You know that he loves that. He's said it numerous times. And even when he doesn't say it with words, it's obvious. He says it with the way he always smiles and waves at the camera, with all that he pours into performances, with the energy and passion he gives. He loves them.

Felix has never said the l-word to you.

Your phone rings about three hours later. You are hesitant to pick up when you see his name light up on the screen, but you don't want to lead him to believe that you are mad at him or anything.

"Hey there, why are you calling? Isn't it the middle of the night where you are?" You try to make your voice sound cheerful. Like you are a little surprised that he is calling you at that time but all in all happy that he is calling you. Confused, but a pleasant kind of surprise. You're probably not all that convincing, but maybe it's enough since this is just a phone call. Not even video this time.

"Ah, I just wanted to check in on you", Felix replies. His voice sounds a little bit drowsy. A soft kind of deep rumble. Bedroom voice, but not the sexy kind. The soft I'm about to curl up and fall asleep voice. You've heard that before, fell asleep to that soft voice talking to you over the phone. For a moment you almost crack. You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes, but you blink them away quickly.

"Oh, I'm fine, just got back home a while ago, going to make myself some food soon. How was your day, did that live go well?"

"Hmm, did you watch it?"

"Oh, just for a bit. I was... busy." Somehow you feel guilty saying it like that. Sure, you did only watch maybe about half of it. You told him in advance that you probably wouldn't watch the whole thing. But you have a feeling that there is a reason he is asking. And you are purposely avoiding it. Felix stays silent for a moment, maybe hesitant to bring it up himself. And for a moment you hope that he just won't. That you can both pretend that everything is alright and just joke around like usual. When he finally does speak his voice sounds so sad.

"There were some... not so nice comments about you. Did you see them?"

You consider lying but you don't see the point in it. He probably knows that you have seen them.

"Yeah."

"Do they often say things like that to you?"

"... yeah."

"That's... awful. I'm so sorry."

You take a deep breath. You really never wanted him to find out about how cruel the fans he loves so much can really get. Of course he knew that not everyone approved of him having a relationship and of course he's seen some of the gossip articles that the tabloids write about you. But what the fans say behind the protection of anonymity is so much worse than that.

"It's not your fault", you mutter finally. You can hear Felix take a deep breath as well.

"You don't- you don't believe what they say, do you? You know that I would never break up with you just like that. You are enough. More than I could ever ask for."

You aggressively blink your eyes a couple of times and tilt back your head. You don't want to cry. It always becomes obvious in your voice when you start crying and you really don't want to worry him any more.

"I know, but it's nice to hear. Thank you."

There's noises in the background. Some loud clatter, like dishes falling over and then several voices talking over each other. You haven't thought about it yet but Felix must be calling you from the dorm. There is the sound of a door being opened, a little noise of surprise and then it's being shut close again. Probably someone looking for Felix.

"You should probably hang up soon", you mumble. Not because you want him to, but because you know that the longer this goes on the harder it will be for you to not burst into tears.

"I guess. I'll call you again tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah, I'd like that very much."

"Great then... good night."

"Goodnight."

"Hey, (y/n), I love you."

"I love you too, Felix."

[charlottedabookworm]

Ulric Brothers

I know it’s not one of your recent ideas, but I’ve been watching FMA and had some Thoughts.

- Prompto adores soft things. Soft fluffy blankets, scarves, cuddly toys. 

Prompto likes touching things, exploring with his hands. He’s constantly fidgeting with one thing or another, absently running his hand over something or clutching onto whatever he’s holding. Usually his camera.

He’s a very tactile person in pretty much every way, and adores cuddles. Nyx isn’t sure if it’s from the lack in his first or second childhood, but he makes sure to be very tactile in return- never patting his shoulder when he can just as easily pull him into a quick hug.

-Prompto still has a journal full of food, but it’s not a wish list. It’s more of a food diary, recording what he’s eaten, what he liked about it, where and who. Sort of a diary, but for mealtimes.

-This is partly because sometimes he forgets about food. The diary is a way to check if he’s eaten, and to remind him he needs to eat. But also because he still has nightmares where he can’t feel, trapped in lifeless metal. Existing, not living. The diary would make it easier to remember, recording as many memory triggers as possible. The camera helps too.

