#feeling like a burden and unimportant...

[heavenfelll]

I try to stay busy to distract myself from how sad and lonely I am, but sometimes it's too much and it just doesn't work...

Today is one of those days. 😞

[biitchofthewild]

.

[fittoniapearcei]

I thought the raise and the relief of some responsibilities from my work load would boost my mood and make it easier to just get through the work day, but if anything, I'm falling more and more into a seriously concerning depression every moment I spend here

[throneofsapphics]

infinitesimal

batboys x reader

summary: upset at your partners forgetting an important date, you run to one of your old haunts.

warnings: angst, injuries, off-screen violence

word count: 2596

a/n: based on this request!

You closed the door behind you, head tilted up to the stars to keep the tears from falling. A full arrangement coated the night sky, constellations and galaxies beyond anything you could feasibly imagine. It made you feel small, infinitesimally small and unimportant in the scheme of everything, but nothing, nothing had ever made you feel as small as the conversation you’d just had. 

Perhaps you hadn’t been together quite that long, just a few decades, perhaps they’d had a lot on their mind, but if it was important to you shouldn’t it be important to them? Maybe it wasn’t fair of you to put your problems on them like this, but with all of the emotions running through and heating your blood, fair was the last thing on your mind. 

They couldn’t figure out why you’d shown up in tears, had acted as if your emotions were a burden. 

Tears glistened at the corners of your eyes as you pushed the door open to the study, where the three of them sat looking various degrees of stressed and tense. Perhaps trouble somewhere in Illyria, that’s what it usually was these days. 

“What is it?” Rhys asked as you studied the table in front of them, snicking the door shut behind you. It wouldn’t stay closed long. 

Your mouth parted, but no words came out. You couldn't. Just the near-unbearable pressure on your chest, threatening to cave you in and suffocate you, bury you alive. 

“Why are you crying?” Cassian, you know he didn’t mean to, probably, sounded irritated. You hadn’t known you were crying. 

Azriel’s head snapped up, so did Rhys’s. A quick scan of their faces showed none of the understanding you’d hoped for, instead showed varying levels of irritation, so you did what was easiest - you left, not bothering to let the door shut gently. Soft voices, but no footsteps, followed you. 

You stormed out through the front gate. You knew how to release some energy, and how to do it in a way they would despise. A way they’d convinced you to quit because it was ‘legally dubiousl’ and ‘dangerous.’ You didn’t care right now. Later, you might look back and think you were an idiot but in this moment it seemed like nothing mattered. 

If your feelings didn’t matter to them, theirs certainly shouldn’t matter to you, but in the back of your mind ... the very back where you shoved them away, they still did. Still haunted you, mocked you, whispered make-believe insults and disparaging comments. Your mind could be a prison, and you were well aware of that. So were they. Were you just some kind of pet for them to fix up and ready to enter society? If that was the case, you'd make sure it was one of the damn hardest jobs they’d ever receive. 

Well aware you were spiraling, you did nothing to stop it and instead let that anger build and ready itself for the next few hours. The timing and date was impeccable, as if this was meant to be. Perhaps it was, and perhaps you shouldn’t have had to give up something you love for them, no matter how bad it was for you. 

-

“Giving her time to cool off feels wrong,” Cassian said. There wasn't any other way he could describe it other than it didn’t seem right and usually his gut instinct was correct. 

“I can practically still feel her anger,” Rhys reminded him. 

‘All the more reason to go after her,’ he thought, but didn’t voice aloud. Maybe he should’ve 

Azriel was pensive in a corner, looking like he’d forgotten something important, or like he was brooding. Perhaps a mixture of both. Asking him what was wrong had only gotten him a non-answer. He didn’t ask again. When Azriel wanted to tell him something, he would. You were the only one who could get away with pushing. 

“So how long do we wait?” He asked Rhys instead, who pinched the bridge of his nose. They were all on edge. Unrest in Illyria always put them in a rather sour mood. 

“A few hours or the night,” Rhys’s answer made Cassian scowl, and he saw Az’s shadows flicker from the corner of his eye, “but she may very well come back before then.” 

“She’s not a child throwing a tantrum,” Azriel said quietly. “There’s something we’re missing.” 

Yes, and it was quite obviously driving him up the wall. Cassian racked his brain for anything there could be, but only drew up blanks. 

He didn’t want to, but he’d listen to Rhys this time because when it came to you, the male was usually right, and knew the correct thing to do. He only hoped that still applied today. Otherwise ... he didn’t want to think about what could go wrong. Right now, all he needed to think about was the fucking papers in front of him. 

