#which already has them in panic mode

[hypewinter]

Right so what if Danny became a psychologist instead of Jazz?

His friends and family died protecting him. So when he runs away and starts a new life, he adopts traits from all of them (both as a way of grieving and a way to honor them). For Tucker and Sam, Danny splits his free time between being a white hat hacker and a vocal environmental activist. For his parents, he adopts more of their eccentric personality. When he's not in a professional setting, he is loud and in your face about the latest thing he's been working on (he's also just about the most loyal person you can meet).

And for Jazz, his precious big sister, Danny decides to excel in the career path she never got the chance to enter. He resolves to fulfill her goal of helping out those society has deemed irredeemable. The ones nobody else can or wants to help. The first one he starts with, is the Joker.

[wordstome]

how c.ai works and why it's unethical

Okay, since the AI discourse is happening again, I want to make this very clear, because a few weeks ago I had to explain to a (well meaning) person in the community how AI works. I'm going to be addressing people who are maybe younger or aren't familiar with the latest type of "AI", not people who purposely devalue the work of creatives and/or are shills.

The name "Artificial Intelligence" is a bit misleading when it comes to things like AI chatbots. When you think of AI, you think of a robot, and you might think that by making a chatbot you're simply programming a robot to talk about something you want them to talk about, and it's similar to an rp partner. But with current technology, that's not how AI works. For a breakdown on how AI is programmed, CGP grey made a great video about this several years ago (he updated the title and thumbnail recently)

I HIGHLY HIGHLY recommend you watch this because CGP Grey is good at explaining, but the tl;dr for this post is this: bots are made with a metric shit-ton of data. In C.AI's case, the data is writing. Stolen writing, usually scraped fanfiction.

How do we know chatbots are stealing from fanfiction writers? It knows what omegaverse is [SOURCE] (it's a Wired article, put it in incognito mode if it won't let you read it), and when a Reddit user asked a chatbot to write a story about "Steve", it automatically wrote about characters named "Bucky" and "Tony" [SOURCE].

I also said this in the tags of a previous reblog, but when you're talking to C.AI bots, it's also taking your writing and using it in its algorithm: which seems fine until you realize 1. They're using your work uncredited 2. It's not staying private, they're using your work to make their service better, a service they're trying to make money off of.

"But Bucca," you might say. "Human writers work like that too. We read books and other fanfictions and that's how we come up with material for roleplay or fanfiction."

Well, what's the difference between plagiarism and original writing? The answer is that plagiarism is taking what someone else has made and simply editing it or mixing it up to look original. You didn't do any thinking yourself. C.AI doesn't "think" because it's not a brain, it takes all the fanfiction it was taught on, mixes it up with whatever topic you've given it, and generates a response like in old-timey mysteries where somebody cuts a bunch of letters out of magazines and pastes them together to write a letter.

(And might I remind you, people can't monetize their fanfiction the way C.AI is trying to monetize itself. Authors are very lax about fanfiction nowadays: we've come a long way since the Anne Rice days of terror. But this issue is cropping back up again with BookTok complaining that they can't pay someone else for bound copies of fanfiction. Don't do that either.)

Bottom line, here are the problems with using things like C.AI:

It is using material it doesn't have permission to use and doesn't credit anybody. Not only is it ethically wrong, but AI is already beginning to contend with copyright issues.

C.AI sucks at its job anyway. It's not good at basic story structure like building tension, and can't even remember things you've told it. I've also seen many instances of bots saying triggering or disgusting things that deeply upset the user. You don't get that with properly trigger tagged fanworks.

Your work and your time put into the app can be taken away from you at any moment and used to make money for someone else. I can't tell you how many times I've seen people who use AI panic about accidentally deleting a bot that they spent hours conversing with. Your time and effort is so much more stable and well-preserved if you wrote a fanfiction or roleplayed with someone and saved the chatlogs. The company that owns and runs C.AI can not only use whatever you've written as they see fit, they can take your shit away on a whim, either on purpose or by accident due to the nature of the Internet.

DON'T USE C.AI, OR AT THE VERY BARE MINIMUM DO NOT DO THE AI'S WORK FOR IT BY STEALING OTHER PEOPLES' WORK TO PUT INTO IT. Writing fanfiction is a communal labor of love. We share it with each other for free for the love of the original work and ideas we share. Not only can AI not replicate this, but it shouldn't.

(also, this goes without saying, but this entire post also applies to ai art)

[mariasont]

Office Sleepover 3 - A.H

a/n: yeehaw this took me way longer than i thought but here she be

i feel like im so ass at writing smut so just bear with me yall

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

part one here! part two here!

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, hungover reader, unwanted attention from some rando, awk as fuck reader, fingering, dirty talk, doing the dirty in the office, definitely illegal, definitely probably caught on cameras

wc: 4.2k

Everything hurt--your stomach churned, your head throbbed, and your eyes burned. You squeezed them shut, feeling your body tense against the stiff fabric of the pull-out couch. Fists curled tightly, you gradually let your eyelids part, casting a slow, sweeping glance around the room, trying to piece together what the hell happened.

Pain hammered around the inside of your head. You desperately needed a hefty dose of Advil--ten at least. As though your mind had materialized them, you rolled over to discover a bottle and a glass of water on the nightstand. You assumed you had JJ to thank, though the certainty of that was as fuzzy as your thoughts. Each effort to reconstruct last night's events was a stab to your already excruciating migraine.

You had all your clothes on, that was a plus considering your notorious history with wine and stripping. Stripping. Your hand slapped over your mouth, a floodgate of recollections bursting through--calling Hotch in a wine-induced haze, flashing your tits, asking him to stay.

You were in full-blown panic mode, the sudden urge to throw up clawing at your throat. The bed was empty, save for yourself, but you vividly remember Hotch laying down with you. This only left two possibilities: he left after you fell asleep or it had been a figment of your imagination. You were desperately hoping it was the latter.

But clearly, the universe had its own plan, because there he was, leaning against the door frame, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a paper bag that, by the smell of it, contained greasy food.

With a throat like sandpaper and sweaty palms, you met your boss's gaze. "Hotch," you croaked, pausing to swallow. "Um, good morning--or is it? My sleep schedule's always off after drinking. It feels bright in here, right? It's also kinda hot, is the AC working?"

You impulsively rose from the bed, a decision you instantly regretted as the room seemed to spin around you in protest.

"Sit down," he commanded, a firmness in his voice that brooked no opposition, and you promptly sat your ass back down, watching him with an expectant look.

You attempted to read his face, but it was a blank slate, making you that much more nervous. He must hate you, you figured, because you certainly hated yourself. Your boss had seen your nipples. A wave of heat washed over you, and you clenched your eyes shut, as if that could make this situation disappear.

"Here," he said, handing you the coffee and the bag, then gesturing to the Advil on the counter. "Take that, and I know you might not feel like eating, but it's necessary. The food and coffee will stabilize your blood sugar levels."

"Right, yeah, course," you nod, accepting the items with shaky hands, holding the cup with a grip that's a little too firm. "Listen, sir, I'm really sorry about last night. I promise I don't usually drink that much. I don't even know how I got that drunk, and I know I acted completely inappropriate towards you. If you need to file a complaint, I understand. Again, I'm just so sorry..."

You wanted to cry, but you held it back, knowing it would only make this whole situation worse. You deliberately avoided his eyes, focusing on anything but him while you absentmindedly toyed with the breakfast sandwich in your hands.

After a moment, he releases a soft sigh, the mattress sinking slightly as he settled beside you, his knee gently knocking yours.

"I'm aware this week's been tough on you. It's, uh, clear you weren't thinking straight, and I'm not about to make a formal issue out of a slip-up."

Your head dipped, as you tried to fend off the rising warmth in your face. "I don't think I can ever look you in the eyes again."

"That feels dramatic," he pointed out, a chuckle in his voice that made you glance his way. "Trust me, it's already forgotten."

That was a lie. He may have lacked Reid's eidetic abilities, but there was no possible, imaginative way that he would forget the image of you topless--it was imprinted in his memory. In fact, it had become the sole focus of his thoughts ever since. He silently thanked the gods that it was a Saturday, and he didn't have any pressing work issues.

"Somehow, that's not very comforting," you replied, a suppressed giggle breaking through as you met his gaze. "So, did you, um, end up staying over?"

Your cheeks glowed with a soft pink, hands unconsciously smoothing over your thighs--a nervous habit of yours he had quickly taken notice of. It emerged involuntarily when you faced tough cases, or when your computer took too long to start up, or even when the elevator made an unexpected noise.

"I did," he admitted, "You shouldn't have been alone."

Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and you were weirdly frustrated that you couldn't recall being the same bed as him, being able to feel his body against yours. You bet he was warm, and soft, and large against you.

"Thank you."

His phone went off. "Hotchner."

Your eyes followed his movements, noting the firm nods, watching as he stood, his expression hardening, jaw tightening, and hand coming to rest on his chin as he faced away from you.

The phone call was brief, and he quickly turned his attention back to you. "We've got a case."

And it was quite the case--three male victims, all in their forties. Each crime scene was close to Quantico, about twenty minutes, sparing the team any extensive travel. Though, after last night, you don't think you would have minded if they had been halfway across the country.

You were really banking on Hotch's ability to keep things professional, knowing full well that if Morgan caught wind of this, you'd be better off dead.

The team was huddled around the briefing table, absorbing Garcia's detailed rundown of the killings--they were violent to say the least--with heads bashed in and over twenty stab wounds per victim. Whoever was doing this was angry.

Hotch eventually split everyone up into tasks—Spencer and Morgan to the crime scenes, JJ and Emily interviewing the families, and Rossi was tasked with convening with the local police force. So, you know who that left at the office? You, Hotch, and Penelope. What a great group.

You avoided both of them, a pattern that had become all too familiar you had realized. Hunched over your desk, you were engrossed in sending Spencer images of your latest research on the town. True to form, he responded--Can you just fax that over to the police station?--because god forbid, he has to read it from his phone.

So, there you were, barely resisting the urge to slam your head into the fax machine. You wouldn't consider yourself technology impaired, but to say you were on friendly terms would be overstating it.

"Need help?"

"Oh, yes, please—," you began, but your voice trailed off as you noticed one of the guys from forensics hovering just a tad too close for comfort.

"They're always a bit stubborn," he noted, barely giving you space to breathe before his shoulder nudged against yours as he fiddled with the device, "just a slight...there we go."

The machine sprang into action, prompting you to step back and acknowledge his help with a nod. "Oh, thanks."

"Not a problem," he assured, stepping closer in the process, his fingers lightly brushing your thigh as he pointed out the correct button. "You see, it's all about timing," he added, his voice low and unnecessarily close, "these things can be so fussy, right?"

A subtle nod was your only response, hoping he'd take the hint that you weren't in the mood for small talk. The hangover clung stubbornly, and the whiff of his breath was a cruel taunt against the fragile peace you were maintaining over your stomach.

"So, do you find this kind of tech stuff challenging?" he asked, a little too casually. The question hung awkwardly in the air. You sought to put some distance between you, yet he matched your every move, keeping the space closed. "I mean, I'm pretty good with my hands, not just with machines honestly."

Ew.

You mustered a smile, though you were sure it was more of a grimace. The room felt smaller, the walls inching closer. "I usually manage," you responded, the strain evident in your voice.

He leaned closer, if that was possible, it was like the concept of personal space was foreign to him. "Maybe I can show you a few tricks, help you manage a little better?"

His words were light, but his proximity was anything but, almost suffocating.

Just as you were firmly about to tell him to shove it, a sharp voice beat you to it--probably for the best.

"That won't be necessary."

The forensics guy, whose name you still hadn't gotten, straightened, his smile faltering under the weight of Hotch's piercing, don't fuck with me, stare. A look usually saved for unsubs and incompetent officers, but now it singled out this man.

The same look remained on the poor guy as he directed his words to you, "why don't you join me? We need to go over some case details."

It really wasn't a question.

The man backed up instantly, mumbling something under his breath about just trying to help, but Hotch's glare followed him until he was well out of earshot.

Surprisingly, a similar sharpness was aimed at you as soon as he opened his mouth. "I'd appreciate it if you chose to flirt on your own time, not the Bureau's."

His words landed with the sting of an unexpected slap. You blinked, taken aback. "What? I wasn't--,"

But he didn't allow you time to finish. Instead, he pushed a water bottle in your hands, his eyes scrutinizing your face with such an intensity that you wished the floor would swallow you whole. "Drink. You look pale."

"Gee, thanks," you grumbled, under your breath, more to yourself than him, as he wheeled around and headed briskly for the briefing room.

Your steps lagged slightly behind him, your forehead lined with a thoughtful frown. What was that about? The way he acted--the tightness that had formed around his mouth and the harshness in his words, it was so unlike him, well, at least for it to be directed at you.

The rest of the day unfolded just as you thought it would upon waking--like shit. Hotch kept his distance, his exchanges with you brief and to the point. Every time you tried to grab his attention, hoping to clarify things (why you felt the need you weren't sure), he was already looking else, focused on literally anything but you.

It was painfully evident that he was avoiding any personal conversation with you, a realization that bit deeper than anticipated.

The office slowly emptied, the case binding you and Hotch to the briefing room, the only sounds being the faint gentle tapping of your pen and the occasional snap of your hair tie.

It was late when you finally spoke. "Hotch, this says the victim had fibers under his nails that don't match anything from the suspect's home."

Hotch's gaze snapped up to yours. "Are you saying you think the forensics team missed that?"

You met his eyes squarely, cocking your head to the side at the tone of his voice. "I'm not saying anything. I'm just pointing something out."

He bridged the space between you, his jaw set in a firm line. You could feel the warmth spreading across your cheeks as the distance dwindled.

"I'm just saying I don't want you jumping to conclusions based on underdeveloped theories."

You met his eyes with a glare, your teeth grinding together in the process. "Underdeveloped? Is that how you see my contributions now?"

The space between you had now vanished, your heart racing, finger almost poking into his chest as you spoke.

Hotch settled back against the wall, arms folded across his chest, giving you a pointed look. "I didn't say that," he replied, his voice level, markedly different from your agitated one. "We just can't afford to investigate every insignificant detail."

"Every insignificant detail?" you scoffed, "these are leads, Hotch."

His shoulders lift in an indifferent shrug that made you want to wrap your hands around his throat, and not in the good way. "Maybe. However, we need to be sure before we pursue it."

Drawing in a controlled breath, you fought to stay calm, but he was making it very hard. The sensation was all too reminiscent of college, contending with the overconfident frat boys just to voice your thoughts. That comparison may have been a tad extreme--Hotch was far from being like those insufferable boys, but he was certainly pushing your limits right now.

"I am sure. Why aren't you listening."

"I am listening," he said, but his voice was distant. "I just... I just don't want to get sidetracked, that's all."

"Sidetracked? By what, exactly?"

"I'm just not sure you're all here right now."

You felt your cheeks warming with a tinge of shame, but you pushed back, fists clenched at your sides. "I'm here, Hotch. I'm focused."

"Because last night—,"

"Last night was a mistake, okay? I got it. I already apologized for that. But I'm not irresponsible, my focus is on this case."

A lengthy pause followed, his expression unreadable. "You're certain about that?"

"Yes, I'm certain," you snapped, moving towards him again. "And for the record, JJ said you were okay with us having a few drinks."

"I was," he admitted. "But I didn't think—,"

You didn't let him finish. "What, that I'd get wasted? That I'd do something stupid? I'm sorry I'm not perfect."

"Well, yeah."

"Screw you, Hotch."

You knew that was a mistake the minute his nostrils flared, his chest now a pressing force against yours.

Then, without warning, his lips crashed into yours. A muffled oomph of surprise left you, your hands hanging motionless at first, only to quickly melt, grasping at his jacket, pulling him into you.

It wasn't a gentle kiss, nor was it kind, but it was magic, exceeding anything you could have imagined, setting every fiber of you on fire. His lips pressed against yours with an intensity that drew out a breathy sigh, arousal tingling through you, and your passion rose to meet his, equally hungry, equally desperate.

Your fantasies had never done him justice--kissing him was intoxicating, and now you could feel yourself getting lost in the sensation, realizing it was everything you never dared to hope for.

Drawing back just enough, his hands drew you closer, pressing against the dip of your back, his breath fusing with yours in a dizzying blend, making the air seem scarce.

Against the soft pressure of his lips, you murmured, "I wasn't flirting."

There's a pause as his eyes locked on yours, searching, questioning. Then, his hand settled at the side of your neck. "You better not have been."

Any witty comeback you had dissipated as his lips crashed against yours again, more urgently this time, his hands tracing every contour of your clothed body with an insatiable curiosity.

His grip tightened around your waist, effortlessly lifting you onto the briefing table's cold surface with a resounding thud, his palms then cradling your thighs. Documents and files fluttered beneath you, hopefully they weren't too important. His eyes, dark pools of brown, were meticulously scanning your face.

"You," he breathes out, his voice a low rumble laced with something you couldn't quite place, "have consumed my thoughts since the moment I discovered you on my couch." He inches closer, his breath scorching your cheek as his fingers waltzed a pattern up your thighs. "Do you understand that feeling? The intense frustration?"

You were rendered motionless, frozen in place, scared to even twitch and risk this all being a very realistic wet dream. This was Hotch, your boss, the man defined by his lack of outward emotion. To think that you--of all people--could have an effect on him was an overwhelming concept. The room seemed to tilt on its axis as he gently guided your legs apart, positioning himself between them.

"Y-Yeah, I know," you uttered unevenly, your thoughts scattering as your hands tentatively reached for his collar.

"So, you know what it's like, huh?"

Your nod was subtle, a flustered smile briefly lighting up your expressions.

"And?" he prompts, while his fingers explore the shape of your thighs, squeezing gently.

You squirm under his gaze, the intensity of it making your heart race inside your chest.

"And... it's annoying," you confess, puffing out a breath, trying sound annoyed, but the delicate blush dusting your nose gave you away, you were sure.

"Annoying?" Hotch repeats, his hand tenderly angling your face upward, his smile laced with a taunt. "Is that all?"

You rolled your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "It's distracting," your voice was softer now, desire pooling in your belly as you grasp just how compromising of a position you were in.

"Distracting," he tsked, echoing you once again as he nodded solemnly, pulling your hips into his. Your mouth parted in an 'o' of surprise, your gaze lifting to meet his. "Have I been the subject of your thoughts, then?"

Your head dipped in a nod, your fingers brushing against his firm chest, a soft blush coloring your cheeks. "Maybe a little, in a totally platonic boss-employee type of way."

"Oh yeah?"

You caught your lip between your teeth, considering your next words very carefully. "Well, maybe more than a little, and maybe more than just a boss."

"Oh, wow," his breath was a warm hover over your lips, hanging in the space between you. You ached for the tase of him again, rich with dark expresso and spiced cinnamon. It was a lovely combination. "Sounds serious."

You released a hushed giggle, a light note floating between you as your foreheads met. "It's not like I can help it."

"And why is that?"

"Because," you paused, wetting your lips in anticipation, "you're infuriatingly unforgettable, that's why."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You would."

He was kissing you again. This time a little softer, unhurried, and the whole reason for your argument faded into nothingness. Although if insubordination led to this sweet consequence, it might just become a habit.

His lips traced a path down your throat, prompting your head to tilt back, baring the expanse of your skin to his exploration. Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him impossibly close. The world seemed distant, the sensation dreamlike, buoyed by the soft lull of a lust-induced haze.

Reason gave way to impulse; your hands lost in the softness of his hair, your back arching to his hands grasping at your ass, your clothed pussy grinding against his erection.

His hands hesitated, hovering as he reached for your top, his eyes holding yours. "Is this okay?"

You nodded, more eagerly than necessary, but that still wasn't good enough for him.

"I need a verbal yes or no."