-He’s still weak for kittens. Nyx finds himself sighing a lot. It’s a running joke in the glaive that if you know anyone who wants a cat, tell them to find Ulric.

-Nyx is both overprotective and laid back as the adult brother. His friends are a bit bemused, he has his brother’s schedule and likely locations at any given time memorised, and the one time he had to work when Prompto was sick had an entire folder of information for the off duty Crowe, who agreed to check in on the kid. That folder would not have been out of place being given to the Prince’s minders. It included recipes of his favourite foods, his proficiency with various weapons, and a long list of contacts just in case. 

But he still has total faith in Prompto’s life choices/intelligence. Even knowing the years between them now, he remembers Al was less than two years younger than Ed. He’ll be an awesome guardian, as much as his job allows, but he has a kind of faith in Prompto that freaks people out sometimes.

Like, they ask what Prompto’s doing for school, and Nyx answers with the name of two of the best schools in the city, which happen to be incredibly expensive. He doesn’t even think the scholarships he’s applying for should be mentioned, because Prompto is driven, intelligent and His Little Brother, he assumes it’s a given? That Prompto will get the scholarships?

-He’s both proud and slightly bewildered at Prompto’s mechanical skills. Nyx doesn’t realise how adept he is with machinery, in his head he still considers that Winry or Fuery’s thing.

-Nyx’s paranoid, and he’s not sure which lifetime makes it worse. He trains Prompto in combat. They have maps of potential fallback points if the city falls, or if they have government kill orders on their heads. Escape routes drawn up. Contacts. Places to go for resources. Several potential tools on them at all times. He also once took a holiday outside the wall to teach Prompto wilderness survival skills. (Which was An Event that they thankfully weren’t included in all the official reports about, but was still oddly reminiscent of travelling Amestris in terms of running into Things Going Wrong)

- They both find it hilarious when their brother ‘reveals’ their genius. They don’t really hide it, they’re just not showing it off or in careers where academic knowledge really counts. But it’s funny when they join in a conversation people assume is over their heads and see the faces.

-Prompto sometimes joins Nyx in the library- with permission from the relevant departments of course. He shocks Noctis, Gladio and Ignis when he casually disagrees with something one of them says about magic, quoting a text from the library to support it, and expects them to either explain why he’s wrong or admit he has a point.

-If they ever run into Cindy they’re oddly wistful at first. But the differences make themselves apparent quickly.

-Even if he’s not a Chosen, Prompto refers to Ramuh as his grandfather.

[taehyungiejiminie95]

6 Bullets: Chapter 01

Warnings: Death, violence, blood, suicide, deception, sexual harassment, swearing, angst

You come home after 5 years in America, but what you find is not what you expect.

Word count: 4989

My hand hits the desk in anger and even the biggest of the new recruits jumps back in fear. I can feel my lips curl back into a snarl and I have to physically make it stop. Looking over the small line, I realise how screwed I am. My sister is getting here in 3 days and they’re just not ready. If I’d had even a month - no, two weeks! - more notice, I could’ve done better. I could’ve found a different house to say I lived in, I could’ve hired better men and I could’ve finished the deal before she got here. I can’t do that all in the same day. My hands are tied and I don’t have a choice. I dismiss the men in the line and tell them all to leave but one. I beckon a raven-haired man forward and sit on the side of my desk that’s closer to him,

“Jeon, right?” I ask. It may be a little cold but I’m at my wit’s end here and I don’t have the patience for formalities. In my head I can hear the seconds ticking by, every moment closer to throwing her into this mess. I never wanted this. Especially when I was so close to leaving. The recruit nods to indicate my correct naming of him and I crack a smile. I can practically read the wariness in his eyes. That’s good. He should always be on alert,

“You’re in. I need to call two more men, and briefing is in three hours. Understood?” I state a little blunter than necessary. But does it really matter? He needs to understand that this isn’t a game and he’s not here to make friends. He’s here for a reason. With that statement I dismiss him with a wave of my hand and tell him to send the other 5 recruits home. They’re useless anyway. The man - I must remind myself of his first name soon - turns on his heel and walks away quickly, obviously hiding some sense of pride. How little he knows. This lifestyle is nothing to be proud of. I sigh as I pick up the phone on my desk and tap in a number I’ve had memorised for ages. They pick up in 3 rings like always and answer with the same greeting they’ve been using since I met them,

“Kim Namjoon speaking. What’s the problem?” His gravelly voice comes down the phone like a wave of relief and I can feel the tension flood out of my body almost instantly,

“It’s Seokjin. I need you and Jimin. Can you be here in three hours?”