He’d read the reports, he always did, but he was really a male made for battlefields. You weren’t a battlefield. Lovely and soft and everything kind and good in this world, he’d move mountains to preserve the sweet spot you brought to his life, and would do near anything in return to sweeten yours. 

Before you he would, internally, mocked the doe-eyed males willing to do anything for their partners before but now ... he loved to say he understood it. 

Drifting, his thoughts were drifting. 

Cassian tapped the pen on the paper in front of him, a habit he knew irritated his brothers but he didn’t care. If it helped him focus now, he'd take their scorn. It kept him from launching into the night sky after you. Surprisingly, they didn’t say a word. 

“I don’t have a good feeling about her leaving like that,” Azriel broke the silence of the last few hours. 

Cassian’s head snapped up. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?” He nearly snarled. Rhys fixed him with a look he pointedly ignored. 

Azriel’s mouth pressed into a tight line and Cassian read the apology in his eyes, one he wouldn’t voice. It didn’t matter, he wasn’t the one owed an apology. 

The next words set his heart into an irregular beat, his throat tightening, his palms sweating, and every nerve standing at ready. Adrenaline. He knew it all too well. 

“My shadows can’t find her.”

His heart jumped to his throat. 

-

You knew it was stupid to come here, but you came anyway. Still, as you stalked through the smoky space, you thought it was stupid because it would disappoint them, not necessarily because you were putting yourself in danger. 

Right now, your own life meant little to nothing to you, and no amount of positive self talk seemed capable of changing that. You’d set yourself on the small course in front of you, and you’d see it to the end. 

You didn’t take into account that others might have a bone to pick with your partners. 

With just enough energy left to leave with your dignity, you emerged from the ring bloodied and bruised but somehow a victor. With the state you were in, it didn’t quite feel like a victory. It took everything for you to keep moving. At least there was enough honor amongst this crowd you were safe enough to leave with a pocket full of jingling gold. 

You’d walked here to clear your mind, but would you have enough energy to winnow home? Fat chance you’d reach out to Rhys to get help. It was winnow or walk. 

The choice was made for you as you exited, spotting someone you weren’t particularly thrilled to see, especially not in your current state. Licking your dry lips, you tried to come up with something anything to say as piercing hazel eyes ripped right through you. 

“Hello,” you said, quite lamely. 

He didn’t reply. Fair enough. 

You shook your head, you didn’t owe him anything. If anything ... well, you wouldn’t go there now. 

“I’m going home,” you said, and stepped into the light, wincing as you realized the shadows covering your face were gone now, and he could see your injuries and embarrassment. The worst part was, this time it didn’t look worse than it was. In fact, it was probably worse than it looked. 

“I'll take you home,” he grunted, concern and anger warring for space in his features. Well, fighting to break through that neutral mask of his. Maybe you were projecting and he actually didn’t give a damn. That was more likely, you told yourself. Life taught you that if you assumed someone would hurt you it lessened the sting when they eventually did. 

“To my apartment,” you insisted, but this time you weren’t feeling too proud to turn down a hand. 

His hand landed on your shoulder, grip just tight enough, like you were some disgusting piece of trash he could hardly stand to touch. Maybe you were nothing more than that to him. The thought tore you into a thousand tiny pieces, the one movement more degrading than them forgetting the entire meaning of this day. 

You never thought one tiny gesture could break you like that, you’d never thought you’d be so weak as to let it, but you let that pain inside, let it swirl inside of you and envelop every bit, let it sting more than the physical pain you were in, more than any physical pain possibly could as shadows swirled around you, whirling you deep into his night and to where or whomever their master desired, you doubted he would actually obey your wishes. 

-

Azriel touched you so delicately because he couldn’t bear to see you in any more pain than you already were, even if it was pain of your own making. He knew the fights were ‘legal,’ although barely sanctioned and hardly tolerated, but he still wanted to find whoever your opponent was that night and rip them limb from limb. Male or female, he didn’t give a fuck. A dark beauty of his job was he treated each gender equally, in his eyes an enemy was an enemy, gender aside. 

He winnowed you directly to your shared home, having already sent word to Rhys the moment you showed yourself. He knew where you’d be, mainly because the fighting rings had clever wards to keep shadow singers out. One of a few places in Velaris that did, and they only popped up when Rhys was gone. His High Lord hadn’t bothered with them yet, but maybe it was time to ask him to do a bit of tampering. For public safety, of course. 