Desperation clung to you, a needy sigh escaping you as you squirmed into his touch, his hands halting your restless movements. "Yes, please, Hotch."

"You were so eager to call me Aaron last night. Say it again."

"Aaron, please, I need you to touch me," your voice rang out, imbued with such sweetness making his length constrict against the fabric of his slacks.

His fingers deftly navigated to the hem of your shirt, sliding it over your head with a fluid motion. Your bra was next, its clasp yielding effortlessly to his touch, your tits releasing with a gentle bounce, and he fought back a groan as his large hands enveloped them.

"Every bit as perfect as I remembered," he said, his fingers skillfully pulling and twisting at the nubs as you brought you forehead to meet his, a breathy gasp tumbling from your lips at the contact.

You arched your back into his heads as he let out a soft chuckle, loving the way your body reacting to him. Your eyes held a glazed-over look, lips parted ever so slightly, and you looked up at him expectantly in way that could surely kill him. 

His hands moved slowly down your sides before brushing the sensitive skin under your waist band. You swallowed a gasp, moving your hips into his again, rolling yourself against his stiff erection.

His palms pressed against your hips. "Slow down. Let me take my time with you, yeah?"

You were at his discretion; he could ask you to jump into oncoming traffic right now and you'd probably say yes.

A nod was all you could manage as you fought the urge to move, every muscle tensed, waiting for him to make the first move, but god was it hard. You couldn't really believe this was happening, until the solid press of his thumb against your clit brought the moment into sharp focus. 

"Aaron, god," you gasped, your hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. Your teeth found your bottom lip harshly, trying not to show him just how easily you could come apart right now.

"Is that good, honey?"

Honey. You could practically feel the arousal dripping your thighs as you nodded eagerly.

The pad of his thumb glided between your folds, gathering the slickness to continue his assault against your swollen clit. You buried your face deeper into his suit jacket, attempting to stifle the embarrassing sounds that you couldn't seem to contain. 

A whine of protest filled the space between you as his hand slipped away from your pants. His eyes bore into you as he gathered the strands at the back of your neck, guiding your gaze to yours. 

"None of that. Let me hear you gorgeous."

"Aaron, please, I need your fingers inside me, please."

You were painfully aware of how ridiculous you sounded, knew that if anyone else was in the office right now, you'd be so screwed, fired probably, but as his fingers dipped into your cunt those concerns dissolved quickly.

"Since you asked so nicely."

He was torturing you--his pace aggravatingly slow, working in and out of you as you tried to fight the overwhelming desire to slam your legs shut. It was so much, yet not enough. You ground yourself against his hands as his other hand clamped around your back, keeping you from falling back.

"That's it, baby, fuck yourself on my fingers."

His eyes were dark, pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling in a way that only seemed to spur you on, doing exactly as he ordered. His words felt foreign in your ears, before today you could never imagine him talking like this, so vulgarly. 

"Aaron, I-I need—," you paused, your eyes falling to his pants, more specifically the hardened cock inside them.

"Yeah? Is that what you want?"

"Yes, fuck, please," you gasped as his fingers hit that one spot just right. Your head lolled back as you clutched at his collar, his arm behind you keeping you in place.

"Watch your mouth," he said, and for some reason that was enough to send you right over that never ending ledge, your stomach coiling, heat spreading under your skin, every part of you ached.

"Oh—, Aaron, I-I'm—," you were a blubbering mess, rocking without mercy against his fingers, his thumb brushing against your nub in a way that made you feel like you had met your maker.

"That's it, baby, go ahead."

That was enough for you, your walls clenching around his fingers, back arching into him and you swore for a minute you could see stars. He helped you ride out your high.

You were wholeheartedly convinced; this was heaven. You had died and gone to heaven and the first one to greet you was Hotch, his hands tracing soothing patterns on your bare skin in an attempt to bring you back down to Earth. 

Just as you were about to reach for his pants, determined to feel him inside of you, his phone went off. Of fucking course. He shot you an apologetic look, the sound a wake-up call, pulling you both from the lust-fueled moment. 

He moved back with a couple steps, offering nods and muted words to whoever was calling at 12 am. You were suddenly extremely aware of your appearance--topless and on the briefing table for crying out loud. 

You attempted to stand, your legs betraying you with a wobble that had him instantly clasping your arm firmly, his attention flickering from the phone to the tremors in your stance. You gave him a small in return as if to say I'm fine.

You reached across the table, grabbing your shirt from its discarded state, not bothering with the bra as you dressed quickly. He cleared his throat, causing you to turn, just in time to see his phone disappear into his pocket.

"That was the Stafford police chief, there was another murder," he explained.

"Oh, right, okay, um..." you started, your brain racing into overdrive as you instinctively moved towards the door. "I just need to..."

Your movement was too quick, a dizzying spin that resulted in you tumbling into Hotch's solid frame. His reflexes were immediate, hands clasping onto you once again, preventing you from landing straight into him.

"Whoa, hey, are you okay?" he asked, brows knitting in a frown, "take a second."

"Yeah, um, yeah, I'm good," you managed to get out, even as heat suffused your face. "Just need to get changed, uh, can't imagine either of us want to the team to find me like this."

"Right."

He was still frowning, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss away the harsh lines of his forehead, but you were sure he wouldn't appreciate the gesture. 

You made a beeline for your office, the door's thud barely registering over pulsating rush in your ears. God, you were so screwed.

taglist: @chronicallybubbly @aremuslupinsimp @sky2nd @thisisdaisytrying @ryswritingrecord

[anthotneystark]

Wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face

(Also on AO3 now!)

It doesn’t happen suddenly.

Or, it does, but it’s a long time coming.

It’s a long time coming because it’s been coming his whole life. It’s been coming since the first time someone looked at him and said “it’s a good thing you’re pretty”. It’s been coming since the first time he heard someone say “beauty over brains”. It’s been coming since he was old enough to know that his dad was already planning on having to make connections to get him into a school of his choosing. He’s always known his book smarts were lacking, but it always hurt when he was reminded of it.

But it’s been more recent than that too.

It’s been coming since he felt that slick tail wrap around his neck. It’s been coming since Robin helped to change the bandages on his back. It’s been coming since the first date after everything ended with him going to bed alone because “I’m just not in the mood anymore” followed him pulling off his shirt.

It’s been coming since forever.

His looks have been his biggest asset his entire life, the only thing he could really use to get attention. And now there’s scratches in the paint.

After everything, when they’re finally safe, everything changes.

He doesn’t change, or he doesn’t think he does, because his habits are the same and his thoughts are the same and his nightmares are the same. But life slows down. And with it slowing down, he changes anyway.

Where once he was all lean, taut muscle, he softens. It’s still there, his daily runs and exercise are proof of that, but it’s a little more insulated.

(Robin tells him it’s because he’s been living with the stress of monsters for years, that feeling safe has pushed his body out of survival mode.)

It’s been coming though. With each comment from his mother about how he’s clearly eating too much junk food. With his father’s comments about how long his hair has gotten. With how girls’ eyes just skim right over him and move on.

It’s not all bad, of course. The kids, surprisingly, don’t comment beyond their usual teasing over things within his control – “stripes again? Don’t you have any other patterns?” or “why do you have to wear those shorts while you’re cleaning the pool?” which is usually followed by Eddie smacking whoever said it. Max makes exactly one comment, quietly, when it’s just the two of them still awake during a movie night.

“You’re a better pillow these days.”

Maybe it’s a joke, maybe she’s just being nicer with her teasing, but whatever her reasoning he likes it. When he thinks about it like that, being different doesn’t feel like a bad thing.

It doesn’t usually last long though.

So it’s not a sudden thing, until it is.

He’s not even totally sure what causes it. Some comment, sure, but the words themselves are in one ear and out the other. His parents are leaving for another trip, his mother comments about eating healthier while they’re gone, his father makes some dig that’ll lodge under his skin with all the other barbs he’s thrown at him for all these years.

All he really remembers is that a comment is made. The rush of heat and sour bile in his throat. The door shuts and all he can hear are overlapping echoes of all the comments that have ever been thrown at him. All he can feel is the tightness of the tee shirt he’s wearing the weight that no longer rests on his shoulders, but which is spread over his entire body. He finds himself looking into a mirror and suddenly cannot look at that any longer.

His hands shake and he doesn’t trust himself, but he knows where he can go.

It should scare him that he doesn’t remember the drive. It should scare him that he’s here but doesn’t fully know how he got here. But he doesn’t have room for more panic in his head. They’re past the point of knocking, of waiting to be let in, so pushing through the doorway of the trailer is a familiar motion. Eddie looking up and smiling where he’s strumming his guitar is a familiar sight.

The way his smile faulters and turns into a frown is less familiar.

“Stevie? What’s wrong?” He feels like he can’t breath, can’t possibly explain everything in his head, but he can’t just expect Eddie to read his mind. He’s not Robin after all.

“I need it gone. Off. I can’t…I can’t,” he manages, one shaking hand sliding into his hair and tugging, the pain grounding for just a moment. Eddie might not be able to read his mind, but he understands him these days more than most people. It’s an unlikely friendship founded in terror and fortified by countless hours in hospital rooms and new homes.

“Oh sweetheart. Are you sure?” He knows it’s extreme, but he can’t help what he needs, even if Eddie is concerned. He nods, swallowing hard. Eddie doesn’t try to talk him out of it, just pulls him to the bathroom and sits him on the edge of the tub.

“Lets start small, okay? And we can go as far as you need from there.” He wants to argue, but at the same time he knows it’s reasonable. And it’s Eddie. He trusts Eddie. He can’t make any words come out, but he manages a little nod. Eddie, doing what he does best, just starts talking. He’s not really paying attention to the words, but he doesn’t have to. He can feel the chill of the metal scissors, the soft rumble of Eddie’s voice, the too gentle fingers pushing and pulling him into whatever position is best. Eddie pauses now and again, a question in his eyes, but continues on when he sees whatever he’s looking for still lingering.

It's not until Steve feels his shoulders slumping, his hands loosening where they’re clenched at his knees, the chill of the breeze from the open window hitting skin that no longer feels boiling hot, that Eddie sets down the scissors. He feels lighter, doesn’t even care about the itchy feeling of stray hairs clinging to his clothes and skin.

When he finally looks in the mirror, his hair is shorter than it’s been in years. It’s not gone, not buzzed off, but it’s not the same as it was.

Neither is he though.

Eddie’s giving him a knowing look, one that says he’s got something to say but is holding off.

The cut itself is a little rough, but in a good way. It’s clearly not a professional sort of thing; he likes it more because of it.

“Thank you,” he whispers, exhaustion and relief hitting him in equal measures.

“You know, when I buzzed my hair, there were a lot of rumors,” Eddie says softly. “Stuff about my dad punishing me, about looking too girly before, that sort of thing. But really, it was just…so much going on all at once. My dad had just gotten arrested, mom took off, Uncle Wayne was stressed over having another mouth to feed. I felt like I couldn’t breath and just-” he makes a buzzing noise and mimes shaving through the mop of dark hair, which he’s got tied back today now that Steve can actually see it.

“Just had to get it off?” he asks.

“Yep. Needed it gone. Growing it back was a pain, but it was good too. Felt like a fresh start even if it was a little like trying to get back to where I used to be,” Eddie explains. It makes sense, at least to Steve. “So, you know, I get it. But I also know you’d have another breakdown if we shaved it all off completely,” he jokes. It’s enough to drag a laugh out of him.

It’s very Eddie, baring his soul while he’s helping to bandage a lost sheep, and Steve wishes he had the words to say how grateful he is. Instead, he just takes the towel Eddie throws at him and the soft, well worn clothes Eddie sets on the counter. He showers, pulls on a shirt for a band he doesn’t recognize, and breathes out a sigh of relief when the vice around his body finally, finally, comes loose.

Eddie doesn’t wait long once he sits down on the couch, immediately flopping back to use his thighs as a pillow while he goes back to strumming along to the music in his head. It’s a quiet moment, a safe moment. He doesn’t even notice as his head drops back to rest on the cushions, his breathing slowing as he finally feels light enough to rest.

Later, he’ll wake up with their positions reversed, with Eddie playing with his hair in a way that’ll make his brain turn into mush. Later, he’ll gather the courage to finally stop toeing that line of friendship and more that he and Eddie have been dancing on for so long now. Later, Eddie will hear everything that’s been in his head and will hold him down while he kisses every last insecurity and promises that it’s only made him more obsessed with him.

Maybe that won’t fix the insecurities, but that doesn’t mean Eddie isn’t going to make it very clear just how happy he is loving Steve exactly as he is at every point in time.

Because it doesn’t happen suddenly.

Or, it does, but it’s a long time coming.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

hello :) could you do a poly!marauders with a reader who has a really bad fear of spiders and then helping her? (Like she will cry at the sight or can’t sleep if she’s thinking of them haha) :))

𝟷𝚔 || 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: poly!Marauders x Reader

You were tucked comfortably into bed, surrounded by the warmth of three of your four boyfriends—Remus on your left, Sirius on your right, and James sprawled across the foot of the bed, his head resting on your legs. Peter had just popped out to grab some snacks, which left you all in a peaceful, sleepy state.

Or at least, it was peaceful until it happened.

You had glanced up at the ceiling to admire the star-shaped stickers glowing faintly in the dark. But instead of the comforting sight of twinkling stars, your eyes landed on a spider. A big, hairy, terrifying spider dangling right above you.

A spider.

Your heart dropped. It wasn’t just any spider—it was massive. Okay, maybe not massive, but to you, it might as well have been the size of a dragon. Frozen, you let out a small whimper, your eyes glued to the eight-legged terror.

Sirius was the first to notice your panic. He dropped the magazine he was flipping through and leaned closer. “Babe? You alright?”

Your body froze, and a strangled squeak escaped your lips.

"What's wrong, love?" Remus asked, his voice soft with concern. He leaned up on his elbow to look at you, but all you could do was point a trembling finger at the ceiling, eyes wide with terror.

Sirius frowned, following your gaze. The moment his eyes landed on the spider, his own face scrunched up. "Bloody hell, that thing's huge."

That was it. Panic set in, and you scrambled to the foot of the bed, practically clambering over James, who was still half-asleep, blissfully unaware of the eight-legged horror hanging above.

"What—ow! What’s going on?" James groaned as you elbowed him, trying to escape.

"Spider!" you cried, voice cracking as you buried yourself behind him, using him as a shield. "There's a huge spider on the ceiling!"

Remus sat up, sighing deeply. “It’s just a spider, love. No need to—”

But then he saw it, and even the normally composed Remus faltered. "That’s... quite the specimen."

Sirius, already on his feet, grabbed one of James’s trainers off the floor. “Don’t worry, doll, I’ve got this. I’ll be your knight in shining armor.”

James groaned as Sirius stepped on the bed, ready for battle. “Hey! Careful where you—OW!—step!”

But as Sirius swung at the spider, the little devil dropped lower from its web, dodging him. That was enough to send you into full meltdown mode.

“I can’t! I—can’t sleep knowing it’s here! It’s going to crawl on me! I’ll die!” You wailed, tears welling up as you hugged James’s back for dear life. “No!” you yelped, grabbing his arm. “Don’t squish it! Then it’ll haunt me forever. Just—just get rid of it!”

Remus shook his head, chuckling under his breath. “I’ll get a jar.”

“I’m not sleeping if it’s anywhere near this flat, Moony,” you warned. “You have to throw it far.”

James gave you a comforting smile, kissing the top of your head. “We’ll make sure it’s gone.”

Sirius climbed onto the couch, making exaggerated swipes at the ceiling with James's trainers. “I’m gonna get you, little bugger—”

“Sirius!” you shrieked, half laughing, half sobbing as he missed it completely. The spider scurried toward the corner, which sent another wave of panic through you. “Get it away!”

Remus sighed and calmly approached with the jar in hand. “Padfoot, quit messing around.”

“Sorry, sorry!” Sirius said, jumping down from the couch with a dramatic flourish. “You heard the lady, no squishing.”

“Careful, Moony! It’s coming right at you!” Sirius shrieked.

At that moment, Peter strolled back into the room, holding a bag of crisps and a bottle of pumpkin juice. "What's all the noise?"

James, with you still clinging to him, pointed upward. “Spider crisis.”

Peter looked up, spotted the spider, and to everyone's surprise, casually walked over with a tissue. “You’re all acting like babies.” He reached up, gently plucked the spider from its web, and without so much as a flinch, opened the window to let it out.

Silence filled the room as all four of you stared at Peter, dumbfounded.

“Did... did Peter just save us?” Sirius muttered, lowering James’s shoe.

James blinked, still processing. “I’m questioning everything right now.”

You, on the other hand, exhaled a deep breath of relief and finally let go of James, wiping your teary eyes. “Th-thank you, Pete. You’re my hero.”

Peter grinned, giving you a little bow. “All in a day's work.”

Remus chuckled and patted Peter on the back. “Well, thank Merlin someone here can handle spiders.”

Sirius quickly recovered and threw his arms around you dramatically. “But it was me who grabbed the shoe first! I was ready to lay down my life for you, love.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his over-the-top antics, feeling the tension ease from your body. “Yes, Sirius, you’re very brave.”

“Oi, what about me? I cushioned her from all the drama!” James said, twisting around to pull you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you snugly. “Best spider shield in the business.”

Peter flopped down on the bed, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Next time, just call me. Spider-slayer Pete, at your service.”

You couldn’t help but smile, surrounded by all four of your boys, safe and sound. “I feel like I should bake Peter cookies now.”

“Hey, don’t spoil him! He’ll get used to it!” Sirius teased, poking Peter in the side.

You chuckled as you started to stand up to bake cookies for Peter when you suddenly looked around, "You guys are sure it's gone right?"

Sirius slung an arm around you with a devilish grin. “Oh, it might have babies. They could be anywhere now…”

Your face drained of color, and you swatted his arm with a groan. “Sirius!”

James shot Sirius a warning look but couldn’t help laughing as well. “Alright, mate, stop scaring her.”

“I’m just teasing!” Sirius pouted, pulling you into a playful hug. “I’d never let a spider near you, promise. Not while Pete's around.”

You buried your face in Sirius’s chest, half-laughing, half-sighing. “You’re the worst.”

Peter sat next to you, patting your knee comfortingly. “You know we’ll always protect you. Spiders included.”

With James still holding you, Sirius on one side and Peter on the other, Remus beside Peter, you finally started to relax, your heart calming down. “Thanks, guys,” you whispered.

James kissed your temple. “Of course, darling. We’ve got you.”

Sirius snickered. “Now, if it was a snake, that would’ve been another story…”

You groaned again, but this time it was full of affection. “Never change, Sirius.”

[skymar13]

Could we get a bnha x a Reader who gets the urge to throw up over anything? I’m on my period rn and I cannot also I love your works ! 🫶🏼

How BNHA are when you’re on your period

Yes ofc. You’re so sweet, if yall have the chance take a look at their page!

Not spell checked

:fluff

✧❁❁❁✧✿✿✿✧❁❁❁✧

Bakugo

He’s kinda grossed out at first but he will slowly get used to it

He will buy you everything mina tells him to buy even if he thinks it’s useless shit

The first time you threw up was during training and he thought it was his fault but then noticed you having to leave class more often and put two and two together

Lowkey thought you were pregnant

After you tell him what’s actually happing he’ll start bringing extra water and nausea medicine

If you stain the bed he will be so awkward about changing the sheets

Over all ten out of ten his mom was very blunt about her periods so I guess he knew just never knew yk?

Izuku

Freaks out on you

He was aware of periods but freaks out when it actually comes to it

Asked Ururaka and tsu what to get you and what you needed and really tried to be supportive

You were the rock so when you’re emotional he’s emotional and it’s a messy week

When you throw up it sends him into panic mode because he doesn’t know what to do. Will hold your hair for you and stay as long as you need

Has a page in his note book on what you need and where to get it for your period

If you stain he’s fine with it lowkey scared to wash them for some reason

Called his mom on what to do.