“Yes.” Is all I hear before the line goes dead. I stand up from my desk and straighten my shirt. I should’ve called them first rather than messing around with new recruits. 3 days is more than enough to train up Jeon if I have Namjoon and Jimin. She’ll be safe in the hands of our old business partners and - more importantly - our friends.

~~~ 

You take a deep breath in as you step off of the plane, and onto the floor of the airport. You’re finally back. After 5 years of living in America, you’d finally managed to convince your auntie to let you come home. The second she gave the okay, you set about getting yourself ready. That was 5 days ago. Sure, your brother Seokjin didn’t sound best pleased by your announcement that came with no warning, but you just knew that he’d be glad to have you back. He’d sent you away 5 years ago, and you’d barely had any contact. If you were totally honest, you harboured a little resentment over that, but you understood why. It was your parent’s death. It screwed him up badly and even if he acted like it didn’t matter, you knew it did. He was the one who had found them shot to bits.

But that didn’t matter. You’re here to reconnect with your brother, not get hung up on the past. You turn your phone on and smile at the text that comes in immediately - it’s from Namjoon. He’d kept quite regular contact with you, and he’s really the big brother that Jin isn’t. It’s not that Jin doesn’t care, it’s just that he’s a hard worker - at least, that’s what Namjoon always told you when you asked after him. But Namjoon never told you what Jin was working hard at. He just breezed over the question in the way only Namjoon can, telling you that it’s just the ‘family business’ and ‘nothing to worry about’. Quite frankly, you never really took an interest until Jin actually instigated contact for the first time in ages, asking if you could push off coming home until he’s finalised a few deals. ‘Only a few days’ he had said. It seemed reasonable enough, but you didn’t see the problem. But again, it doesn’t matter. You’re here now, and you’re going to find Jin once you find the person sent to drive you home.

“HEY!!” You hear, followed by a heavy form crashing into you clumsily, “I missed you!” The form yells, picking you up into strong arms and hugging you tight. You struggle for breath and find yourself in a bit of a panic until you look down into the smiling eyes gazing up at you - Namjoon. He puts you down as he grins, dimples dazzling any person looking over at the two of you. He’s changed a lot since you last saw him. For one, he’s taller now and a lot broader. His arms look toned and muscular from what you can see under his white shirt. He’s wearing what you’d call business casual - formal trousers and shoes with a white shirt, but undone partway with the sleeves rolled up neatly - and he’s already holding your luggage in the hand he hadn’t used to pick you up. He’d also dyed his hair. Last time you saw him, he’d looked a little nerdy. His hair was usually stuck flat against his forehead but it was now platinum blond and shaved at the sides, styled up in wave. Your eyes take in the man before you and you barely recognise him as the person you consider your older brother.

“I missed you too, Joonie,” You reply sweetly, leaning up to wrap your hands around his neck, “Could Jin not make it?” You add after a bit of thought, trying to swallow the lump in your throat when Namjoon launches into what sounds like a very rehearsed excuse about a busy schedule. Busy schedule your ass! You’re his little sister, and he hasn’t seen you in years! You can feel your bottom lip quiver and you try to excuse yourself to the bathroom for a moment, but Namjoon frowns slightly and objects,

“I’d feel better if you went with someone. You never know what could happen to you in a huge place like this. There’s all kinds of weirdos wandering around. Jin sent me and a new worker he recently hired. Will you please let him wait outside?” Namjoon pleads, the red shade of embarrassment creeping up his neck at even the prospect of offering you an escort to the toilet. You don’t say anything in response, just nodding your head before trudging off to the bathroom. Waiting around for an escort will only make you feel worse, so you head straight in. Does Jin really care so little that he’ll just send a new worker to come pick you up? Someone he’s probably not even learned the name of. You look at yourself in the mirror over the sink and sigh. The bags under your eyes are showing and you look a little pale, but it’ll have to do. Blinking back tears, you exit the bathroom hastily, only to crash into who you assume to be your escort.

“Sorry,” You mutter, slowly bringing your eyes up his body and to his face. He’s quite tall - probably the same height as Namjoon - and he’s wearing what you guess to be all leather, down to his face mask. His shoulders are quiet broad and his hair and eyes are as dark as each other. He has a gentle kind of face, but the kind that seems just a little too old for him. The boy (you don’t want to say man because he looks only about your age) shakes his head slightly in response and offers you his arm. You smile thinly and take it nervously, wondering where someone would pick up on such an old- fashioned gesture nowadays. You’re guided back to Namjoon quickly, where you let go of the boy’s arm and walk with Namjoon. Unsettled doesn’t even begin to describe how you’re feeling. First, Jin won’t tell you what he does for a living. Now, he’s sending some shady guy to pick you up from the airport. You don’t know what’s coming next, but you aren’t excited for it.