Over all normal teen boy reaction.

Kirishima

Knows the most about periods

Knows a general idea of what to get you and how to help but had to ask the girls a couple of things

He was very normal about it and acted like it was an every day thing

He knew how to deal with your cravings and mood swings

Carried medicine for nausea and head aches and extra water when u feel dehydrated

If you throw up and he’s around he’s doing the most, he’s getting you water holding your hair fanning your face allat

If you stain anything he has no shame in helping you clean up and washing his sheets

Overall best out of everyone already prepared for this and doesn’t really care it’s literally natural

Iida

Panicked like alot

He knew what a period is of-course he did so why is he so scared it’s a woman’s passage of life

He immediately texted every girl he knew on what to do and naught three of everything they sent him for all the good shit too

Wasn’t grossed out more worried on how he can make you comfortable and make this week the easiest for you

When you’re throwing up he’s press pressure points to help you feel less nauseated

Learned what foods you did and didn’t like and which ones made you feel greasy or bloated

If you stain he’s immediately washing and helping you clean no ifs or buts will literally march to the washer no shame

Overall dream boat boyfriend but he panicked the first couple of times

Kaminari

He was the worst, definitely the guy to make faces and say the worst shit

Kirishima had to tell him to get his shit together and bakugo even gave him shit

Jirou told him what to get and made it as an apology

Became a fat ass with you and ate snacks and watched movies with you all day

If you’re emotional he’s js letting you be, you hate him he’s okay you wanna cuddle he’s alr laying down

When you throw up around him he’s the first one to make sure you’re okay and holds your hair back for you

One of those guys to say periods ain’t that bad then try a period simulator and cry

If you stain he’s making faces and helping you wash but that’s it he’s not touching anything

You have to be the one that normalizes periods for him and lowkey get mad at his behavior

Overall he’s a teenage boy one that wasn’t really taught about this growing up so bare with him

Todoroki

Is horrified to see you bleeding

Doesn’t know what a period is his dad never told him about it and his mom well yk…

Texted fuyumi about it and she told him what to do how to act allat good stuff

Doesn’t understand it but he’s here for you whenever you need him he’s at your command

Doesn’t mind your behavior just kinda stays non chalant

When you throw up around him he’s doing everything that he should be doing giving you water and holding your hair back

When you stain lowkey has a mini panic attack but eventually snaps out and helps you clean up

Overall he was sheltered but isn’t like kaminari at all opposite end of the sheltered spectrum

Mirio

A lot like kirishima in the idea that he already knows what to do and get and is already used to this by now with nejire

Buys you everything before you even need it and has stuff in his restroom for you to use when you’re over

Memorizes your schedule

Thinks that your so cute when you get annoyed

When you throw up he’s doing the most like iida fanning you giving you water holding you hair and giving you medicine

If you stain he’s literally the most supportive person ever he’s saying it’s okays and he’s got it lends you his clothes allat jazz

Overall he’s amazing but we already expected that

Tamaki

We already know. He had a panic attack about you having a panic attack about nothing

He’s doesn’t know what to do so he called nejire and she just got you everything you needed and give it to him to give to you

Doesn’t know what to do doesn’t make faces just genuinely confused

When you tell him what you need he does it no questions

Loves to be big backed with you because it helps him as much as it does you

When you throw up he’s useless panics and freezes and either nejire or mirio end up helping

But he does get used to it and eventually helps you

When you stain he also freezes before helping you but again he’s very nervous about it

Overall he’s Tamaki

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

Let me know if you want more characters

As always requests open

[igotanidea]

The five year old syndrome: Damian Wayne x reader.

Summary/request: f!reader having separation anxiety due to Damian's vigilante lifestyle. And him calming her down and trying to make up for the time lost, when he was gone patrolling.

***

It was normal behaviour.

Her boyfriend was a vigilante, fighting villains every night, more often than not putting himself in harm’s way and ending up hurt (not that he ever wanted to admit it).

So it was pretty obvious that  she was worried, right?

The fact that she kept on asking him in which area he was patrolling on respective night or where was he going and at what time he was planning to come back was simply a sign of her love and concern for him

Right?

Right????

And even when Damian, being Damian, tried to brush off her concerns, avoiding straightforward answers due to the safety precautions, she was pushing and pushing trying to get as little as a scrap of information from him.

Making him a little concerned and heavily annoyed.

But holding back his irritation for her sake.

“Really Y/N, there’s no need to panic like that.” He muttered, when seconds before his departure on nightly watch she dived into his arms holding him as tight as she could. “I am not a beginner in the area.” His hands were hanging by his side, a little awkwardly for a longer moment before he finally figured it would be better to hug her back in some form of comfort. “In fact, I believe I’m the best fighter in the entire family and –”

“Just please come back to me safe, ok?” she whispered against his chest, hiding face in the material of his jacket. He insisted on never leaving their shared apartment in Robin suit, and she was using that opportunity to inhale his smell that has nothing to do with his persona. “Promise me that.” Her voice turned almost begging, her grip on him tightening in desperation to keep him with her.

“Y/N. My beloved.” Damian gently unclenched her fists from his clothes “I’ll always come back to you. As before. But you really have to let me go now.”

“But –” she squeezed his hands instead, this time almost painfully as he was not expecting it

“Tsk. No buts, beloved. I will be back. And then maybe we can talk about why you suddenly became so alerted about me leaving?”

“Yeah—I mean okay…” the sigh that escaped her lips was an expression of surrender. Not willingly, but she knew there was no use arguing with Damian and his rationality.

After all, she was the overreacting one, becoming needy and putting his patience to the test. And about a situation that has happened dozens of times before.

But in her own head it was just because she was so in love with him and that was how lovers acted.

***

 It was not normal behaviour.

In the short span of two weeks, her concerns and need for information about Damian’s whereabouts when he was patrolling evolved into something way more serious.

It was like every time he was about to leave, not even raising from the couch yet, she was starting to sob uncontrollably, shaking and getting into a panic attack.

“Don’t go—”

“Y/N--”

“Please! Please, don’t go tonight.”

“I have to-“ as much as he was bothered with her emotional display, there was also a tiny glimpse of guilt for putting his duties above his love.

“Damian!” she started crying like a five year old, tears running down her cheeks like a waterfall.

Too bad he was already half into a Robin mode.

“Y/N, stop crying.” The voice he used was probably a little too stern, given the fact that he was dealing with his distressed girlfriend and not a criminal.

“I’m sorry-“ she angrily wiped the tears, holding them back with the whole willpower she possessed.

“Look at me, love. Nothing wrong will happen, okay? I’m skilled and swift and capable and-“

“Humble.” She chuckled, slowly letting his words get to her and suppress the fear and anxiety.

“No. Not humble at all. I have every right to brag and I will do it. And when there’s a woman listening to it, it only gets better.” He smirked

“You’re impossible.”

“Made you calm down though.” Damian shrugged casually “But jokes aside, I promise I will be back in one piece. And the blood on the suit will not belong to me-“

“DAMIAN!”

That was not helpful at all.

***    

It might have been anxiety. Or fear. Or million other reasons for why it was irregular, though neither of them were psychologists to figure it out.

And clearly, talking did not help at all.

In case of any other person, it would probably rub off on one’s behaviour but Damian Wayne was known to keep his feelings inside, showing the casual and indifferent side to the world.

Good thing there were some certain people that in time learnt to read right through him. And those certain people had no respect for time or place to bring out heavy topics, starting them out of nowhere while perched on the rooftop, observing a group of masked robbers, waiting to strike”

“So, what’s been up with you lately?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about Grayson. We shall focus on the object and not chit-chat about our problems.”

“Which you just admit you have.” Dick grinned playfully, daring to ruffle his younger brother's hair, earning an angry huff in response.

“I never said that.”

“Come on, Robin. I can read all over your face.” Dick continued steadfastly, not bothered by the fact that Damian finally turned his head to look at him.

“I am literally wearing a mask covering half of my face. It’s rather hard to read through it.”

“Is it about Y/N?”

Just the use of her name made Damian shake a little. Normal civilians would probably never notice that, but being raised in a vigilante family had its disadvantages. One of them being everyone being overly perceptive.

“You are not bringing her now. No one shall know her name, let alone anything else.”

“Okay, okay,  understood” Dick raised his hands in surrender “let’s give her an alias. How about a sparrow?”

“You lost your mind, Nightwing.”

“Long time ago. Now that we settled that, why don’t you confide your problems with me?”

Damian sighed in annoyance. There were only two ways this could go.

1.  He would refuse to answer and Dick would be up his ass the entire night, trying to gather information.

2.  He will provide information on his own terms and maybe won’t have to deal with Dick’s stubbornness, hidden behind chattiness.

Option two seemed like a better choice, so clenching jaw and fists Damian uttered something about sparrow being overly sensitive about him leaving on patrol.

And that was how young Wayne learnt about separation anxiety.

But if Dick expected gratitude for unveiling the mystery of Y/N’s sensitivity and weepiness he got heavily disappointed as Damian only seemed infuriated even more.

He wished he didn’t know, cause then he could pretend nothing was happening.

***

But he could not pretend and it was not because of Dick’s revelation.

It was because knowing the trouble she was going through was breaking his heart, regardless of the medically correct term for the disorder.

It was 5 am when he came back.

And she wasn’t in bed.

And not in the living room.

And not in the bathroom.

“Y/n?!”

“I’m here.”

“What are you doing in the kitchen, beloved? You are supposed to—” the other half of the sentence died on his lips as he took in the surroundings.  “Y/n…?”

Her hair was a mess, eyes reddened and wet, nose swollen from the obvious crying.

“Oh Y/N…” he took a few steps forward before she lunged to stop him.  “OUCH! The hell--?!” Damian was definitely not expecting to end up with a shrapnel in his bare feet.

“I – I had to put my mind into something and – and- I was cleaning but—”

“It’s okay-“ he hissed, pulling out the glass.

“I broke my favourite mug and I –“

“You don’t need to explain it to me.”

“I took it a sign that something might have happened to you and –“

“Y/N.”

“- and it made me freak out even more and –“

“Y/N!”

“I’m sorry!” she squealed, dropping down the packet of band aids and bandages she managed to gather in a poor attempt to help him.’

“I don’t care about the bleeding!” he grabbed the supplies and put them on the nearby table, instead reaching out his hands to her. A display of affection that only happened in the most vulnerable situations.

Just like now.

“I don’t know what’s happening.” She sobbed, diving into his warmth “I’ve never been this giddy. I’ve never freaked out like that before. And now it’s just seems like my mind is working against me—”

“Sh. It’s okay-“ the gentle caresses on her back were supposed to help her calm down “I’m here. I’m here with you. And I didn’t even make anyone bleed tonight. Todd though-“

“Am I going crazy?” she cut him off, looking up into his eyes with the most vulnerable gaze ever, tugging at his heartstrings.

“No. No love, you are not going crazy.”

“Then what—?”

“I believe you have separation anxiety.”

“Sep- what? The thing when kids start crying because their parents dropped them off at school?”

“Yes.”

“But I’m an adult!”

“Yes.”

“So how can it possibly—?”

“Hush.” Damian kissed her forehead, pulling her closer “do not worry about it now. We’ll figure it out at the right time.”

“But-“

“I need you to trust me on that. Can you?” his piercing green eyes focused on hers, almost staring right into her shattered soul. “Can you?” he repeated.

“Yes….”

“Good. Now, let me just help you ease up. We’ve got some time to make up for. And I intend to make every minute count.”

“Damian…?”

“Hush. No words now, beloved. Appreciate the cuddles and soft time with me while you can.” He muttered, leading her to the couch, settling down on it, refusing to let her speak for the rest of the night, silencing her every time she dared to make even one word.

If anything, with the fact he took her problem so seriously, she was going to develop unification anxiety.

[adhdbisexualramblings]

Cringe culture is dead. Introducing … Regressor Bill Cipher headcanons!

(May contain TBoB spoilers)

Vent regressor flag and general age regression flag (couldn’t find the source, but is that really needed?)

(Regressing while drunk, general unhappy/vent regression, unhealthy coping, mentions of a psych ward (Theraprism), panic attacks, memory issues, Bill-typical violence (non-graphic))

-I hesitate to call it regression. Being a demon with no technical physical form, and also unfamiliar with human customs, he’s not a typical regressor at all. It’s also due to the fact that Bill doesn’t allow himself to feel things and the blurriness tied to his childhood memories.

-When he’s feeling mentally “smaller”, his triangle form will shrink to accommodate.

-Sleep comes to him easier when he’s small. Bill loathes it.

-Point blank, Bill’s regression is a 80/20 split from angry to sad.

-I do mean angry. You thought his usual pettiness and emotional issues were bad? They’re heightened by ten. He hasn’t caused universe-destroying incidents yet, though.

-Bill being regressed rarely ever impedes on his ability to harm others. He’s gotten very good at ‘separating himself’ from it. Though his deal-making is often sloppy.

-Dissociation. That’s it, that’s the note.

-Thankfully for everyone around Bill and himself, his fits - and regression as a whole - only last a few hours. He’s never regressed for a day, though he has regressed multiple times in a short span of time.

-His speech stays mostly intact, but he can slip up and use more childish phrases or demands.

-He still really loves silly straws.

-He tends to regress more than usual when drunk. Bill will absolutely whine and sob and cling to the ‘safest’ person. He regressed (mostly) after his and Ford’s “breakup.”

-The Henchmaniacs have many times been concerned by this.

-If Bill, for once, thinks he needs to regress, he’ll chug a lot of alcohol to ‘do the trick.’

-He gets scared of his own fire powers. Goes into panic mode if he sees any flame at all, really.

-Doesn’t think he needs or wants a caregiver, which is true sixty percent (60%) of the time.

-Calling him “Billy” will either make him attach himself to you or try to kill you, no in-between.

-Bill has memory gaps. He gets confused as to what part of his life he’s experiencing and it’s caused him a great deal of stress.

-Almost all of the Henchmaniacs (usually Pyronica) have had to listen to him cry. Bill never manages to tell them what he’s crying about.

-“I wanna go home.”

“…I thought we already were home, boss?”

“NO!” *cue tantrum*

-Ford managed to unintentionally make him positively regress once. Bill had no clue what to do with this information and shoved it away.

-Even if you know him very well, he hides his regression exceptionally and you’d be unable to tell ninety-nine percent (99%) of the time.

-The Theraprism isn’t ill-equipped to help regressors, but Bill never lets them. He refuses to take the medicine even with the silly straw and has had multiple panic attacks and resorted to attempted murder at the prospect. The staff will leave him to his own devices if it’s a particularly bad day.

-Bill draws lots of red and blue triangles on the bad days.

-His regression has never once been happy or enjoyable. That he can remember, at least.

-The Axolotl was his caregiver at some point, however. A long time ago, when they were friends. Rarely ever did the two meet, but Bill was genuinely the happiest when he was small with the Axolotl.

[mia-maybank]

My predictions for heartbreak high season 3

-A backstory on Ant's homelife and how the map affected it -it feels like they built it up all s1 then s2 Ant was drunk or high 90% of his screentime so it feels like he was substance abusing to escape his family issues? Idk but I'm praying they give us this type of storyline in s3.

-Malakai realising he was infact just running from his problems so he comes back -he needs to address everything properly and finally have some happiness because the poor guy has been dragged through the mud in the previous seasons.

-Miss Obah helping Spider with his mother and Woodsy helping Ant with his homelife -Miss Obah makes it pretty clear she doesn't like Spider and it seems like Woodsy just sees Ant as a class clown so I think it would be interesting for them to both realise they are actually just struggling kids with shitty parents.

-Quinni and Sasha becoming close friends & Sasha redemption arc -with Sasha being vice captain they will be working together a lot, which will be interesting with them being exes. It would also be a good chance for Quinni to help Sasha realise her opinions or the way she goes about expressing her opinions is toxic and help her change for the better.

-Miss Obah talking Spider through a panic attack -because lets be real Spider bottles all his emotions and vulnerability up so it's bound to come crashing down at somepoint, plus it would be a good way to make Miss Obah realise that Spider's just hurt rather than the complete dickhead she thinks he is. It would also probably be the first time Spider has an adult figure look out and care for him and that would be good for him.

-Cash forcing Darren to sit down and communicate properly -because I love Darren but they definitely don't know what healthy communication is and to be endgame (which if they aren't I will personally riot) they both need to sit down and fully figure their shit out.

-Missy and Ant friendship -with Missy dating Spider and Ant being Spider's bestfriend it's kind of a given and she would be a healthy person to give advice to Ant.

-Missy, Spider and Ant having that dynamic where Ant is basically Missy and Spider's child -because Spider already has such a soft spot for him and I can just see them both giving him advice together and looking after him, especially if Ant gets a storyline about his parents being neglectful.

-Lots of Ant and Spider friendship screentime -in the first two seasons they are practically attached at the hip so the writers better keep it that way for my sanity.

-Malakai's reaction to Missy dating Spider as well as Spider apologising to Malakai if (when) he comes back and Malakai being shook by the fact that Spider's actually changed - it would be a good way to show Spider's really trying to change plus I feel like Malakai's reaction to Missy and Spider being together would be so funny.

-A scene where Malakai is hurt because he thinks Amerie just ignored his letter and Amerie is like "what letter?" -the writers have literally set this up by burning the letter and I'm now terrified.

-Dusty coming back to Hartley -they could so easily make up a reason for Dusty to come back and I think it would be interesting to see how he fits back in now Spider is growing to be a better person.

-Ant finding out Harper made the map too and being upset about it since it literally outed him and Spider going full protective best friend mode -the fact that everybody still fully blames Amerie just doesn't sit right with me and with Ant probably being the most affected by the map (considering his Christian parents) and with him falling for Harper he would definitely feel the most betrayed.

-Ant coming out to Spider properly or having a conversation with him about his sexuality -I think the writers just completely forgot that Ant is canonically not straight and it would be nice for it to be acknowledged, even in a small way.

-Cash self harm storyline and the others finding out the meaning of his name -This was set up with the writers revealing the meaning of his name at the end of s2 so it makes sense.

-Spider having less trust in teachers after Voss, leading to Woodsy and Miss Obah finding out Voss slapped Spider -because he literally slapped a child surely the wiriters won't forget about it and just move on??

-Ant breaking down sobbing in Spider's arms or vice versa -they are each others first point of comfort so it makes sense they will lean on eachother throughout their family issues. Plus I could so imagine a scene of Spider just completely breaking down in Ant and Missy's arms because he seriously does just bottle everything up until he explodes.

[asamary]

Worried critters

(Sorry for the long wait and ant could color the background but eh your here for the story anywaysXD)

When morning came, in the critter’s home, where loud snores could be heard. Bobby woke up, already full of energy. She jumped softly out of her bed, as she stretched her body. She looked out the window, seeing the sun not yet out .she looked at her messy roommates still asleep. ‘Well then, time to go to work!’ She thought, as she walked out of the room, and into the kitchen,on her way to the kitchen, she saw a sleeping catnap on the couch. Seeing as he didn’t had a blanket, she went back to their bedroom and took one, slowly putting it on him and continued to go towards the kitchen.

As she looked inside the fridge and cabinets, she decided today would be some old fashion pancakes with eggs and bacons. As she took a bowl and a whisk, she begun to put the flour, butter, milk and eggs, a tablespoon of sugar, some baking powder, and a pinch of salt. As she whisked it all together, humming a tune. She begun to ready the pan and heat it up.

Getting the butter and putting it on the heated pan, as she puts batter in, setting the timer, she peaked her head outside the kitchen to see catnap still asleep.Guess all the ruckus bobby’s been making didn’t wake him. she heard her timer pinging, so She went back and flipped the pancake, seeing the pancake a golden brown shade she smiled at her work, she continued this for an hour, before she heard the door to their room opening. “Bobby? You’re up early today.” Said a yawning bubba who looked in the kitchen, seeing the large stack of pancakes. “….what the occasion today? You seem to have made more than you usually do…” bubba asked.

seeing his friend happy isn’t rare or something, but today bobby seems to be more happy than usual. “Oh, good morning bubba! How was your day yesterday?” Bobby smiled, as she asked bubba. “....Stressful, some of the colleges applications the kids wanted to go to has essays. And I also need to interview them a bit. How was your day yesterday? When we came home, you weren’t here. Dogday went to panic mode you know.” He said beside bobby as he smiled at his last sentence. “Oh, i just had a little chat with our savior…. ….Maybe not so little.. hehe.” She answered, scratching her cheek while she flipped the pancake.

Bubba then helped take the pancakes to the table when bobby finally finished the last batch. “Well, next time try to leave a note at the table so we would know. “ he said as he smiled sleepily at bobby.” I’ll wake the others up, try to wake catnap if ya can” bubba said as he went to their bedroom.

As bobby walk towards the couch and stood in front of it, who has the still sleeping catnap with eyes bags under his eyes. She crouched down and tapped his face repeatedly “ cattttttttnnnaaaaapppp, wake up sleepy headdddd” she dragged as she continued to tap his face. He grumbled as he tried to grab bobby’s hand.” Quit it…..” he quietly mumbled as he tried to go back to sleep. “ oh no you don’t! It’s morning and i made breakfast! Wake up sleepy head!" Bobby shouted in front of catnap, as she tried to force him out of bed, Which resulted with him face planted to the floor. "Bobby!" A voice from the door loudly shouted, when bobby faced them she was forced to the ground as dogday hugged her. "When i came home, you weren't here!? Which was not so you... since you're always here when we come home..... WHERE WERE YOU YESTERDAY!??!" He nuzzled bobby's neck as he whined. As bobby calmed down from the sudden hug, she wrapped her roommate in a hug.

that was until she could feel a glare from somewhere. When she looked back to catnap, she could see him still face planted to the floor, but now glaring at the two hugging each other. It was silent, except for dogday's morning affection, oblivious to the glaring cat.

Then bobby suddenly thought of something. As she nuzzled dogday too, catnap suddenly stood up going to ponce, until bobby turned dogday and softy pushed him towards catnap, who suddenly melted in dogday's hands. "Ah! Good morning catnap!" Dogday greeted loudly as his tail wagged, hugging catnap to his chest. Bobby smiled while chuckling at the jelly kitten. "Well then! Since the cat is now fully awake, we can finally start breakfast!" Bobby clapped her hands together, as the door to their room opened again." Well it seems you woke the cat up, morning dogday." Bubba said as he opened the door for the others. "Morning!" Picky suddenly said as she peaked her head out the door. When she suddenly saw the pile of pancakes she dashed to the table, already waiting for the others to sit down. "Come onnnnn im starving!!" She loudly said as the others groggily walk toward the table with them saying "morning or good morning" when everyone is now settled, while dogday dropped the still sleepy catnap on the chair. Picky suddenly begun to eat, not waiting for the others. Dogday trying to wake the cat again, since he begun to sleep in the table. And the others begun to talk about their day yesterday.

As the conversation continued, hoopy suddenly asked bobby."so, you got any plans today bobs?" At that question, the other critters looked at bobby, waiting for an answer. "Well, actually i plan to go to the flower field again... if it's fine?"

She said as the critters begun to get curious about her answer.

"Flower field..... you-you mean the nearby flower field out of the borders?!"

Crafty stuttered as she looked at her back to booby."didn't the 'munched' savior sa-'munched' ehem.. sorry, said that out of the borders without supervising is a big no no?" Picky asked gulping the food she was munching. Dogday was going to say something before he was interrupted by the purple cat he was nagging,"my god said he could allow bobby to go to the flower field as she likes, she has met an interesting person out there they said." Catnap suddenly spoke, face still on his arms. It was silent for a second, before chaos accrued.

"YOU SPOKE TO A HUMAN OUTSIDE THE BORDERS!?!!??"

Everyone, except catnap and hoppy shouted.

Bobby was suddenly bombarded with questions like…

“Who are they?!”

“How did you meet!?!”

“Are they nice!?!”

“D-do they like to painting???”

And more.

As bubba snapped out of his shocked trace he begun to stop the other critters from crowding bobby.” Ok, that’s enough questions for now! let bobby breathe!” Bubba said as the others suddenly came to their senses, and looked down to their feet in disappointment.

“Its-s fine, but it will take a long time to explain, is that ok?” Bobby asked, the others looked at each others or a while until they smiled at bobby, and in sync they said “ we have all the time to hear the full story!” As they smiled their iconic smile.

…..

In (y/n) house, where their grandmother suddenly shouted outside their door. “(Y/N)!!!ITS MORNING GET YOUR ASS OUT OF BED!!" (Y/N) Grumbled as they tried to bury their face in their pillow. "5 more min.u...e.." they tried to say but has fallen asleep again. It was suddenly cut short because of their door suddenly opening. "YOUNG MAN ITS MORNING AND IM TOO OLD TO DO ALL THE HEAVY WORK!! NOW GET OUT OF BED!! " grandma shouted, which resulted with (Y/N) getting up with drool on their pillow and face.

"... and get your face washed, you look like a mess. I'll be waiting outside then... do NOT take too long!!" She said as she begun to go down stairs. (Y/N) yawn as they walk towards the their washroom, splashing their face with water, and brushing their teeth.

When they were done, they begun to speed walk down stairs, and when they went outside, they see their grandmother chopping some fire woods."took you long enough! Now get here and help me with these" she said as she gestured to the previous fire woods she had cutted. As (Y/N) begun to help their grandma bring the fire woods in their shed, their grandma suddenly asked."so who was that new friend of yours, you said yesterday?" (Y/N). Stayed quiet before they begun. "Someone i suddenly met in the flower field... it was like... friend at first sight kinda thing?" (Y/N) chucked as they looked aways when their grandma looked at them with a smirk."friends at first sight ehh," HA! oh (Y/N), you always used weird words...but.. i expected that... after all you are the grandchild of the man i adored~" grandma said smiling brightly when she saw her grandchild blushing at the compliment.'you both are truly alike' she thought as she looked at her grandchild.

As the two continued their work for an hour or so, (Y/N) looked at the day, and suddenly remembered. "Grandma, umm im going to go meet my friend at the same field again.... and um.. i might be late when i-" they were interrupted when their grandma slapped hard on their back, which made them stand straight. "HA, go and have fun!! Ahhh my grandkid is now making true friends~ what good news" at their grandma's answer, they were about to argue, but remembered how their old friends was.

At the sudden gloominess surrounding them, their grandma took their chin and made them look at her, with a warm smile she begun."I'm happy you found a truthful friend in a short time dear, and if they do become like the old ones... im always here to beat them up!" With a clutch fist and a sweet smile on her face, it both made (Y/N) laugh and scared at the same time. "Thanks grandma" they mumbled as they hugged their grandmother tightly."now go out there little shrimp!! And stop hugging me tightly!! You're straining my back already." She jokingly said as she looked at her growing grandchild.

When (Y/N) finishing packing their stuff, they waved goodbye to their grandmother as they walked towards the far away field.

Their grandmother waved until she couldn't see them anymore.

"Your grandkid is finally opening up again Alfred.... how i hope you were here to see them once more" she quietly said, beside a photo frame, as she looked at the clear sky while siting on their backyard.

"Take care (Y/N)..."

（whenever i read this it feels short, eh just me problems maybe ）

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #15] Paper Planes

warnings: byeol letting us know exactly what annoys her!! lil fight :( but jaykay is teeew cahyute :( we learn the red witch's name!!! cw: hayun!!!!! paper planes! jaykay is a little nervous, handjob, fingering, cockwarming, protected sex, oc on top, (f)solo masturbation...during cockwarming (??), mirror mentions, jaykay is just the loveliest

a/n: the comment section on this one always made me die lol

soundtrack: wrong - zayn ft. kehlani

wc: 11.1k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

When Jeongguk's phone vibrates on his nightstand, he pretends he can't hear it. It's the second time it's gone off in the last ten minutes, and even though he knows it's just you, there's something stopping him.

Okay, so that 'something' might be the little white lie he's told you about inviting a girl over - but he thinks if he replies to you, it will be obvious that he's alone.

It's been three days since you watched him type out a message to a girl, press send, and lock his phone almost immediately. He had thrown it down on his bed, groaned, and held his hand over his face as if it was some great strenuous task. 

It was only made worse by the sweet, musky scent still on his hands. You . 

And you seriously expected him to be able to invite another girl round? How the hell would he explain all the birds on his ceiling? Would he tell them the truth? Explain that they shouldn't get too comfortable with him, because his bed is reserved for his friend who he can't seem to help but desperately want to fuck?

The thought process left him reeling. 

Was still thinking about it even after you'd left that evening, none the wiser of his inner turmoil.

You also weren't wise to the fact that he'd flicked his phone over to airplane mode before sending that message. The girl - the one from the club who had kissed him with little care for anything more than the fact she thought he was gorgeous - never received the message.

And so Jeongguk had done something he knows you'd be displeased with: he lied.

Told you that he had invited her over. That she had said yes.

So he hasn't replied to any of your messages all morning, to make it seem believable.

Jeongguk's not quite sure why you're calling, now. Interrupting a date is the last thing you'd want to do, so it worries him - concerns him that maybe something is wrong - but he also fears you thinking badly of him. Knows that if you find out he is a big fat liar, you will be mad.

He'll call back soon. He will . He'll ruffle his hair, rub at his cheeks to make them a little blushed, and then he'll facetime you, as if he's just said goodbye. He'll ask not to talk about it, and let you draw your own conclusions.

He's torn from his thoughts - and the flashing of your call on his phone screen - by a knock at his apartment door. Jimin is at work, which means he has to answer it.

Tossing his phone onto his bed, Jeongguk heads towards the front door. At least this gives him an excuse to stretch his legs. He's been staring at the ceiling for a while, now. Been hoping another bird would fall so he could use it as a distraction. 

His footsteps are slow. Lethargic. His bare feet pad along the floor like a little lost puppy, as his hand comes to cover the yawn escaping from his mouth. Doing nothing all morning always makes him feel even more tired than he actually is.

He's barely finished yawning by the time he reaches for the door handle, pulling it open and putting on a smile.

And then, he panics.

"Shit."

Jeongguk almost slams the door shut again as soon as he opens it. In fact, he tries to do exactly that - but you put your palm against it just in time.

"You are unbelievable , Jeon Jeongguk."

"Byeol-"

"No, no, no," you almost laugh, waltzing straight on into his apartment as if it's your own. The television is off, and Jeongguk hasn't cleaned up the kitchen since he made breakfast, so he quite clearly has had no company - but you know this already. "You don't get to 'Byeol' me. Not now." 

He follows you in, but stands by the kitchen counter as you take centre stage by the sofa. Your arms are folded over your chest, tightly, just to let him know how unimpressed you really are. 

Jeongguk can't help but smile. He thinks you sort of look like a pissed-off bunny rabbit. Half expects your foot to start thumping out of frustration. You're dressed down - a pair of tights and a shirt large enough to be a dress, with a flannel over the top of it. You've still got your black converse on, which is testament to how little you care about leaving a good impression. They really should be by the door. But you're pissed - and rightly so.

"C'mon, Byeol-"

"No!"

"But-"

"You promised me, Gguk," you eventually sigh, shaking your head, eyes all doe-like and pretty as they reflect the light of his floor lamp. The glitter on your lashline is ridiculous as ever, and he's glad for it. Has missed it. Missed you.

"I know," he concedes. "How did you-"

"I'm a girl," you interrupt. "We know everything ."

Or at least, you know the Instagram handle of the girl he was supposed to be seeing, and had also seen her post a story by the coast that morning - miles and miles from Jeongguk's apartment.

Jeongguk casts his eyes to the floor. You've a bag hooked over your shoulder, so he knows you're heading to work, but had called in by his place first. He knows you don't have much time to waste, and he feels horrible about it all.

"So?" You ask impatiently. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

When he glances back up towards you, nibbling down on his bottom lip, brows a little higher than usual, you know he must be squirming beneath his skin. Good , you think. It's the least he deserves.

"Y'know," you scoff when he can't bring himself to say anything that would justify lying to you. "Maybe I was just naive, but I thought you got it . Didn't think I'd ever have to worry about you lying to me-"

"Byeol."

"Turns out you're just like every other guy I know."

The charming curve of his placid smile drops. His lips rest ajar and his eyes are wide - but his brows are furrowed. You're not sure if it's confusion or hurt lacing his features, but you decide that both are desirable. 

It's unfair to compare Jeongguk to other men in your life. You both know this. Unfortunately, you also both know there's only one comparison that will really hurt him.

But you're pissed. 

And so you make the comparison. 

"After Jin, I always told myself I wouldn't let anyone lie to me - but apparently lying to me is easy."

Oh, the silence. It burns . Scalds you both. 

You readjust the bag on your shoulder and shrug. Shake your head. Purse your lips. Are already running late for work, so pick your heels up and storm past him with one final scoff to really wound him.

"I thought we trusted one another. I thought we were friends . More fool me."

You don't take the elevator, instead heading for the stairs. There's a fear that he'll chase after you, and you don't want to be caught out as you wait for the lift to reach his floor.

It's not until you're out of his apartment block that Jeongguk actually moves. Doesn't even really think, either. The minutes pass slowly. It's suffocating.

The impact of your words sizzle and settle into his skin like the mark of a brandishing iron. LIAR , the imprint would read.

He crouches. Takes a deep breath. Hadn't considered there being any impact to his white lie. Thought it would be something he'd admit in a few weeks time, and maybe you'd find it funny. 

You're still learning about one another, though. There are stones left to unturn - some that are too heavy for him to do by himself. He'll need your help. 

But right now? 

You need a drink. Vodka, preferably. 

Unfortunately, drinking on the job isn't an option, so Hoseok starts on an iced americano the second he sees you storm into the room. He says nothing. Has seen you with a face of thunder before. Doesn't wanna feel the wrath of your lightning. Is unaware of the fact Jeongguk's sitting in his apartment slightly frazzled already.

Instead, he just places the drink beside you as you check through the day's bookings. It's relatively quiet, thankfully. Will give you more time to focus on planning Taehyung's upcoming exhibition. You need to send feelers out, and drum up a little bit of hype, but feigning excitement at the moment is the last thing you want to do.

"Wanna talk about it?" Hoseok eventually asks after half an hour of silence from you.

Glancing over to him, you offer a soft smile. He's the one guy who's never let you down. "It's no biggie."

And that's thing - it really isn't. In the grand scheme of things, Jeongguk's little lie really doesn't mean all that much. 

The thing that bothers you is that he would have rather told a lie, than just be honest with you. 

It's a slippery slope, you think. If he sees he can get away with a small lie, what's to say the next time it won't be an even bigger one? And then an even greater one? And then he'll just be lying left right and centre and-

"Oh," Hoseok interrupts your thoughts. Nods towards the entryway, where a man you'd rather not shower in customer service smiles stands. "I'm gonna go count some stock."

Hoseok never counts stock. He's just getting out of your hair. Knows that you've been spending a lot of time with Jeongguk as of late, so presumes that maybe he's got something to do with your foul mood. 

"We're all booked up," you tell Jeongguk, not even looking in his direction. You busy yourself cleaning out some brushes, instead. 

Still in the clothes he was wearing in his apartment - a pair of grey sweats and a black t-shirt - he's annoyingly handsome. Is also wearing his black converse. Just like you. It pisses you off.

He looks into the room and hums. There's a single couple by the side wall. No one else.

"Thought you were annoyed at me for lying?" He tries not to smirk. He knows you're being ridiculous, now. "You can't be lying, too. Would make you a hypocrite." 

He's got you there.

"Fine," you snap back a little harsher than you intend. "This area is for paying customers only, I'm afraid, sir. Please buy a canvas, or fuck off."

"Is that how you usually speak to punters?" He grins, digging into his pocket to retrieve his wallet. This just annoys you even more. You wanted him to leave.  He tosses his card down on the counter. Doesn't care what he pays for. Will pay for anything just as long it gives him a chance to make things right.

"To the ones who deserve it," you smile, but he knows how you actually smile at him. Knows this one is entirely false. Reaching over for his card, you begin tapping through some options on the till system. "So that's a deluxe painting experience for two?"

"For two?" He questions.

"All of our solo slots are unavailable," you shrug. It's such a blatant lie that it makes Jeongguk laugh.

"All of your basic packages, too?"

"Mhmm."

"Fine," he just says. "May as well go all out. Charge me for a VIP package."

You pause. Glance up towards him, only to realise he's deadly serious. The VIP package rarely sells, because it's honestly not worth it. Customers just get fresh supplies that they're able to take home - and a personal buzzer that they can use to get the staff's attention.  

Turning your concentration back to the screen, you nod, and process his payment. "Very well. Please take a seat of your choice. My colleague will bring your supplies to you."

Jeongguk knows Hoseok. There's no need for you to be so fucking formal. He thinks you're being unreasonable. 

"Not you?"

"No. Not me."

You really mean it. Will avoid Jeongguk like the plague if you can help it.

Hoseok has other ideas. He refuses and practically pushes you out from behind the desk with Jeongguk's apron and paints in hand. You whisper curses in his direction, but straighten yourself up to approach Jeongguk with a demure demeanour. Cold as ice, he's not used to seeing you like this. Finds it kind of funny.

Sat by the window you adore so much, Jeongguk has his back to you, and is quiet as a mouse. He's decided that he's not going to engage in conversation with you, because he knows you. Knows that it will drive you mad. Knows that you'll start a conversation just to bicker with him.

But you're also silent as you approach; silent as you don't bother arranging his paints for him like you know you should, silent when you let the apron drop to the floor instead of handing it to him. 

You place the buzzer beside him, and walk away knowing that Hoseok will have to accept any of Jeongguk's calls, for you'll just refuse. 

Thing is, you didn't charge Jeongguk for a VIP package. 

You charged him for solo basic package. 

And so when the buzzer alert vibrates at the front desk, Hoseok refuses to get it. Says he's under no obligation to fulfil Jeongguk's requests. You gave him the buzzer. It's your job.

"You wouldn't have given him a buzzer if you didn't want an excuse to talk to him," Hoseok says, and regretfully, you know he's right. So you just give him a small glare, and head in Jeongguk's direction. 

It's barely been five minutes since he sat down. He can't need help already. 

You say nothing as you stand beside him. Wait for him to turn to you. Refuse to look at his canvas.

"Do you guys have wifi here?"

There's a poster on the wall quite literally beside him with the code on it. You nod in its direction, and catch glimpse of his canvas - and the pale blue letting in the middle of it: 

i'm sorry 

"That everything?" You ask a little impatiently. 

"Yeah," he smiles, and his lip ring flips ever so slightly. You hate how much you love it when that happens. Jeongguk thinks you want to smile back - but you storm off before he has a chance to confirm this.

And so five minutes later, the buzzer vibrates again. You groan, and Hoseok just smirks. Tells you that you reap what you sow. 

You tell him you'll sew his mouth shut if he's not careful.

When you reach Jeongguk again, he has another stupid question - "which way up should the canvas be?" - and you know it's just a ploy to have you looking at what he's written on there again. The entire background is baby blue now, but in peachy pale orange, it reads: 

forgive me :(

You simply reach over, and turn the canvas so that the painted side is facing the easel. "Much better." 

He knows he shouldn't push his luck, so he decides against calling you over again - but he does take his precious time painting, then starting over - again and again - just to buy more time in his little corner of the cafe. The sun sets. Hoseok heads home. So do the last customers- and yet Jeongguk remains. 