~~~

Namjoon sits in the back of the black 4x4 as the other boy drives. He neglected to share his name, and Namjoon refuses to, insisting that Jin will give introductions when you get back to the house. You spend the two hour journey catching up with Namjoon, telling him everything that had happened since you last spoke with him a few weeks ago. He listens well, but you can tell that he’s a little distracted by the way he looks out of the back window every few minutes. By now, you know better than to question him, and assume that he’s just a little jumpy.

You can see the house you’re heading to from quite a way back. Your father was a business man, and amassed quite the empire over the years. When his estate was handed over to Jin, you learned that he kept a huge mansion, and Jin told you that’s where he would train new employees, so he could be sure they’d do their jobs right. You were told it was a big place, but you never realised it was so grand. You enter through large security gates, manned by several men dressed in black body armour, and find yourself greeted quite warmly by people you had never met before - although Namjoon doesn’t seem so fond of this and promptly rolls up the tinted windows up when one of them leans in to talk to you. His jaw clenches as the unnamed man drives slowly up the straight gravel path. The grass either side of stretches for a long time, and it’s all neatly trimmed and emerald green. As you get closer to the large building, you see small groups of people dotted around, all dressed in grey sweatpants and black tank tops. Some are just sitting and talking, some are running and some are doing push ups, but the large majority are walking towards a grey concrete housing unit (well, what you assume to be a housing unit) that’s smaller than the mansion, yet still much larger than a normal house.

You find yourself gawking up at the main attraction of the landscape as the car pulls to a halt, and almost miss Namjoon’s voice telling you to wait in the car for a moment - but you do see him jog up to the front door, knock three times and step back to wait for a response. Your eyes wander across the space in front of the mansion. It’s largely gravelled, but it has some outdoor seating and a grand fountain about 50 metres from where Namjoon’s stood. It must be 10 metres wide at least, and the clear water shoots up from the hand of a golden statue. You can’t quite make out what it is exactly from where you are, but it looks to resemble some sort of animal,

“I don’t know what the fountain’s statue is supposed to be either,” You hear, and jump in your seat as you turn around to see the nameless man watching you in the rear view mirror. His eyes seem to dance under your gaze, almost like he’s smiling under his mask, “But I suggest you ask Mr. Kim. He’s been around longer than me,” He adds with a shrug. You snort as you turn back around to look out of the window. Namjoon’s walking back towards the car, with a shorter man in tow. This new man stops about a few metres short of the car, but Namjoon walks right up and opens your door for you, offering you his hand so that you can climb out as gracefully as possible. You thank him with a smile as you go to grab your bags, but Namjoon stops you with a tap on your arm,

“Don’t be silly, I’ll get your stuff. Go see that man - he’s missed you,” Namjoon tells you, his dimples on full show as he turns to go to the back of the car. You walk over to where the man has stopped, a little cautious as you’re not sure who it is. As you get closer, a wide smile spreads across your face and you run towards the figure, who has his arms out for you already,

“Jimin!” You yell as you jump into his arms, feeling the man who was as much of a brother to you as Namjoon was when you were growing up wrap his arms around you as he laughs. You wrinkle your nose when you realise that he still wears that God-awful cologne that you hate. It makes him smell like an old person,

“Hey, short stuff,” Jimin teases, setting you down as you smack his chest, wishing you were taller than him, “Jin’s waiting for you in the main office, but he’s going to need a minute. He suggested I show you to your room. Is that okay?” He asks, smiling widely and offering you his arm when you nod. Jimin guides you through the huge oak doors and into a large hallway space. It’s a little empty, but Jimin explains that neither Jin nor your father ever saw much point in decorating the ground floor of the mansion. It’s just a training area, so why bother making it pretty when it could just end up broken? You saw your father’s old logic in that, so nodded in understanding as Jimin led you up three flights of stairs, to what he called the ‘bedroom floor’. He goes on to explain that everything is kitted out for weekend training courses in the other building you saw, but these rooms are for the higher ranking employees. Jimin also tells you that Jin had a room renovated entirely in just one day to prepare it for you. You’re not given long to look around, because Jimin tells you that he wants to get you to Jin’s office at 4 o’clock precisely, like he was asked to.

You have just enough time to look over the silk bedsheets and velvet curtains before Jimin’s pulling you out again. Holding onto his arm like before, you walk up the next flight of stairs and Jimin tells you to wait on the top step while he speaks to a man dressed in a nice suit in hushed tones. You’re looking over a painting hung beside you, but you suddenly hear a panicked curse word fall from Jimin’s lips, and suddenly he’s got a vice-like grip on your arm and he’s tugging you back down the stairs,

“Jin’s not ready, my watch is off by 2 minutes. We need to go back to your room,” Jimin tells you hurriedly, nearly running as he tugs your reluctant body back down the stairs. He huffs slightly and goes to pick you up, but then stiffens. The man in the suit had been stood in front of a large white door with a fingerprint lock where a door handle should have been, and that door just opened. Jimin’s fingers tighten impossibly on your arm and you whimper, trying to get away. But Jimin isn’t having any of it. You see his jaw clench and his biceps ripple as he nearly shoves you down the last few steps. He has his hand on a closest door handle when a chilling voice speaks from the top of the staircase you had just descended,

“Woah there, why don’t you let the pretty lady say hey?” The voice says, followed by a hollow laugh that sends shivers straight down your spine. You’re frozen in place, but Jimin springs into action, pushing you behind him as he stands up a little straighter. For once, you’re glad he’s taller. You don’t know why, but something in that voice screams danger, and you don’t really want to find out if you’re right. He sounds manic. Like the over-exaggerated villains in the sci-fi shows you used to watch when you were little, but more real. More terrifying,

“She’s a little shy,” Jimin nearly growls back, and your eyes widen in shock. You’ve never heard Jimin so aggressive in your life. He’d cuddled with you every night for three weeks after you lost your parents. It’s hard to believe the man who held you as you both sobbed was the same one standing in between you and the new person now. For a few moments, nobody says anything. You nearly think the man’s gone, but when you peer out from behind Jimin, you realise he’s not. You’re met with dark eyes that seem to stare right through you, so dark they’re nearly black, and containing no warmth whatsoever. The man has dark brown hair that’s parted to the side, and he’s dressed in all white, save for a black bandana around his neck, which he pulls up to cover his face once he shoots you a smile that’s all teeth, no happiness. He beckons to the two men flanking him and barges past Jimin, who barely moves. The man doesn’t turn back as he walks away, but says loud enough to be heard through his bandana,