You had spent the rest of your shift trying (and failing) not to glance in his direction. With the amount of art that adorns his arm, you're not surprised to find he's the artistic type, but you hadn't expected him to be a pastels kinda guy.

"Pretty," you muse as you come to stand behind him. Your voice is soft now, in a way that it wasn't earlier. Calmer. More at ease. Not quite warm, but certainly not as frosty as it had been.

"You think?" he tilts his head, and ignores the way your hands rest upon the top of his shoulders. 

It's not that you aren't still annoyed with him - you most definitely are - it's just that you've spent the entire day in a horrible mood. It's so much nicer to pretend you're not. It actually makes you feel a lot better.

In front of Jeongguk is a pretty little sunset scene. Purples and oranges, like a meeting of clematis and clementines. It makes a change from the pink and blue gradients that people usually do, and you find yourself a little bit enamoured with the way he sees the world.

"Mhhm," you nod, and squeeze his shoulders gently. "Really pretty. I've only got a couple of jobs left to do. Got much to add?"

He shakes his head. Truthfully, could have been finished three hours ago. Thinks he's done - then says, "hold on."

Dipping his thinnest brush into the small reserve of white paint on his palette, he adds a dainty star in his sky. 

"There," he says triumphantly.

"Beautiful," you muse.

If you weren't too busy looking at his art, you'd catch his beaming face in the reflection of the window, and the way he bites down on his lip just before he agrees. There's something comforting about the way he paints; like a blanket over cold toes on a winter's night, the promise of everything being okay in the end. It's hopeful, you think. Calming. Promising.

And yet Jeongguk is still Jeongguk.

"I'll put it up in the living room next to your tits."

Rolling your eyes, you tap the back of his head and walk away. 

"At least you won't have to lie to Jimin about this one. He still think my tits are courtesy of Tae?"

"Courtesy of Tae," Jeongguk nods as he gets to his feet and begins to clear away his supplies. "He hasn't been round ours lately to say otherwise, and Jimin hasn't mentioned it to him, so we're all good."

You mumble a noise to affirm Jeongguk's assumptions. You know your tits are ticking time bomb - you just have no idea when it's set to blow. Hope that you'll be safe from the blast when it happens.

Jeongguk disagrees. He really does believe Jimin won't give a fuck. Might be a bit weird, granted, but it's not like Jimin has any claim on you. Sure, he got you 'first', but Jeongguk doesn't think it counts for anything.

"At least that's one less thing for you to lie about. I actually do need to call Tae," you ponder as you restock the paint.

Jeongguk ignores the small jab about lying. Knows that you'll no doubt insist on talking about it later, so revels in the distraction of Taehyung. "You do?"

"Mhhm," you say. "We need to plan the layout for the exhibition. Figure out how we're gonna make the space usable for regular customers, still."

"Well," Jeongguk considers as he runs his palette under the sink tap. "If you need any help moving the furniture about, I'll be happy to help. Anything for Tae."

"For Tae?" You raise a brow.

"Uh-huh. Not for you."

Oh, what a beautiful liar Jeon Jeongguk is: eyes bright, smile wide, cheeks so appled you think he could make cider. There's no malice in his misconstruction of reality, just a tender awareness that you tend to enjoy when he's like this.

You look at him with perplexed eyes, and sigh so deeply he thinks that you can't have been breathing properly all day. 

He knows what's coming next. Saves you the effort of asking the question. 

"I just... got scared." He looks down at his hands. They rest on the counter above the till, as he picks off flecks of dried paint with his nails. You don't tell him to stop, even though you've already wiped the surface down. Figure he's doing it because he's a little stressed. You feel bad.

"I know," you offer a little sympathy. "But isn't that the whole point? We're doing things that scare us, Gguk."

"You've been doing so well," he says and glances up, eyes wide and desperately wanting you to understand. "I'm lagging behind."

You shake your head, and gently squeeze his hand. He stops picking at the paint, so you keep it there. 

"I'm doing well with you," you insist. "Put me with a stranger? Anyone else? I'm not sure I'd be able to cope as well as I have been with you."

He hadn't considered it that way. He pushes his lips to the side like a bunny twitching its nose. It's endearing how vulnerable he can seem despite his piercings and tattoos. There's a softness to Jeongguk. 

"And, hey- at least you did invite me round."

"That doesn't count," he says, reminding you of your own words.

"But it shows that you're also doing well with me. We both need to work on using the lessons we've learned from one another. Both have a long way to go."

He just shrugs. Pulls his hand away, so he can take his apron off. 

"I still shouldn't have lied. I'm sorry."

"And I probably shouldn't have been so harsh on you," you offer back. "Should have heard you out before I decided that you were the spawn of satan himself."

He shakes his head. Doesn't think you were entirely wrong for being so annoyed. He knows he didn't have to lie to you. Instead, he had made an active choice to deceive you in order to make his life a little bit easier. 

Thing is, he's never had anyone call him out for bullshit like this before. Knows he'll think twice before he does it again.

"C'mon," he just says, knocking his head towards the door. "It's late. I'll walk you home."

It's shit like this that makes it impossible to stay mad at Jeongguk. 

His heart is in the right place, as are his intentions - it's just his execution that sometimes leaves something to be desired. Everyone makes mistakes, though. We live and we learn.  

You think that you're learning a lot from one another. Are glad you're able to resolve differences like these easily. Shows he cares about making things right. 

And so you invite him inside when you reach your place. Danbi is away visiting her sister, so it's just been you for the last couple of days. You don't mind it - you enjoy your space - but sometimes it's nice to have another voice in the four walls you call home. 

Despite the lack of a nosey housemate (who would definitely have a few suggestive glances to throw your way if she saw Jeongguk arrive home with you), you invite him to your bedroom, instead of staying in the living room. Aren't really sure why. Just feels... apt. 

It's not his first time entering your space, but he's still a near stranger to your bedroom. It couldn't be more different from his. You're a maximalist through and through, with enough decorative pillows to open up a soft furnishing shop. There are photos of friends, ticket stubs, and old flyers adorning your wall - a paper trail mapping out exactly who you are, all for his viewing pleasure. 

He learns you like a few bands that he does, too. Asks about your favourite tracks. Learns dumb shit about you. Finds that he likes you even more with every new admission. 

Unlike his, your bed is tucked into the corner of your room, where a slightly sloped ceiling makes it feel all cosy. There's no space birds you think. 

"Would be a waste," Jeongguk just shrugs. Is still beating himself for the fact he's seemingly unable to do even the simplest of birds. 

"I wish you wouldn't sell yourself short, Gguk," you sigh, looking at him with a little more pity than he'd probably appreciate. It's okay, though. He doesn't look at you. Just nibbles at his bottom lip and keeps his focus on his hands. "I know your last girl hurt -"

"Hayun," he says quietly.

"Hmm?" You question, though you know exactly what the interruption means. It's her name . He's finally speaking her into existence. Introducing his past to his present. Progress, you think - but selfishly, you sort of wish he hadn't. She'd always been ambiguous. Unknown.

With her name comes knowledge; and the ability to seek her out in Jeongguk's Instagram followers just to see what he's picturing instead when he gets a little too cosy with you.

"Hayun," he repeats, not that he needs to. "She's called Hayun."

She sounds like a bitc-

You cut your thoughts off before they can fully form. You don't know her. Only know Jeongguk's side of the story. It would be unfair to judge her. No matter how badly you want to.

"Well," you start slowly, a little unsure of yourself. "She. Her. Hayun . She hurt you." He nods. "But she's one person. There are billions of people out there, and of those billions, only a very small few will hurt you. You can't keep writing yourself off because of one person."

Hypocrite.

That's the thing, though. There are probably dozens of people out there who are just like her, but won't hurt him. 

Now you come to think about it, there are probably just as many people like you, too.

In the end, what really makes any of us so special? So unique?

Deep down, you know the answer: other people.

It's strangers on the street deciding how attractive you are in mere seconds, friends you've known for years finding comfort in your presence, lovers who mourn the loss of you even when you're still alive and kicking.

Hayun isn't special. She's just human.

Jeongguk is what made Hayun special. He decides that she's special.

But you make him special, too. 

No one sees him quite as you do. No one notices the callouses on his hands, or the tiny section of hair that his hairdresser cropped just a little bit too short compared to the rest of the cut. No one notices the way it's always the right side of his smile that lifts first, or that he always shakes his head a little before he adjusts his hair.

No one else notices the tiny flecks of glitter you sometimes leave on his skin. Not even him.

But you do.

Jeon Jeongguk is special because you choose to make him that way.

Just like you make Seokjin special. You've all the power, and one day you'll wise up to it. For now, you'll just hope that Jeongguk wises up to it, too.

"Then why do you do it?" Jeongguk counters. "Why do you write yourself off because of one person?"

It's a good question.

You find that missing Seokjin comes in waves. 

You'll think you're fine - that the shores have settled and the winds have calmed - but then the tide will come in. Waves will thunder towards you and crash seemingly without warning. You'll be drenched in your sorrow, and there'll be nothing you can do but watch the rides roll away again. He'll be gone, but only long enough for your clothes to dry. He'll be back soon enough to wreck you once more.

Jeongguk watches as you contemplate your answer. Notices the way your shoulders sort of cave in on themselves. Wonders if you were like this before Seokjin.

He's seen glimpses of you that he believes came before Seokjin. The times when you smile; when you laugh without fear of being judged. He's seen you vulnerable, and hates the fact that someone who treated you so unkindly has also seen you like that.

"I'm not sure," you admit. "Part of me thinks it wasn't my fault. That he knew exactly what he was doing every time he broke my heart."

"And the other?"

You look at him for a moment. Wonder what's going on inside that pretty little head of his. You don't think he's judging you, but he definitely is mulling your answers over.

"The other..." you sigh. "The other part remembers the good."

"And what was the good?" Jeongguk queries. "I've only heard the bad."

He doesn't doubt there must have been good times - he just doesn't think they could make up for how dreadful you seem to feel now. 

It's like that wave of missing Seokjin has stolen his breath, too. He feels the impact. Maybe not in the same way that you do, but he definitely notices it. Notices how it gets to you. It's a domino effect.

You shrug. There's so much you could say, but nothing that feels like it could justify what a terrible state you're in.

"He wasn't all bad. He isn't all bad. He made me laugh-"

"Bare minimum."

"Shut up," you say, tapping Jeongguk's chest with a grin on your face. "He's ambitious, yanno? I liked his drive. Liked that he knew what he wanted and would stop at nothing to get it."

Jeongguk holds his tongue. Drops his gaze from yours. Is scared you'll somehow read his thoughts, and know he's thinking: kind of like when he cheated on you?

But you're thinking it too. Know that his ambition was founded in selfishness. 

"Well," Jeongguk sighs. "They've both fucked us up, haven't they?"

"A little. At least we're trying to fix ourselves, now."

"Trying," Jeongguk repeats. "Not sure we're succeeding."

"Maybe not yet, but... I have an idea," you grin. It's for him, not for you.

Jeongguk narrows his eyes. The last bright idea you had ended up with a flock of paper birds above his bed, and you seeing him far more naked than you ever should have done. He doesn't imagine this idea will be much better.

You take his silence as permission to carry on talking.

"So I don't have any origami paper-"

"Oh, fuck no," Jeongguk laughs. Not more birds.

"No, hear me out!" You laugh right back. "You said that you don't mind doing your birds with me - that it's different to doing them with other people, right?"

He nods. Is cautious as he does so. Doesn't entirely see where you're going with this.

"You're always willing to do my birds, right?"

"Right..."

You take a deep breath. Are aware that what you're about to suggest could be met with rejection - but how can Jeongguk be expected to be brave enough to open himself up for rejection if no one around him ever does?

"My birds all tend to... be focused on the same thing, right? But you're always happy to do them with me. You're not scared of like... sex. Whatever, you know what I mean," you struggle to articulate yourself.

Jeongguk takes a moment. 

He knows that there's an idea brewing in your head, but chooses to ignore the mental gymnastics involved in figuring it out.

"But," you continue. "What about the things you're cautious of? The things that scare you in the bedroom? There must be some you haven't done before because you were scared of your partner thinking it would be weird?"

"Well, yeah? I'm sure everyone has?"

"Okay, good," you grin, getting to your feet and retrieving some paper from your desk and a pen. "Think of the most unhinged, or slightly obscure things you've always wanted to try. The stuff that you haven't tried before. The things you've feared being rejected."

"Why?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Stupid question."

It's stupid because it doesn't answer his question, but also stupid because he thinks the answer is abundantly clear. 

And yet you ask again.

"Do you trust me?"

He wants to say no, just to be difficult, but his lips betray him.

"Course I do."

You ignore the way your cheeks heat up at his admission. After the little meltdown you'd had earlier, it's nice to hear - and reminds you that he could probably do with a little reassurance too.

"Good. I trust you too. To me, it seems like sex is less scary to you than pursuing relationships - so let's do a sex-based fear of yours instead. Ease you into facing the other ones that actually mean something to you."

Jeongguk isn't convinced of your logic - but you just look so damn hopeful. He'd feel like an ass if he didn't try.

"Alright," he says. "How do we do this?"

"Write the things you feared getting rejected down. I won't look. Just write them down," you repeat, before adding, "then fold them into paper planes."

"Paper planes?" he laughs, and so do you.

"Yes. Paper planes. Chop chop," you continue grinning as you close your eyes to encourage him to get to work.

He looks over at you - the smile settling on your lips, the serenity to be found in your company, and thinks fuck it. 

What's he got to lose? A little dignity? Perhaps it's naivety, or maybe it's just the influence of your enthusiasm, but he feels as if maybe you're right. Maybe things don't have to terrify him. At least not when he's with you.

He's seen how mortified you get whenever one of your birds fall, and how happy you always are after they're completed. You make the scary seem safe.

And so does as he's told. There are five pieces of paper, so he writes down five things he's never done. Five things he's always wanted to try - mostly out of morbid curiosity, more than anything.

When he says he's done you insist that he shuffles the (expertly folded) paper planes up. The way he bends to your every whim is quite remarkable. Makes you think that Hayun must have been a real piece of shit to take advantage of his feelings. If he's this willing for you, he must have constantly been on his knees for her.

"Okay," you say excitedly when he's done. You point to the mirror across from your bed, signalling to the empty waste bin next to it. "First paper plane to land in there, we do."

"We do?" He chokes on his own words. He sort of thought he'd just be sharing his desire. Not doing .

"We do - within reason. Like, if you want a threesome then that's just not possible, 'cause I'm simply one woman," you joke. Jeongguk smiles in such a way that tells you there's definitely ' threesome ' on one of his planes. "Look, let's just do it. What's the worst that could happen? I say no? Life goes on, Jeongguk. It'll be okay."

He hesitates, but not because he's nervous. It's cause he knows he's got a great shot. Tells you so.

"The first one will go in," he promises - so you choose one for him, and are proven right as he sinks the plane into the bin without an ounce of effort.

"Huh," you hum. "Nice."

You choose not to question the fact it sort of turned you on. Put it down to hunter-gatherer instincts. Some shit like that. 

Instead, you hop off your bed to retrieve the plane. While you're up, you roll off your tights. Don't wanna ruin one of your best pairs.

"Shall I do the honours, or would you like to tell me what we're doing?" You ask. 

"Put me out of my misery," Jeongguk groans, letting his body collapse into your pillows. Buries his head. Decides he hates this game. 

Hates it even more when he hears you whisper, "holy shit."

"What is it?" he grumbles into your pillow.

All rather suddenly, Jeongguk's expert aim isn't the only thing that's turned you on this evening. What he's written? Fuck . One of your favourite things. 

"It's torture," you tell him.

"I didn't write that down."

"No... but what you wanna do? Man, knowing you? You'll hate it."

You get back onto your bed and roll him over. There's no resistance. He just lets you move him about. Lets you straddle his hips. Grunts a little as you adjust. Curses when you turn the piece of paper around for him to read: 

cockwarming

"Great choice," you hum in approval. "Not what I was expecting but-"

"Wait," he laughs. "You actually want to do it?"

You shrug. "A bird's a bird. A plane's a plane."

"But do you want to?"

"Would I be sat on your lap like this if I didn't?"

He never gets a straight bloody answer from you. It frustrates him. Mentally. Sexually, too.

"This is so fucking weird," he laughs, pulling his arm to cover his face, his saccharine smile the only thing left on show.

You wrap your fingers around his wrist and pull his arm away. He keeps his eyes closed regardless.

"Look, weirder things have happened," you reason. "But if you don't wanna do it-"

"No!" He cuts you off rather abruptly. "I mean, yes. No. Yes. Fuck. Whatever. I wanna do it."

The hand that had covered his face rests now on your hip. When he looks up at you like this, you think his ex must have been mad to fuck him over. 

He's so precious; the dewy tip of his nose slightly blushed, lips pouty and a little glossy. It's his hair that really gets you, though, and how it's so silky smooth that it never tangles, not even as it's pointed in all different directions over his forehead. 

You reach over to straighten it out, and Jeongguk wonders what's behind the delicate smile on your lips. Wants to know every inch of the brain that you so often get lost in. Wonders what he'll find of himself in there.

It's probably for the best he doesn't know.

Your smile broadens a little, cheeks like cherries, so sweet and precisely what he's craving.

"Okay," you nod. You're sat on his crotch and can feel that he's stiff beneath you, but ask if he's hard enough just to check.

"Don't look," he tells you as he hooks his fingers beneath his sweats. You raise yourself up a little to give him some wiggle room. There's a small dark patch of grey where you've been sitting. He isn't the only one who's a little excited.

He pulls himself out of his underwear. Strokes once, twice. Knows he can be a little harder, but he's nervous. Grips himself tighter. Doesn't look at you.

You don't look at him either. 

Instead, you twist your body over to the nightstand, where a small trinket box sits prettily. Jeongguk had paid it no mind when he was looking around your room earlier, as he'd just assumed it was a jewellery box. You flick it open and retrieve something a little more important than pair of earrings - though now you think of it, you also slip your rings off.

Sitting up straight again, you place your bounty on his stomach.

Jeongguk looks down his body, chin to his chest, to see what you've put there.

"Think we'll need it?"

You glance down to check you've put the right thing on his stomach, a little panicked incase you'd mindlessly retrieved your vibrator from the box instead of your bottle of lube - but nope. All good. It's next to a condom. Safety first.

"Yeah?" You let your brows furrow and settle quickly. "We're not working me up, so."

He narrows his eyes. Remembers to sound of your pussy as he had pushed his fingers into you. Knows that it really doesn't take that much to get you dripping.

"We can," he offers. "Like this is a whole process-"

"The plane says cockwarming," you shrug, conscious of not making this about yourself. "So that's what we'll do."

"Byeol."

"Jeongguk."

"Yanno, your need to follow your self-imposed rules is gonna cause us issues," he tells you with such certainty that is kind of funny he looks so stern when his hand is wrapped around his cock.

"No it's not - put the condom on - it's gonna do us a world of good," you smile. 

"You won't even let me kiss you."

"'Cause that's too intimate!"

"Byeol, my cock is gonna be inside you."

"Lucky boy."

"Byeol-"

"Just let me sit on your dick," you grin, rolling your eyes at how pedantic he is. "We can psychoanalyse ourselves later, okay?"

"I-" he sighs, closing his eyes so firmly shut that creases etch themselves into his skin. "I'm hard, I'm just not... there yet."

"You're not?" you hum in surprise. He never has much trouble getting hard, from what you've seen before.

He shakes his head. Bites his lip. Apologises. "Just nervous, I think."

The stupid thing is that he knows he needn't be. He's just not used to this. He's used to foreplay that gets him to the point of coming undone before the funs even really started. He takes his time when he fucks. Takes it seriously.

But you're so casual he can't wrap his head around it. Can't understand how you aren't scared, too.