“Remember this sweetheart, we never forget faces,”

~~~

You jump slightly in your seat as you hear your brother’s angry voice from down the hall. Once that man had left, Jimin had taken you straight through the security door, and told you stay put. Namjoon had come in shortly after, but hadn’t even spared you a smile as he hurried into what you assume is the ‘main office’. The person by the door - the man in the suit, as he is now aptly named in your mind - had followed Namjoon’s route a few minutes later. So far, no one has come out, and you’re sat impatiently where Jimin left you. You can’t hear any individual words, but Jin doesn’t sound happy. If you weren’t so shaken from earlier, you’d be pressing your ear against the door right now. But the way that man had scared you with just a few words was so new to you, and you don’t know how to react. The way Jimin had defended you had thrown you off, as well. What kind of business is your brother running?

You’re playing with your fingers as the man in the suit comes out of the main office. He stops in front of you, murmuring that you can go in now. You then stand up nervously, legs shaking as you step towards the door you’d seen Namjoon and Jimin enter. Part of you is scared about the happenings of that day, but part of you is just scared to see your brother. It’s been so long, but you know you won’t have time for the family reunion you’d wanted. You have too many questions.

The room you enter is very large. The back of it is a taken up by a glass window, and the flooring is a luxurious white carpet that extends half a metre up the wall before changing to a beige wall paper that compliments the simple colours of the room. A black leather couch sits against the length of the left-most wall, and is opposite a large cabinet. The first quarter is glass, and filled with books and various other ornaments, but the rest of it is opaque, the right-most part seeming to be locked like the door that the man in the suit had been standing in front of. Your eyes gradually move to the large desk at the back of the room, which is covered in large stacks of paperwork, and has a large PC on it, with three screens. Sat against the desk is who you assume is your brother - although you barely recognise him. He’s grown up a lot in the last 5 years, and he’s dressed in a fine suit, hands in his pockets as he watches you closely. When your eyes meet, he stands up awkwardly and clears his throat,

“Welcome home?” Jin says, posing it almost as a question due to his uncertainty of the situation. Even though you want nothing more than to run into your brother and hug him and catch up for the last 5 years you missed out on, it’s clear that’s not going to happen. Instead, you feel 5 years of resentment build up, and it doubles when you look at the two men who had spoken to you more than your actual brother in that time. Your eyes fill with tears as you turn to Jin, and nearly spit your words,

“That’s all you have to say after 5 years? Welcome home? Kim Seokjin, those two men there have spoken to me at least once a month since I left. Where have you been? Also, why don’t I know anything? Why can’t they tell me what you do here? And who was that man in the hallway who saw me? Why are you hiding everything from me?!” You scream, no longer able to hold it in. You hear Jimin whistle lowly and tug at Namjoon’s arms, gesturing to the door. They both move to leave, but Namjoon pauses at the door, turning back to Jin, who’s face is burning with embarrassment,

“I suggest you come clean. You may not have seen what’s hidden there, but I do. She’d be good in discipline. Better than Jimin. Tell here everything,” Namjoon says. You turn around to address the seemingly cryptic message, but the door clicks shut and you’re left alone with Jin. Your brother, who now only feels like a stranger. Your jaw clenches as you turn back around, crossing your arms as you wait for his answer. Jin sighs and stands up, rubbing his hands over his face. He walks slowly to the large cabinet, opening the first of the opaque doors. You walk closer and see a series of pictures. They’re all of your mother or your father, shaking hands with various people, or in front of different buildings. You smile fondly to yourself as you remember how you travelled a lot,

“Dad started a business some 15 years before I was born. It was an innocent business, just a coffee shop. He made the best coffee in town, and things went well for about 5 years. But one day, our mother walked in and changed that. They fell in love before they realised what could happen as a result,” Jin starts, and you let your eyes pass over one of the oldest pictures there. Your parents loved to tell the story of how they met. You can feel yourself start to choke up the way you do anytime you think about them being gone,

“That’s them there, right? They look so young and happy,” You note, pointing to the picture that you were looking at. Jin smiles and nods, pulling it down to take a closer look. His smile drops as he continues,