Thing is, you're terrified. A boundary is being crossed that neither one of you can come back from - but there are only consequences if the pair of you make it that way. It doesn't have to mean anything, and so you're pretending like it doesn't.

"Would it help if I..." You ask quietly, not finishing the sentence. 'Helping' is not on the plane. You shouldn't.

He says nothing. Swallows harshly. You're thankful for the fact he hasn't taken his shirt off. The beating of his heart that you can see through the cotton is already too much to cope with.

He nods.

Stills his hand.

Waits for yours to join.

It's already been established before that your hands are far smaller than his - but seeing them wrapped around the base of his cock? Yeah, it almost makes him say 'fuck it' and ask for a handjob instead. Can't remember the last time he'd have chosen one of those over pussy, but he likes your hands. Likes your wrists. Wants to watch what they can do.

Funnily enough, he can barely keep his eyes open when you actually do get to work. Feels too fucking good. 

You're salivating . Can't remember the last time you gave a simple handjob either. Always end up sucking instead, and there are never any complaints, so you'd forgotten what a simple pleasure it can be to watch a man writhe from your hand alone.

"You good?" you say quietly as he pulses his hips up into your grip. He's hard . Real fucking stiff. Probably the hardest you've ever seen him.

"Mhmm," he nods, only opening his eyes when your grip loosens. You can't take your eyes off of him. He's far bigger than you imagine him in your mind. A vein runs up the underside of his shaft, from the base right to his head, and something about it gets you a little breathless. Just like he is. "Yeah. Shit. Sorry. Yeah, I'm good. You good?"

You like how he stumbles over his words whenever he's turned on. You've noticed it a few times. Always gets your biting your lip. It's refreshing how open he is about how easily he loses control.

It's funny. When you finally look up at his face, you notice he's got a very similar vein that runs down his neck. It's engorged. Prominent. Blood desperately pumping through his body to keep him hard - not that he needs much persuading. 

"All good," you nod. "You ready?"

You're expecting compliance - but he shakes his head. 

"We both know you absolutely cannot take me without warming up a little first, Byeol."

You think he underestimates just how fucking wet you are. Beneath your bra, your nipples are so hard it fucking hurts . You can't remember the last time you were this turned on.

So turned on in fact, you've not thought of Seokjin once, despite the fact Jeongguk is where he usually is. It kind of feels like Jeongguk belongs in your mountain of pillows, lit up by the neon light above your bed. It's a little pink heart - a gift from Danbi one Christmas - and it paints him in the most gorgeous hues. There are no stars in his eyes, just tiny pink hearts. Suits him.

"It doesn't matter if 'this' is for me," he says tenderly. "'Cause honestly, I can't get off if the person I'm with isn't getting off, too. Let me at least make things a little easier for you."

"Easier?" you question, but needn't. It's obvious what he's alluding to. He glances down to his cock, which is thick and still in your grasp. Far thicker than his fingers are.

He nods. "Let me finger you again. We've done it before. We can do it again. I promise you the birds won't mind."

You think his forwardness is perhaps the sexiest thing about him in moments like these. 

He isn't afraid to ask of what he wants from you - which makes everything all the more confusing. Perhaps he really isn't fearful of rejection from you.

"Or you can do it yourself," he also offers. He doesn't want to be too forceful with his requests, just knows you'll thank him later. For all of his creative endeavours, Jeongguk has an analytical mind. Remembers his first forrays into relations with women, and mistakes that had been made in the past. He knows he needs you wet, and knows that even with lube, the tightness can still be a bitch. "I don't mind. I just don't wanna hurt you."

"Okay," you whisper.

"Okay?"

You nod. "You can do it."

The way he sinks his fingers into you is borderline paradise. 

Truthfully, you've only tried getting yourself off once since he was last inside you like this, and gave up halfway through. It just wasn't as good without him.

His thumb presses against your clit, and he's pleased to have you mewling. Had missed that sound. Fucks his fingers into you a little deeper. Stokes against your walls just how you like it. They're hot. Wet. Fucking divine - and he gets to put his cock inside you afterwards? Jeongguk thinks he's won the fucking lottery. 

He briefly thinks of Jimin. Decides that if he were ever to win the actual lottery, he'd probably give Jimin a share of the money. Not all of it. He'd keep the biggest prize. It makes sense to him that you've got a pussy like the winning numbers. As long as he's the one declared 'winner', Jeongguk thinks he'll be okay.

You tell him that you're good - that you can take him now - and he wants to protest. 

Partially cause he's only two fingers deep and knows he should really be three if he wants to stretch you out enough to easily take cock, but also 'cause he really fucking like the way you sound. You insist though, so he lets you. Will let you do anything you like at this point. 

He doesn't bother cleaning his fingers off. In an ideal world, he'd lick them clean - but that's uncharted territory between the pair of you. Doesn't wanna scare you off - as if you aren't rolling a condom down his cock, before lining yourself up with it as he considers it. 

He's throbbing already, swollen and hard, desperate to be sheathed inside you. Tells himself that it's okay, because you're not actually gonna be fucking and also because he's wearing a condom. Skin on skin? Raw? That'd be different, he tells himself.

"Ready?" You ask, breath a little shaky. You don't know why you suddenly feel nervous.

He nods. "Ready."

The tip of his cock rests against your entrance. 

You had deliberately stopped Jeongguk from working you up fully, because you wanted to really feel him as he enters you. 

There's a pleasure to be found in the right kind of pain - and sinking onto cock as big as his? Yeah . That's one of them.

You lower yourself so slowly that Jeongguk is absolutely certain you must be a masochist - or at least he would be, if could form coherent thoughts. He's too busy feeling . You're tight around him. Hot. Slippery yet small. He knows the lube is redundant. Knows you'd have been able to take him without it.

"Holy shit," you curse, still only about halfway down his shaft. 

In another, ideal, world, you'd start to bounce a little. Ease things in a little more gently - but that's strictly against the rules of cockwarming. All you can do is curse. Like him, you're feeling, too - stretched out, full. Content.

It takes the best part of a minute to sink to the base of his cock, and when you do, it takes everything in you not to just fuck him.

Instead, you lay yourself flat against him, arms crossed over his pecks, chin resting on your wrists. His own chin is pressed to his chest, angled a little awkwardly, just so he can look at you. You've no idea what's going on behind his treacle eyes.

"Is it okay?" you whisper, though it's more like a whimper. You're fucking pulsing around him. You both know it.

He nods. 

"Weird," he admits with a smile, a little breathless. "But good."

He finds sanctuary in these moments with you. Is unsure of how the pair of you ended up here, but doesn't mind that you have. He finds it mad that you view this as not being intimate. Thinks you must be clinically insane.

The truth of the matter is that you've made a fatal error. The reason you hadn't considered cockwarming as being too intimate is because you hadn't considered it all. No one ever asks to do it during drunken hook-ups.

But you're comfortable. You like it. You're no stranger to the act, but it's always been foreplay. With Seokjin, it never lasted more than a minute or so. Was just something to tease one another with.

This is different.

"I really like this," he whispers. You don't open your eyes, but you do smile when you feel his torso twist a little beneath you, his fingers reaching over to fix the strands of hair that have fallen from behind your ear.

Aways attentive, he never misses the chance to preen you. Welcomes you at your worst, but endeavours to get you at your best. It's curious.

"Me, too."

"Hey, Byeol?" He hums quietly.

"Mhmm?"

"I really am sorry about earlier."

"I see you've learned the oldest trick in the book."

"Which is?"

"Apologising while you're balls deep. Always works."

"Are you saying this is what I need to do for all future apologies?"

"You're planning on lying to me again?"

"No," he says sternly but softly. "No, I'm not."

"Well then, I guess we'll cross that bridge when we get to it," you hum against him.

"Do I have to lie?" he asks. "To get this again?"

He's unaware of the way he's biting down on his lip until you glance up towards him. Catches himself, but it's too late. You've already seen it. You don't mean to, but you mirror him. Bite down on yours, too.

"Are we allowed to do birds more than once?" You ask him, as if you haven't been in his shower a handful of times by now. You even know how to work the temperature gauge and everything. Are basically a seasoned regular. 

It's also his point of reference. Knows that he prefers his showers when they're with you. He tells you this - and then says, "I figured we could probably do with a shower after this?"

"My water pressure isn't as good as yours," you simper into his chest, avoiding eye contact.

"So come back to mine?"

It's a question asked without much care for consequences. He doesn't think much of it. You shouldn't either - but you just can't help yourself. 

"You know, I'm starting to think you don't actually have a fear of rejection," you tease lightly. "This was all just a master plan to get into my pants, wasn't it?"

"I've already told you, Byeol. I'm not scared of you."

His hand skirts up your thigh and settles by your hip, the pads of his fingers sinking tenderly into your flesh. His grip isn't hard, but it's firm. Present. There. 

He swallows back a breath. Pushes his head back into your pillows.

The way his neck moves beneath the warm glow of your neon light is sinful. It takes everything in you not to let your nails creep around it; give him a necklace he never asked for but would gladly receive.

This isn't about you, your wants, or your needs. This is all about him. If he asks for your hand around his throat? You might oblige. You might not. Depends on whether or not you're trying to annoy him. For now, your hands remain beneath your chin, resting prettily on his chest.

He exhales a breath. It's deep. You can feel your body move as his lungs deflate. Eyes finding yours once more Jeongguk shakes his head. "This is fucking torture."

You try your best not to laugh. Are well aware of the way your pussy will pulse around him. You don't want to make this any more difficult for him than it already is. "I told you so."

His body is clammy beneath his clothes. He's fighting every urge, every instinct he has. His cock throbs inside you. He wants more . Wants you .

And yet he finds you all rather amusing. Laughs, because he's stupid, and hasn't wised up to what such a movement could do yet. He stops all rather quickly. Eyes wide. Drinking you in to see if you felt it too; the way his muscles had flexed beneath you, the slightly involuntary pulse of his hips, the deep nudge of his cock against your walls.

"Fucking hell," he curses, closing his eyes. The crown of his head pushes down into your satin pillows, hair a mess all over his forehead. His brows pinch together, nostrils flare, jaw tenses. He's sin , but oh so pretty as his dark hair tangles against your posy pink bedding.

The worst part of it all, though?

It's the way he can hear you smile - the light breath that escapes from your peachy lips as you smirk. The subtle giggle. He can't open his eyes, 'cause he can't trust himself when you're looking at him in the way that he knows you undoubtedly are. Isn't sure he'll be able to follow the rules - the ones you implemented that he hates anyways.

Contrarily, you can't take your eyes off of him.

It's as if those big brown eyes have hypnotised you. All he needs to do is click his fingers and you'll be set free - but Jeongguk is a boy . He's stupid . He doesn't realise just how bewitched you are at this moment. Thinks that he's the only one struggling.

It's redundant, mind you - for you wouldn't take your eyes off of him even if you could .

Jeongguk is a sight to behold when he's like this. Kind of reminds you of when he strength trains at the gym - but it's your legs wrapped around his waist instead of a lifting belt. He'll have far less satisfaction taking you off, that's for sure.

You clasp his pointed chin with your fingers and turn his head to the side. His eyes open and land on the full-length mirror across from your bed. You smirk.

"Watch," you tease, subtle in how you're doing it, but he knows exactly what you're up to.

"Can't use my moves on me, B," he husks, but does as you say. 

It's not like he can see anything - just that you're on top of him. The shirt you're in has ridden up to your thighs, so your legs are exposed, but that's as much skin as there is on show. He strokes the bare skin regardless. Watches his hands as they caress you. Enjoys the sight.

"Oh, but I can," you simper, turning your head on his chest so that you're both looking in the mirror. It's kind of sweet. Or at least, it would be, if your pussy wasn't currently being stretched out by a cock so thick you know you'll be feeling it for days.

You watch on as his eyes scan the pair of you, but settle on you. He raises his brows. Looks ever so charming as he does so.

"It's not like we can even see anything," he protests, and he knows he shouldn't, because you're you . You'll just try and prove him wrong - and that's dangerous for everyone involved - but mostly him . Incredibly dangerous for him.

He's proven right as you slowly push against his chest, lifting yourself to a seated position. Jeongguk thinks he'll cum immediately if you even so much as giggle. Or maybe he'll die. Both will feel just euphoric.

Instead, your movements are slow as you reach for the hem of the oversized shirt. You lift it - just a little. Just enough. You can't see anything - but the way Jeongguk is straining his neck just to take in the sight of his cock buried in your pussy? Yeah. You know it's worth it.

"See anything now?" you tease, but he notices how breathless you sound. Are glad it's taking a toll on you. The base of his cock is covered in lube, but he can see a subtle change in texture where your pussy is stretched out around him. Knows that it's because your anatomy is desperate to have him fucking you, even if your brain is telling you otherwise.

Except that's the thing.

It's not.

Every morsel of your being wants to fuck Jeon Jeongguk.

It's only made worse when he smirks. 

"Nah. Can't see anything," he rasps. "Lift yourself up a bit?"

Never one to do as you're told, you shake your head. Sink back down to his chest - but the movement of your torso encourages your pussy to slide up his cock just a tiny fraction. Jeongguk fucking groans. Grabs hold of your ass and holds you in place. The change in position, no matter how small, has you struggling to catch your breath.

"Gguk," you mewl.

He nods. Understands. Can't fucking breathe either. Assumes from the way your entire respiratory system seems to be failing that the shallowness of his cock means that he's hitting you in all the right places. You're pulsing around him. Wonder if knows that the ridge of his head is cushioned perfectly against your most delicate spot.

"Deeper," you whisper, fearful of what will overcome you if he stays there - and so he pushes further into you. Holds you in place.

"Shit, Byeol," he finally husks, before realising just how close your lips are to his. His nose nudges against yours. He can feel your laboured breaths. You can feel his. His fingertips squeeze the flesh of your ass. You fucking moan. "Fuck. Don't do that. Don't..."

You're so close that he's having to fight every instinct telling him to press his lips to yours. A rule is a rule, and Jeongguk doesn't like breaking them - but he does really fucking like asses, so he squeezes again. Gets you mewling. Gets himself all worked up.

"Byeol," he whispers, chest rising and falling at such a rapid speed he can barely get his words out.

"Mhmm? Still okay?"

He nods. Grips onto your hips. Does nothing with them. Just holds. Keeps you still. "Okay. It's okay. It's... Fuck. Byeol, it's good."

"Good?"

"Mhhm," he grunts. Moves his hips to adjust your position. Gets you all moany, too. Makes your walls throb. Just a little. Just enough. "Shit. Yeah. It's real fucking good. Jesus Christ. Can you-"

He's cut off by your walls throbbing again. You know it's what he was gonna ask. If you could make it happen. You think you might be able to bring him to orgasm with that alone. You do it again.

"God, Byeol," he curses. Looks at you. Wishes you were naked. Wants your tits in his face. His hips pulse again. It's subtle, but - fucking hell - it's deep.

"You can't fuck me," you whisper, reminding him of the rules, as if you aren't dying to fuck him too.

"Says who?" he whines. "I think fucking is a really good idea."

There are two things certain about horny Jeongguk: he will trip over words, and he will convince himself that bad decisions are good ideas.

"Mhmm, yeah, may as well just ride you now," you tease, knowing full-well you won't. He understands the tone of your voice, but decides to push his luck for the fun of the flirt.

"You wanna ride me, huh? Bet your tits would look incredible."

"Flattery gets you nowhere," you tell him with absolute certainty. 

Considering this all came about because he lied, you should really know better than to tell fibs - especially when he's inside of you. 

Flattery is actually getting him everywhere . You're fucking leaking. Getting the base of his cock all messy. Your body is screaming at him: fuck me.

One of his hands grips your hip to keep himself snug, as he uses the other to sit up straighter. There's a small shift in the position of his cock, but it only serves to let more of your juices seep from your cunt. He can feel how damp the top of his thighs are, now. Knows it's not just the lube. Knows it you. 

Your faces are level as one of his arms wraps around your back. Your instincts tell you to grind - and that's not really fucking, is it? Just a languid movement or two surely isn't sex?

His cock is inside you. There's no debate to be had. You'll both defend yourself till the cows come home - but to any normal person, this is definitely fucking. 

Jeongguk's nose nudges against yours. His voice is breathless as he husks, "get yourself off."

He'd do it himself, but he knows you. Know what you're like. Knows that it's an issue you're yet to work through.

"Sure?" you whine, in desperate need of release. This, you think, is the closest to torture you'll ever get. 

"Please," he nods. Remembers how it felt to have you climax around his fingers. Wants it again now. He adjusts his hips. Desperately tries to feign innocence. 

"I know what you're doing," you grin against his neck, your forehead resting on his shoulder. "Behave yourself."

"I am," he pouts. 

"Stay still," you say regardless. "You won't feel it otherwise."

You let your hand drop between the pair of you, and start to rub dainty circles against your clit. It's easy to find - swollen and engorged - painfully neglected for far too long. Your head tips back, and Jeongguk's spare hand rest against the base of your neck.

"That's it, pretty. Get yourself off. Fuck."

And there's that flattery again. You're fucking ruined . You press harder against yourself. Rub faster. Spank your clit once, twice - and smirk when Jeongguk moans from the sound alone.

"Shit, yeah," he encourages. "Gonna make yourself cum so hard, aren't you? Gonna cum all over my cock? That's it. Oh shit, yeah. That's it."

His hip pulse - just a little bit - but you can't blame him. Your walls get tighter. Jeongguk grunts. You fucking moan. His grip on your throat? Yeah. That gets tighter too. 

"Eyes on me," he demands - and you fucking comply. Of course you do.

"Gguk," you mewl, but cut yourself short. The feeling is growing too strong. You can't hold it off any longer.

He nods. "Tell me."

Your free hand grips the back of his neck. The orgasm you're building has your body tensing. Lifting. Moving up his cock. It's almost as if your body knows to get the ridge of his head pressing against your g-spot. You can barely get a word out. It's all too much.

"I'm-" you try, but it's muffled by your own moan. " Gguk ."

"You wanna cum?" He asks, his voice tender and gentle and so incredibly fucked out that it's miracle you haven't fucked him. You think you'd lose it if you heard Jeongguk's voice mid-fuck. You don't realise it sounds a hell of a lot like this.

"Mhmm," is all you can manage, nodding your head. His grip on your neck is so incredibly dominant that you lose all capability of making your own choices. "Can I?"

"God, yeah," he lets out a breathy laugh. "God, I want you to cum so bad. Wanna feel you. Wanna- oh, fuck . That's it Byeol. Cum all over me. Good girl. That's a good fuckin' girl."

His words coax a climax out of you, body shuddering, pussy trembling around his cock. It's violently fast and yet terribly slow all at the same time. He hugs you tight to his chest. Holds you through your orgasm. Breaks one of the rules, and presses a kiss against your hair. You don't really notice. 

You do notice the way his legs shudder against your ass just as you finish coming down, and how he hugs you to his chest even tighter. How he fucking whines. Stammers. "Oh, fuh- Shit. Shit, Byeol."

And then his hips pulse beneath you. Once. Slow. Deep. Strong. "Fuck."

They retract. Repeat. Once. Twice. 

His lungs suddenly heave, as if he's been his breath the entire time. He pants. Laughs. Tilts his head back. Looks euphoric beneath your neon light. Confirms your assumptions. "Came."

You laugh, too. Slowly lift your thighs and let him slide out of you. He hugs you still. You hug him right back. It's nice. Really fucking nice. 

"We're never fucking doing that again," he smiles as his hands rub up and down your back in the most soothing of ways.

"Oh?" you question, nestling your head into the crock where his neck meets his shoulder. "Not a fan?"

He shakes his head. "Fucking torture. Next time I'm inside you, I'm just fucking you."

It amuses you how tender his hands are as they stroke your back, but his words are just as vulgar as they always are. 