“It turns out that mum was running from some murder charges a few countries away. She was running, but she somehow got caught up with dad. They fell in love, and she got pregnant. Then the cops came. Dad wouldn’t let her go, so he made some deals and offered a few favours. 3 months later, he wakes up and realises that he’s in the mafia,” Jin tells you. He doesn’t even look at you as he tears down your views of your parents,

“Mum wasn’t a murderer,” You tell Jin firmly, hating that he’s saying these things. Your voice is rough from unshed tears and anger simmering just below the surface. Under that is raw pain, and the shock that comes with being told things like that. Even as you say it, you know it’s pointless. Jin’s eyes shine with tears, but he sounds almost robotic as he continues,

“So the story goes from there. Dad’s in the mafia to protect mum, and then he’s in it to protect me. Then you. He was a great father, but an even better leader, as I’ve come to learn. The night we lost them…” Jin pauses, face turning away from you even more. His voice shakes as he continues, “The night we lost them, it wasn’t a freak shooting like I told you. They were killed. Dad had become too big and too dangerous, so a rival gang took the lives of him and his beloved wife,” Jin’s voice trails out here, and you can’t help but notice how his shoulders shake,

“It’s okay, Jin. I miss them too,” You whisper, scared that if you spoke any louder, it would betray your tears. Reliving your parent’s death like this is painful, stabbing your heart in a dull mockery of how you felt when it first happened. You never knew how much Jin had on his shoulders until he told you this,

“I sent you out of the country so the same thing wouldn’t happen to you. There was a note left on one of the tables, and it said that we were next on the list. Since then, I’ve been working hard to take out the bastards responsible,” Jin finishes, with a strong tone. You’ve always admired how quickly he’s able to get a hold of himself. He opens the next door, and reveals to you a mess of photos, maps and drawings all pinned onto a cork board like in crime shows where there’s an old case that hasn’t been solved,

“What the fuck?” You whisper, stumbling back as you take it all in. Your brother must be crazy. That’s the only possible explanation in your head as you try to wrap your brain around all the information coming at you. You decide that you don’t want to believe this at all, no matter how much sense it makes deep down. You almost try to run out of the door before Jin’s gathering you up into an awkward kind of hug. There’s a sneaking suspicion in your mind that maybe this hug isn’t just for you,

“Please, just calm down. I can explain more later. But for now, I need to meet with some staff. The other man who picked you up from the airport will escort you to your room after I introduce you, and he will wait with you,” Jin pulls back and moves over to the desk, picking up the phone and speaking into it for a moment. You sigh as you see Jin’s emotional walls go back up. You thought that maybe you’d finally get to talk about things, but the hope is beaten down as quickly as it blooms.

About 10 seconds pass before the door opens, and the boy from earlier steps in and walks up to Jin, shaking his hand firmly,

“This is Jeon Jungkook. He’s a new recruit, but he’s very able. He’ll protect you for now. Don’t ask him questions. The man who you saw was Jung Hoseok. I can explain his role in all of this after briefing my staff. I may be a while, but we’ll talk over dinner. Jeon, take her to her room,” Jin states, barely looking at you as he types on his computer, dismissing you with a wave of his hand. The boy - Jungkook, apparently - offers you his arm again, but you scoff, ego wounded by Jin’s sudden business-like treatment of you.  You stomp out of the room angrily, glaring at the line of men waiting outside the room.

~~~

Once you reach your room, you lay on the bed and stare at the ceiling, thoroughly annoyed. You hear the door click shut but pay ‘Jungkook’ no attention until he sits on the edge of your bed. At this, you sit up and stare at him in shock,

“What are you doing on my bed? There’s a perfectly good couch over there for you to use,” You inform him, rolling your eyes at his rude assumption that he’d be welcome on your bed. Jungkook stands up and looks at you with one eyebrow raised. You roll your eyes again and point at the white couch in the far corner, like he didn’t understand what you said. His expression suddenly changes, looking at you like a wounded puppy, before grinning,

“I don’t think so. Your brother may be the Big Boss, but I’m protecting you. I deem it necessary to be within 5 feet of you at all time,” He retorts, flopping himself onto your bed decidedly. You let out a frustrated sound and march over the couch yourself, only for him to follow you. As he walks over, you notice a slight limp in his step. You look away, but suddenly sit up straight and look again. The boy’s face suddenly strikes you as familiar, and the limp only helps you to identify him in your memories,

“I saw you when I was in America! You used to live in the apartment next to me!”