"We shouldn't fuck," you tell him, a smirk on your lips, heart not beating quite right yet. "Wouldn't wanna ruin the friendship."

Jeongguk thinks it would be impossible to ruin something as good as this. 

"Good job we're not friends, then," he jokes. "Can't stand you."

"Oh yeah, my bad, I forgot," you play along. "And I'm just using you to get closer to Jimin."

"Fuck off," Jeongguk laughs. "Why drink Smirnoff when you could drink Grey Goose instead?"

You roll your eyes at his little barman analogy, and pull away to get yourself cleaned up. He's sad to watch you walk away. Doesn't even want to look at the mess you've made together.

"Hey Byeol," he calls after you. "About that shower?"

He hears you laugh. Can picture your pretty little face as you do so, and how the glitter from your eyes is practically all over your face now. He likes it. You're cosmic.

"My place or yours?"

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

[mariyekos]

Story concept: Kid Nero, still at the orphanage, gets attacked by a rogue demon and has his arm change. He can't hide it from the caretakers, so they find out and report it to the Order, who essentially kidnap him under the guise of Nero having been "adopted by outsiders." They then take him to the Order headquarters to experiment on him. As part of their experiments, they decide to start hunting down Devil Arms far earlier than in canon, triggering Lady to catch onto them way earlier. Importantly, Fortuna/Agnus has the Yamato fragments already, and detect some resonance between them and Nero but aren't able to get anything out of it.

Lady sends Dante to investigate the string of suspicious Devil Arm purchases in an attempt to get him out of his post-Mallet slump. Since it's her attempt to get Dante to actually do something, Trish doesn't go ahead as Gloria in this universe. Instead Trish goes to Fortuna with Dante but as herself, using Alastor instead of the Devil Sword Sparda in an attempt to be more (but still not very) subtle. During their investigation, Dante randomly Triggers for a split second at one point, and immediately feels something coming from Fortuna castle that he can't ignore. He heads there, discovers Agnus' lab and the Biano Angelo prototypes he's working on, and works to destroy them.

Trish meanwhile ends up talking to a very curious child who talks to Trish about a friend of hers who used to want to be a demon hunter with the Order when he grew up. She hasn't seen him in months though, because a family from out of town adopted him and took him away. She's sad because her family was thinking about adopting him, and had even talked to the orphanage about it once, but apparently the other family was more important or something because her friend was adopted out so fast she never got to say goodbye.

Back to Dante, he finishes mowing through the Angelo's and comes upon the Yamato, broken and floating in a strange contraption he doesn't really want to touch. Still, he's not going to let Vergil's sword remain in the hands of these demon worshipping, clearly human experimentation happy freaks, so he- feels another pulse of familiar energy, and rushes into the next room, where he finds Agnus experimenting on Nero. With Dante's entrance Sanctus had ordered Agnus to speed up their work on the weapon, so Agnus basically went into overdrive trying to get Nero to output the kind of demonic energy needed to power the Savior or the special Devil Arms they'd devised to use Nero's unique power as fuel since it's naturally more compatible with humans nd thus could be good for outfitting their Angels. Dante attacks Agnus after some words, but Agnus escapes before Dante can kill him. He goes to free Nero, but Nero's in full panic mode and when he sees yet another person reaching for him, he has a scene similar in idea to the one in DMC4 where he unlocks (some of) his potential, summons a fixed Yamato, and uses it to lash out at the person "attacking" him...thus stabbing Dante through the chest.

Dante does his best to calm Nero down, but Nero ends up passing out before Dante can really get anything out of him. Trish shows up around then and obviously notices the similarities between Dante and the child in his arms, as well as the Yamato which neither had known were there, but she just asks about next steps. Dante wants to burn the Order to the ground, but he doesn't want to risk the kid getting hurt any more, and they've clearly done something to him that Dante wants to investigate because he's not sure about possible repercussions. Or maybe Trish brings that up. But point is, they need to get Nero put of there, they don't have the time/shouldn't kill off the whole Order without getting more info, and Dante doesn't trust anyone on Fortuna with the kid when almost the whole island seems to be a part of the cult, so the only option left is to take Nero with them. For his own safety.

From there it would be about Dante doing his best to be a parent when he has absolutely no idea how to raise a child, and even less of an idea of how to deal with a clearly extremely traumatized child. Sure, Dante was super traumatized as a kid too, but his trauma was different. Nero's a different person. And maybe his nephew? This is raising so many questions about Vergil when Dante decided he never wanted to think about him again after murdering him a year back and he doesn't know what to do, but there are no good options here. He can't send Nero back to the island. Not if he doesn't want Nero to get captured, tortured, and experimented on again. He can't drop Nero off at another orphanage. Not if he wants Nero to be safe; Dante remembers all the people who died for the sin of being close to him, and while Nero has less demonic blood if Dante's suspicion is right, with him having awakened to some extent he might lure demons in too. Plus there's the arm.

So yeah. He has a kid now. He's a horrible option for a parent but all the options are horrible, so he's going to do the best he can.

Has this been done a million times before? Probably. Is it still fun to think about? Yes. Will I maybe write an actual fic on it one day? If I have the time, it would be fun. We'll see. For now it mostly just ideas!

[dawnofh]

Getting saved by 141 [Headcannon]

Price

Disappointment but not surprised, how hard was it to stay put and don’t get kidnapped?

Made an entire rescue mission just to get you back.

Was the first face you saw when he came to your aid.

“I’ve got you Son.” Reassured you that you were alright and in safe hands.

“I’m sorry Sir, I told them about the team’s whereabouts…” could care less that you gave them information, more about the fact you were tortured for it.

Shines a flashlight in your eyes and tells you to follow it just to make sure you’re still functioning.

Is angry but not at you, likely at himself for allowing one of his own to be taken.

Will offer to carry you on his back if you can’t walk.

Patches up your wounds by himself, warns you in advance when disinfecting the wounds, “This is going to hurt like a bitch so suck it up.”

10/10, give this man father of the year. Don’t expect candy from this man, he will offer you a cigar though.

You’re on probation. Don’t even try change Price’s mind. He’ll just give you a pat on the back and apologise, “It’s for your own good, Kid.”

Checks up on your mental state daily and recommends you a military councillor.

Ghost

Knight in military uniform.

Sneaks into the warehouse you’re being held captive in.

Stealthy asf, no one ever sees this man coming and if they do then it’s already too late.

Jumpscare.

If he isn’t opening fire then he’s probably throwing knives into necks.

Throws you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes if you’re injured, doesn’t matter what injury, he’s just not patient.

Stabs adrenaline into you to keep you alive.

“You breathing, Soldier?” Gently slaps your face to keep you awake.

Will undress you from your uniform without second thought to patch up a wound so you don’t bleed out.

Sits next to you on the plane ride back to monitor your state. If you were unconscious when he found you then he’d allow you to lay on his shoulder but if you’re conscious he’ll make sure you stay that away until you’ve received medical attention.

If you’re the former then he’s probably not the best face to wake up to.

“Holy shit, am I dead?” “You nearly were.” “Because I’m seeing a Ghost.” “I still don’t find you funny.”

He definitely killed everyone in that warehouse for harming one of his own but will never admit that to you and simply just tells you, “Everything is taken care of, Kid. Go rest up.”

Puts you on probation and during that probation he’ll teach you some moves so that he doesn’t have to save you again.

Soap

*Panicked Scottish noises*

Radios you over and over to try get your location, when he finds out you’ve been taken he goes into Captain Mactavish mode.

Doesn’t really make a plan, runs straight into danger. Definitely blows something up just to live up to the demolition expert title.

Would quite literally NOT tackle someone out of a window onto a car but simply will throw them out of one. That Captain Mactavish mode has its limits.

Rushes to your side and cuts off your restraints. Cups your face with his gloved hand and tilts your head back and forth to check for any head injuries. You could be staring him dead in his eyes and he’d still check your pulse.

Will fireman carry you if you can’t walk or you’re unconscious.

Clicks his fingers in your face and then asks you how many fingers he’s holding up. You look at him dumbfounded, “5…?” “Fuckin hell you need medical treatment…”

If you’re falling off to sleep then he’ll keep you awake by teaching you some Scottish slang. “So you’re telling me that Elizabeth or Lizzie is slang for…coffin dodger?” “Or old cunt.” “I will be sure to use that more often now.” “Aye but do be careful of who you’re saying it around. You know how Brits get.” “……”

Gets Price to put you on probation even if the injuries aren’t serious. He’s just not taking any chances.

Gaz

“You broken?”

Panic mechanic Gaz.

Acts on his knee jerker responses to which needs Price to hold him back and keep him in check.

Threw tear gas through the vents and came through the roof opening fire. Couple of knives went through eyes, one of them nearly hit you. So much for a rescue mission.

Gaz would probably stare at you if you’re unconscious to see if you’re breathing or not. Gets up real close to your face, “Okay good, you’re still alive.” He was just afraid to be the one to collect your dog tag so he didn’t want to check your pulse.

Doesn’t have enough muscle mass to pick you up so would either drag you out of danger or let you lean on his shoulder.

Gaz is definitely the type to over bandage you, “Can never be to safe than sorry.” You looked mummified after he’s done with you.

Will let you sleep on his lap if he found you unconscious, after every 5 minutes he put a finger below your nose to check if you’re still breathing.

If he found you awake he tries his best to keep you awake, “Hey buddy, keep your eyes open or else you’re going to die.”

Doesn’t sugarcoat, tells you exactly what injuries you have, “I think your knee is dislocated, do you want me to relocate it now?” “Sergeant, please don’t.” Will relocate it anyway.

Tells you about his life story and how he got recruited into 141, “I was born at a very young age.” He really tries to lighten the mood.

Threatens to shatter your kneecaps if you don’t take at least 5 weeks off.

[mvltisstuff]

Evan Buckley x female reader - tsunami episode - they have been dating for 4 years and Buck has recently proposed, reader and Buck spend a day on the pier with Christopher but they soon get caught up in the tsunami. Reader gets injured badly (hit her head/unconscious/broken bones etc) and Buck struggles to find her and panics. Some hospital scenes with Buck and reader and 118.

angst, injuries(if ur comfortable too write about it), heartbreak, fluff 🫶🫶

waves - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

a/n: you guys always have such good ideas istg… so funny story i was gonna finish this last night but i was drunk so i couldn’t 😁

every time her eyes were forced open, y/n was faced with a new horror in front of her. the murky grey water full of debris scratching against her skin. the stinging salt water in her eyes and lips. the salt from the sea diving into her scrapes. the feeling that she was drowning and there was nothing she could do to stop it. the ocean has always been scary, but it’s never scarier than when you’re in the center of its wrath. she came up for air, only to take one deep breath before being forced under the surface again. she’s a good swimmer. she knows she can swim, but no one prepares you for a wave from hell in swimming lessons.

y/n and buck had taken christopher out for the day, trying to get buck more involved after his accident. they went to the pier, the arcades, anything that christopher suggested they did.

they were supposed to go to the movies. to see a film, but the only thing they saw now was pure calamity in front of them.

she didn’t think buck could take much more pain and uncertainty in this world. he’s the toughest man, but even the toughest soldiers can fall. y/n’s concern for him had peaked. his life felt empty when he didn’t have y/n or the 118. he loved working more than anything, saving people ended up saving him.

he knew y/n before she even started working at the 118. they had been in the same training program, and y/n was eventually transferred to los angeles. buck was so fond of y/n. he loved her more than anyone, which frightened him but also made him filled with electricity. she was alluring, talented, and the sweetest person he’s ever known. she showed him love when he needed it.

so, the ring was in his apartment, shining in one of the hidden compartments in his closet. he was certainly prepared to whip it out and spend the rest of his days next to y/n, but then, a kid with some bombs took over. the engine was on top of buck before he could take a breath, and all his plans to propose were thrown away. it was now or never, he thought, laying on the stretcher. he’d switched from gut-wrenching wails to a solid “marry me.”

now, y/n looked for buck wherever, but the shore had become one with the whole city. the pier was gone, and she didn’t know if buck and chris were too.

she was being shoved across the water, her body being smacked with incoming debris. her head made contact with a slab of concrete that the wave had taken up. after, she’d made contact with another piece that sliced through the side of her abdomen, leaving a clean gash that was releasing a spill of blood. before she knew it, the the water was cold, but she started to feel warmer by the minute. the water around her started turning red, and her face became paler as she accepted her fate. she wanted buck to be there to save her. she wanted to be able to save herself, but the aggression of the water made it near impossible. she allowed her frail body to wash up on top of a white delivery truck, laying there with her maroon blood smeared on the top of the truck.

she was transformed into survival mode, thinking of anything she would be able to do without killing herself even more. she was able to reach for a piece of sopping fabric, pressing it securely against her belly where the massive slash was. there was nothing to be done for her head as the damage had already been done. she’d be damned if this tsunami killed her, but as long as she knew buck was out there, she was going to fight like hell.

buck felt completely lost. he was settled on top of a fire engine, christopher being cradled in his arms as they faced the disaster together. they were the only two people on bucks mind, y/n and christopher. at least he knew where christopher was, but he was separated from his fiancé the moment the wave flooded the pier.

buck tried to stay positive, he really did. but, seeing all the bodies float past limply brought his spirits down. he knew that he would be okay, but the woman who’s the center of his universe could be dead. buck thought nothing could hurt more than his accident. on the contrary, the thoughts in his head during these moments of his life hurt more than any physical pain he’s experienced.

buck stayed silent, not wanting to scare christopher but the boy had his own questions. “how come y/n is gone?”

“she, um, she got lost in one of the waves, pal,” buck mumbles, trying to contain himself from completely breaking down. “we’ll find her when this is over, alright?” buck wishes he had a more firm answer, but there is nothing in this environment that is stable. no one knows a single thing that could or couldn’t happen.

suddenly, everything turned to nightmare fuel. christopher had fallen, and was swept away by the harsh flow. buck screamed his name, jumping in after him and searching for him anywhere. he swore his heart stopped, watching the exhausted boy fall into the unknown pit of water. everything had become a blur to buck. he didn’t even care about anyone else as long as christopher went home to eddie, and y/n went home with him.

bucks heart fell with eddie’s face as their reunited with each other at the hospital. he was carrying the weight of two missing people, feeling like it was only his fault. he wanted y/n there so bad, he so badly wanted her to hold him and say it’ll all work out in the end. y/n was gone, and buck had no fucking clue because now, she could be anywhere. he loves her more than anything on this planet, and a wave can’t change that.

buck continued to notice the shallow breathing of eddie, the pure horror on his face as he might’ve lost the person he adores most. there’s no pain like losing a child, and buck could never live with himself if he didn’t save christopher. alas, when eddie’s eyes directed to behind bucks cut and dirty body, he saw his son wrapped up in a warming blanket. buck felt like complete shit.

he knew he saved christopher, and he was thrilled beyond words. but where was y/n? he had to know. the sun had already set and if she wasn’t found, she was probably dead. the word rang through bucks brain, repeating itself over and over like a monster under the bed. she’s the best thing that ever happened to him, and he never guessed that it would shoot him in the foot until now.

“buck!” bobby yelled, beginning to walk over with hen and chimney as eddie sprinted to his little boy. “hey, what’s wrong, kid?”

buck could barely formulate words, the heaving in his chest was too strong to hold anything else. he panted while spitting out y/n’s name. “i cant find her, guys i tried so hard but we just got separated so fast-“

“alright, buck hang in there,” hen says, placing her hand on his shoulder in an attempt to ease him. “we’re going to look around, ok?” buck nods, knowing that this isn’t easy for them either. y/n was the light at the station, being able to cure a bad day and always making every glad to be at work. she made it the best experience, and she became their best friend outside of work too. they’d lose a coworker, but they’d lose a member of their family above all else.

buck storms around the parking lot in the triage areas, desperately begging them for her name. “do you have a y/n here? y/l/n? ive been to all of the other ones and if she’s not here i don’t know what to do.”

“she’s not on my list, sir. i’m so sorry, but have you checked the black tents?” the sad woman asks, acknowledging the tarp that was decked with body bags. buck stared at them, like they became the only thing in the world.

“i- i cant-“ buck breathes, turning around to break the contact.

“i know, you’re ok, buck,” hen speaks, as buck falls into her arms, his knees barely holding any support of his body. he tries to match henrietta’s breathing, her comforting voice soothing his ears. he tried to ignore everything around him, but the aggressive sirens of another ambulance and the lights illuminated the teams faces.

he watched as the two paramedics opened the doors, revealing another on next to a womans body, squeezing the air into her lungs with the bag. buck knows. he sees her damp hair on the stretcher, the hair loves and admired every day. he sees her crimson-stained outfit, the one he complimented her on this morning. lastly, he sees her beautiful face, the face he could never forget. he wants to sprint over to her, but his feet are planted on the ground. he has no more fight left to give, and he lets himself fall to the ground in exhaustion.

the next time his eyes peel open again, buck is sitting behind a curtain, an oxygen mask around his head and a bottle of water being handed to him. “drink this,” bobby demands.

“thanks,” buck replies.

“don’t thank me. you did great work out there today, buck. i’m proud of you.”

“thank you, cap,” buck twists the cap off, starting to take sips of the water. “please tell me i wasn’t dreaming when i saw y/n.”

“you weren’t. she’s in surgery now. she had a pretty nasty laceration on her head, and an even worse one on her abdomen. they’re thinking it hit her appendix, so they’re going in to take it out before it causes more harm than good. they did a few test on her as well,” buck hisses at bobby’s words, not wanting to hear anymore but needing to know. he didn’t know if it was good or bad, but he had to know. “she has a severe concussion. she’ll probably be disoriented and confused when she wakes up, and surely in pain. buck, hey,” bobby notices the man starting to zone out. she’s still hurt, and it’s not enough for buck. he wishes he could put a force field around her, wanting to take the force of anything that might hurt her. knowing that this out of the ordinary thing almost took her life pains him beyond injury.

“s-sorry,” buck whispers. “i want to see her when she’s out of surgery.”

“you can, but i need you to know that it’s going to look bad. she’s going to be intubated and definitely banged up. you have to know that she’s going to be ok. so, say it,” bobby tells him.

“what?”

“say she’s going to be ok.”

buck gives him a confused look, trying to contain the waves of his own tears as he utters the words out. “she’s going to be ok,” before he knows it, the dam breaks and bobby’s hugging buck, comforting him from the emotions that have taken over.

the minute buck gets the confirmation to see his girl, he’s passionately walking down the hallway of the ICU, scanning the rooms for the only one he cares about. scarily, bobby was right. it looked bad. she had cuts through her cheeks and her shoulders, even passing through her eyebrows and forehead. she had a thick bandage around her abdomen, protecting the incisions on her stomach. the lights were dimmed, protecting her eyes from hurting her head even more. the tube down her throat was a haunting sight for buck to see, realizing that she could barely do it on her own.

he sat in the chair next to her, anxious to even graze her hand. he just watched her chest rise slowly and sink down again, next to the hissing of the machine. and he stayed there. he couldn’t bring himself to leave her side again. he lost her once, it wasn’t happening again. so, buck sat next to her until her anesthesia wore off. some people might’ve thought he was a statue, the way he didn’t rip his eyes off of her.

the doctors came in a while later when y/n started breathing over her tube. she was still sleeping, but she was breathing on her own. buck knew she could, he knew this wouldn’t be the thing to take them apart. the worlds had it’s go at trying to separate buck and y/n, but it never works. until death do them part, literally. buck looked at the ring on her finger, almost forgetting that they’re planning a wedding. he’d been given the ring from the nurse, who took it off before her scans. he was the first one to put it on her finger, so he did it again.

the 118 had piled into her room, eddie bringing christopher to his tías house to spend time with her. he came back when he heard about y/n. buck just saved the life of his son, and y/n saved bucks life before he even knew it. the entire team knew it. they needed her to be ok, or work would truly never be the same.

she’d worn off the anesthesia a few hours later, looking at her family surrounding her.

“hey, baby,” buck smiles, still dressed in his muddy clothes. “i know it hurts, it’s ok.”

“what happened?” she asks, rasp in her voice.

“there was a tsunami, y/n. it got you pretty good, too,” bobby added, standing at the edge of her bed. “you fought that pretty good, y/n. they said it was pretty ugly when they found you.”

“yeah, i remember,” she squints. “but why am i here? shouldn’t i be at work soon?” buck gives his captain a confused look.

“she’s just confused, buck. it’s the concussion, don’t worry about that,” eddie whispers behind buck into his ear.

“do you remember seeing anyone or anything?” hen asks.

“i remember being scared, for buck and c-christopher. i thought they were dead for a little, and i thought i was next. but i couldnt just drop there and give up on them.”

buck noticed her exhaustion, from the pain medicine and just the stress of her disorientation. “you should get more sleep, honey. you’re gonna need it.”

“bucks right. we can come back to see you tomorrow, y/n,” hen stands. “we love you, y/n. you did good.”

“you’re tough, y/n, you’ll be alright,” chimney adds, patting her hand and starts to clear out of the room.

“don’t go, buck,” y/n says, grabbing his hand with her eyes shut tightly.

“i’m not going anywhere, y/n/n. you’re stuck with me,” buck tells her, leaving a kiss on her hand and he sees the corner of her lips rise with it.

[milaisreading]

Your toddler sized Manager was a masterpiece 👌

But what about the blue lock boys turning into toddlers or one of them and The manager has to take care of him/them. The others would be so jealous in the second scenario!!!

Thx for reading.

Have a good day😘

Author: I saw smn request a similar thing so I hope the person who requested it will like this one! Thank u for the request and I hope u enjoy the story too🩷

Warnings ⚠️: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open.

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to:Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

"Ahhhh!" (Y/n) yelled as as Bachira and Kunigami tried to shut her up.

It was around 8.15 in the morning and (Y/n) was told to wake up the guys, since they weren't responding to Ego's or Anri's calls. The girl didn't think much of it, thinking the boys might be tired and just overslept or went to sleep right after the first call. But as she approached the room, she wasn't so sure about her assumptions, since their room was getting louder and louder. The girl sighed, mentally preparing herself as she grabbed the handle.

'What happened now? Did someone steal Aryu's haircomb...did Bachira kick someone while waking up?'

The girl opened the door, revealing the whole team shouting at each other.

"(Y/n)?! Please go out!" Aryu yelled nervously, causing the arguing to stop and they all looked nervously at her.

"What is this mess? Ego-san will be mad that you aren't out of your room. What are you all even yelling about?"

There was a short silence as (Y/n) raised her eyebrow at Gagamaru, who was shielded by Baro oddly enough.

"Did you guys break something? Also-" The girl furrowed her eyebrows as she looked at everyone who was present in the room.

"Where is Niko? Did he already leave for breakfast?"

"That's kind of the thing..." Karasu laughed nervously.

"Niko is... he isn't himself right now." Reo said as he looked at Rin for some support.

"Yeah, he is... not quite there yet." The captain said.

"What?! Is he sick?! What even happened?" (Y/n) went into a panic mode, thinking he might be injured or something.

"Calm down, it's nothing serious... I think. It's just that he is a little off." Isagi explained.

"Then where is he? He might need medical attention or something." (Y/n) pressed on further as Chigiri butted in.

"It's nothing to worry about, just go and have breakfast. We will be there soon."

"You must be insane..." (Y/n) muttered. Kunigami sighed and got up from his bed.

"He isn't sick, he just changed a little. We will show you, but please don't panic." Kunigami said, ignoring Hiori's protests to the idea.

"Think of it as our secret!" Bachira said, now standing next to (Y/n).

"Ok?" She raised her eyebrow. Baro moved away reluctantly, revealing what Gagamaru was holding... or more like who! (Y/n)'s eyes widened and her jaw dropped at the sight of Niko. A small, toddler sized Niko was held by the goalkeeper. (Y/n) kept quiet as Gagamaru moved the boy closer, giving her a better look at him. Niko was a lot smaller now, looking at (Y/n) with big, blue eyes as his bangs were held back by a hair tie. The boy had a small blush on his face as the girl kept on staring at him, letting out incoherent words from time to time.

"Ahhhh!" (Y/n) yelled out as Bachira kept on shushing her and Kunigami closing the door.

"What happened?! Niko?!" The girl yelled as the boy said some more things.

"We found him like this... I don't know if he drank something off or what." Yukimiya explained as the others started adding in. (Y/n) zoned them out and kept on looking at Niko, who was staring at the girl in wonder.

'Those cheeks... and the eyes... He looks so adorable!' (Y/n) ran over to Gagamaru and took Niko out of his arms.

"(Y/n)? Is she crying?" Kurona panicked, noticing the tears in her eyes. Niko in that moment tilted his head, which sealed the deal for her.

"OH MY GOD! HE IS SO ADORABLE!" (Y/n) yelled, hugging to boy.

"What is this yelling about?!" Ego's voice was heard as his face appeared on the monitor.

"Oh great..." Aryu groaned.

Now, Nagi was never a huge fan of little kids, they cry, throw up, shit and half the time don't even know what is going on. But today, today he was pretty sure was his breaking point. After Ego heard what had happened, he assigned (Y/n) to take care of Niko while he would find a substitute for her as a manager. Now he had to suffer with (Y/n) dotting on Niko, who by the looks of it was having the time of his life.

'Lucky brat, gets to be fed, held and carried by (Y/n). What's next, sleep with her in the same bed?' Nagi shuddered at the thought, taking a bite from his food.

"Here comes the plane~" (Y/n) sang out as she fed Niko. Reo, annoyed at the grin the toddler had, spoke up.

"Hey, let me hold him for you. I am sure you are having a hard time feeding and holding him." Reo suggested, giving Niko a tight smile. The said boy shook his head and hugged (Y/n) tightly.

"It's fine, Reo. I don't really mind." (Y/n) said simply and continued feeding Niko.

"If you want, I can take care of Niko for the day. You can do your duties then." Hiori, who was sitting next to a sulking Nagi, offered. The blue-haired boy tried to hold back his frown at the scene. Niko shook his head at the idea.

"No worries, Hiori. I am glad you offered, but I can manage. You guys focus on football." (Y/n) answered as she wiped some of the food off of his face.

'That brat!' The trio thought.

"Peekaboo!" (Y/n) yelled, uncovering her face as Niko laughed and clapped his tiny hands.

'So adorable!' The girl smiled and wiped her tears away. She continued playing with the boy, not noticing Karasu, Bachira, Otoya and Chigiri glaring at the toddler.

"This is rediculous. Couldn't Teieri-san take care of him? (Y/n) has better things to do than taking care of Niko." Karasu groaned, flinching as he heard (Y/n) laugh again.

'I want to make her laugh too.'

"Yeah, the better things would be her admiring my great skills. How is Niko laughing at random shit better than me?" Otoya said as jealousy started killing him on the inside. Yesterday he came up with a trick he wanted to show (Y/n) today, but now he had to fight a toddler sized Niko for her attention.

"I wonder what it's like to be Niko right now." Bachira sighed.

"Being held, fed, washed and dotted by (Y/n)... must be a great life. I wish I had this experience." Bachira sighed. He was jealous, but more disappointed that it didn't happen to him. Chigiri sent the two a short glance and nodded his head.

"Lucky bastard, I wish that was me. Niko probably saved a whole country in his past life for this privilege." Chigiri stopped talking as the four saw Niko get a kiss on his forehead.

'Why not me?!' They thought.

Now Isagi, Rin, Aryu and Kurona decided to approach everything from a different angle. While they were jealous at the extra attention Niko was getting, they saw it as a great opportunity to show off how reliable they were.

Isagi would offer watching over Niko when (Y/n) needed a toilet break. Something that caused the toddler to huff about, not paying attention to whatever Isagi was saying.

'That little brat is lucky I want to be on (Y/n)'s good side.' Isagi thought with a tight smile.

Rin would offer himself to hold Niko while (Y/n) ate her lunch or dinner, but that ended up with Niko crying in Rin's hold, scared of the glare the captain had on his face. The glare ended up being just Rin's usual expression and (Y/n) decided to just take Niko and eat.

"Thanks for the help, Rin. But I think I can handle it." She said and the boy nodded his head slowly.

"S-sure."

'And mom for real expects me to have kids?' He thought as he watched (Y/n) play with Niko's hair.

Aryu would be there to fix Niko's hair or clothes if it got messy during playtime. (Y/n) was at first grateful for the help, but quickly regretted agreeing when she saw Niko struggle in Aryu's hold. The boy groaned as Niko escaped his hold and ran to (Y/n).

"Thank you for the help... but it seems like Niko doesn't like this arrangement." (Y/n) chuckled nervously as she started fixing up his hair.

"I am sorry... seems like kids don't like me." Aryu chuckled, holding back a groan.

Kurona had the easiest time with Niko, as the boy was a little bit afraid of his shark-like teeth. Kurona would chime in from time to time, offering to give Niko his bottle or carry him around when (Y/n) was tired. It worked... for like an hour and then Niko would just distance himself slowly from Kurona.

'His luck that (Y/n) is here...' The boy thought, glaring at Niko as he gave him his bottle.

Kunigami, Baro, Gagamaru and Yukimiya had the easiest time of holding back their jealousy... I'd say that if I wanted to lie! Kunigami was sulking as (Y/n) kept on taking pictures of Niko, crying how cute he was.

'I am cute too...' Kunigami thought to himself as he sent a glare Niko's way.

Baro would rise his voice from time to time if Niko tried to fall asleep in her arms.

'You won't be cozying up around me.' Baro smirked as he felt Niko glare at him.

Gagamaru would try to be a baby too, which worked on (Y/n) for the most part. Asking her for headpats, asking for her opinions on his saves or new tricks, asking to eat with her and so on. All in all, Gagamaru's jealousy got him the furthest in getting (Y/n)'s attention, although Niko's whining would piss hin off sometimes.

Yukimiya meanwhile straight up glared at Niko, not caring if (Y/n) was in the room or not. The girl would scold him every 20 minutes for scaring the boy, but it's like it flew into one ear and out of the other.

All in all, the day was a success for (Y/n) as she did get a lot of Niko baby pictures. The boys were praying for Niko to be normal by tomorrow. And the boy himself just loved the undivided attention he got that day.

[staytinyville]

OUTLAW (11)

ATEEZ ot8 x Reader

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Assault, Sexual Assault, blood (This chapter is a bit heavier than the past ones. It's probably going to be the only that has graphic scenes such as this one.)

It was that time again in the night when everyone was going home to rest. Yeosang had walked up behind you at the front desk, placing his hand on your waist. You took a glance at his arm, feeling heat seep into your skin from over your dress. Ever since the day you spent with them

“I'll see you two in the morning.” Yeosang told both you and Seonghwa. The older man had the night shift that day so he would be staying. “Goodnight, Honey.” His thumb rubbed against your clothing, a small smile playing on the man’s face. 

“Goodnight, Yeosang.” You told him. “Be careful.”

You were left to count some of the money while Seonghwa read over the guest lists and wrote down who paid their room days. After you finished with what you needed to, you moved around the counter to get on with the last of your things. 

“I'm on trash duty.” You hummed. Seonghwa continued on with his tasks, rubbing a hand on your hip as you both passed each other. With a sigh, you picked up the large bags and begun your trek out to the trash cans. 

While most would have their own trash cans, as a business you had to share with others. And yours was stationed on the other side of the hotel between another building. It took a good 5 minutes in total to reach the alleyway and head back inside. 

Just as you closed the lid to the large trash bin, you heard squeaks and a panicked voice. Walking out of the alley, you glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed. The sun had begun to set earlier than usual so most people were already hiding inside their homes. The crying began to get louder which prompted you to investigate. Walking across the street, you found yourself in the alley across from the hotel. 

Your eyes went wide and air was sucked out of your lungs when you saw three men roughly grabbing a woman. You didn’t stop to think about what to do, you did the first thing that came to mind. That was to shout.

“Hey!” You screamed. “Let go of her!” 

You rushed into the scene, blinded by rage to realize you had quickly formed your hand into a fist and slammed it into one of the men’s cheek. Your rings had helped to aid you in your bout seeing as they caused scratches along the man’s face. Blood began to pool on his skin as he sucked on his teeth. 

The men had paused in their actions of gripping the woman, turning to you. The one you had injured moved a finger to touch his wound, scoffing at the pool that stained his fingers. The other two men had dropped the woman they were holding onto which moved you into action to hold onto her. 

“Run.” You told her, getting your brain to move into flight mode after the adrenaline wore off. You pushed her in front of you, feet scoffing the floor. Just as she took off, someone gripped onto your hair causing you to let out a yelp. “Get away!” You shouted when you saw the girl turn around to look at you. 

You immediately fell to the ground in protest, becoming dead weight for them. You clawed at the hand that was twisting your hair, kicking your legs. “Grab her.” Your eyes shut tight at his words, kicking you feet more as the other two men moved to get your legs. 

You screamed and raised your legs, hitting one man in the nose with the heel of your boot. You hooked your ankle around one of the man’s pulling it towards you to trip him up. They growled at you in frustration, getting angry before pinning you to the floor instead of picking you up. 

“Shit. You just lost us our good time.” The one you punched sneered, coming around to kneel over you. “Now you gotta pay us back.”

Your eyes opened wide when the man pulled out a pocket knife, pressing it into your cheek. You began to breathe hard, panic seizing in your chest. A whimper fell from your lips as the man moved the knife down.  

“Seong-Seonghwa!” You cried meekly, hoping that maybe the man had walked out to find you. You were a good way from the front of the hotel and the way you called out wasn’t loud enough for anyone to hear. 

You could remember the entire of your life in that moment. Tears welled in your eyes as the regrets of things you did and didn’t do came to mind. You had thought you were happy before but looking back on it there was so much you were missing out on. You didn’t get the chance to see more than just Cromer. You didn’t get to learn more lessons that would help you to grow as a person. You didn’t want to give up on those things just yet though. 

“No one's here to save you. Should've minded your business.” The man on top of you laughed. You scrunched up your nose, spitting in the man’s face as the thought of your life ending made you angry. 

“You feisty bitch.” A scream bubbled from your throat as the man nicked at the skin under your jaw. “Not so tough now are you. Look at her, there are tears in her eyes.” He laughed. 

Just as the man’s hands began to touch your leg a gunshot rang out through the area causing you to scream when the man holding your right arm fell over and blood splattered on your face. You squeezed your eyes shut, flinching when another shot rang out and more liquid touched you. You felt the weight of the man on top of you lift off. You didn’t dare to move curling up into a fetal position as your body began to tremble. 

“If you know what's good for you, you'll drop the knife.” Someone rasped out from the entrance of the alley.

Your heart clenched seeing the leather coat that was billowing out with the wind. The hat that covered his pink hair made him look more menacing as the metal on his boots clicked with each step. 

“It's you.” The thug said, sounding scared for his life. “Listen, we can talk this out. No need to get hostile.” He tried to reason. 

“I already killed two of you. What's one more?” You opened your eyes, moving slowly to turn and look at who had come to save you. 

“If you want the girl, you can have-” Mingi didn’t let him finish as he pulled the trigger. You scooted back as the man’s body fell to the side, gasping as your fingers touched the blood that was pooling around you. 

“She's not yours to trade.” Mingi sneered down at the dead man. 

“Mingi.” You whispered, looking up at the man. 

“Doll.” His face softened when he took in your state, quickly leaning down to carefully touch you. 

“Mingi.” You cried, quickly getting to your knees and throwing yourself onto him. 

He used a hand to stabilize himself as you buried your head into his chest, trying to get swallowed up to get rid of the anxiousness. He could both hear and feel your sobs that wracked through your body. Your skin felt cold to the touch as blood tried returning to the normal temperature. 

You suddenly began to shake more, hyperventilating. Mingi wrapped his arms around you tighter, keeping you from moving too much. “Hey, hey.” He soothed, lips ghosting over your ear.  “You're okay. I got you.”

He started to rock you back and forth, pulling you into his lap. There was a scraping sound coming from the alleyway entrance as someone rushed over, coming to a quick stop. “Mingi!” Seonghwa called, rushing towards the two of you. 

He paused as he came up to the dead bodies, sucking in a breath as he noticed the state you were in. As he tried to get past his anger, he tried to pull Mingi up to a stand. You clutched tighter to the man’s clothing, so he picked you up in his arms. 

“Take her to the hotel. Now.” Seonghwa spoke in a rush, hastily pushing you two out the alley. The man took a moment to look around the street before making a run for the hotel lobby. Checking once more to make sure no one was waiting there, he pushed Mingi towards the back room meant for the night shift worker.  

“Put her in bed.” He explained to the outlaw. “I'll go get Yunho and Jongho.”

As Mingi moved to set you down, you only wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him tighter to you. The man sighed with worry, moving around to sit on the bed with you in his lap again. He could feel the blood that was on your finger stick to his skin but he was worried about that when he saw the wound on your neck. 

Anger coursed through his chest as he dropped his head back to calm his racing heart. He moved his thumb up to brush against it, your blood being wiped away. “Doll, I have to treat your wound.” He whispered to you. 

“I can't-can't move.” Your body shook with each word you let out. It was when you stopped speaking that you seemed to tighten up your body to become stiff. Mingi tried to move you around so he could get back up but you only made your body stiff, tightening your fingers around him. 

“Don't leave!” You cried.

“I'm not.” Mingi sighed deeply, lightly brushing his lips against your cheek to calm you down. 

“Is she hurt?” Jongho burst through the door, closely followed by Yunho and Seonghwa. 

“She has a cut on her neck.” Mingi explained. “She won't let me treat it.”

“I'll do it.” Seonghwa moved around the room, going to the medicine cabinet to get what he needed. Jongho had kneeled in front of Mingi, hand brushing over your hair to sooth you some. He cooed at you, lulling you into a numb sleeping state. Yunho walked closer, taking up the space next to his partner. 

“Go check out the bodies before someone else notices.” Soenghwa told the two officers. Jongho looked at his friends reluctantly, but Yunho softly calling out to him had him moving out the room. Seonghwa had bent down to look over your wound.   

“Pretty girl.” He spoke softly. “I need you to move your head.” He rubbed his fingers along your scalp, messaging your head. You were trying to not fall asleep, but the boys made that hard with their way their affection was causing a buzz in your body. Your mind was already in a fragile state so the way they were treating you made you regress back into a space you had no idea you could enter.

You pulled your head to the side, craning your neck to allow Seonghwa room to work. “That's a good girl.” He tried to move quickly around you, softly speaking when you would flinch from the stinging of the wound. When he finished, he stood up, throwing the trash away. 

“Pretty, you have to let Mingi go.” He told you so that you could go to bed already. Mingi looked up at Seonghwa when he felt your fingers clench the collar of his coat again. The older man sighed as he took in your state.

“Stay here for the night.” He told his friend. ”I'll call her family to tell them something came up and she took my night shift.”

You heard his footsteps walking out of the room, your eyes already shut as your body came to a numbing feeling. Your body felt heavy against Mingi, as if the world was pulling you deeper into the ground. The man gripped onto your waist, pulling you with him as he tried to get up from the bed. You tightened up on him again, shaking your head as tears pooled in your eyes once more.

“Hey-Hey.” Mingi soothed, laying down on the bed. “I'm not leaving.” He made himself comfortable, turning to his side with you. You shuffled closer to him, tucking your head under his chin as you pulled the long coat of his around your body. He felt the hiccups of your anxiety attack, his hands pulling you closer. 

“I'm still here.” He whispered, kissing your head. 

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