You shoved away from him the moment you landed. His amusement was easily hid at the effect - you stumbling back, him staying perfectly in place. He could’ve teased you, asked where your fighting skills were now, but he knew from reputation and watching that you had a mean right hook and after the words left his lips he’d probably feel inclined to let you punch him. Your next words sobered and cured any amusement lingering in his system. 

“Do you have such little respect for me?” You were genuinely affronted. His mouth pressed into a tight line, any answer he could give felt like a trap. With a scoff, you stalked - no, limped -  away and Azriel was left with the sinking realization that he should’ve said something. You were still in earshot however, hadn’t quite reached the corner. 

“I respect you.” Were three measly words really all he could manage? Speeches and platitudes were more Rhys’s forte. 

“Obviously you don’t,” you swirled around on your heel, swaying. He was there in an instant, eyes scanning you head to toe, searching for more signs of anything amiss. He’d only spotted surface injuries earlier, but it's entirely possible he missed something. Even he could admit that. 

“What’s wrong?” You tried to push him away again, but this time he held on. He wouldn’t let you go - not like this. 

“I’m fine,” you said through gritted teeth, and shoved again. He took a few steps back. 

He wanted to bite back at you, to say ‘obviously not,’ but didn’t bother. A shadow curled around his ear, whispering your lies. Lies you knew. 

“No you’re not. Do you want me to get Madja or Rhys?” 

Something ached inside of him when you hesitated. Yesterday, he could’ve sworn you would say Rhys without hesitation. 

Turns out, they didn’t need to make the decision as a brief whoosh announced the arrival of the male in question.

Rhys observed you, his hands flexed once before he shoved them into his pockets and closed the distance. Azriel felt himself tense, especially as you stood a little straighter, stance widening like you were prepared for a fight. Having felt Rhys’s wave of emotion when he told him where you’d gone off to, you weren’t ready for this fight. Not one bit. Especially not as he heard Cassian land on the balcony. It was easy enough to set his priorities straight. 

“You need healing,” he said, well aware both of the other males could hear, and that it would bite into their anger. Worry for you would always override anger, for any of them. 

“I. Said. I’m. Fine.” 

‘Hurt’ a shadow danced around his ear, whispering, ‘bad.’ 

Bad. 

His shadows never lied. Looking closer at you, he saw the pallor of your skin, the light sheet of sweat he’d originally mistaken as being from your earlier fights. 

“You’re going to pass out,” he said as Cassian strode through the doorway. 

Your eyelashes fluttered. Rhys disappeared, reappearing behind you within the second, arms looping under yours. 

Mouth parted, words trying to form, but you couldn’t get them out. “Don’t you dare say fine,” Rhys still hissed in your ear, before hoisting you up into his arms bridal style. 

Like dogs to a bone, he and Cassian followed you both back to your shared room. 

Azriel scanned the room, eyes stopping on the side table. A glass of water. A necklace. A book, with a … portrait peeking out. 

Carefully letting a shadow mark its place, he slipped it from the papers. 

His stomach dropped. 

Two males, twins, who were obviously close relations to you. Brothers. 

You’d lost both of your brothers to a sickness that had swept through your small village. 

“Rhys,” he murmured and he straightened from where he hovered over you. Night-sky magic monitored your pulse and breathing, and he knew Rhys would be alerted at the smallest change. It wasn't the first time they’d taken care of you like this, it had just been a few decades. 

He silently handed the portrait over, Cassian crossing to take a look at it too. 

“Today was ...” Cassian trailed off. 

“The anniversary of their deaths,” Azriel finished for him. 

And they’d let you run off instead of chasing after you. Azriel crossed the room to stand next to your side, brushing his hand over the soft skin of your cheek. You looked so peaceful, despite the lack of color in your skin. He needed you to wake up, so he could tell you he was fucking sorry and that if you wanted him to he’d chase you to the end of this world and into the next one. 

Still, he couldn’t regret bringing you here instead of to your apartment. The last thing you needed right now was to be alone. 

‘Who are you to know what she needs,’ a nasty voice, not unlike those of his own biological brothers, taunted. 

Nobody. Right now, Azriel was a nobody. 

[01zfan]

anything 4 u | j. sc

brothers bestfriend!sungchan x fem. reader | 9k words

loosely inspired by anything 4 u by LANY. this damn near killed me to write omfg.

contains: arguing, double standards, a little possessive? on both sides, sungchan and the reader are both a little mean. unprotected sex.

anything 4 u: confident | one | two

sungchan was shotaro’s bestfriend. they gravitated towards eachother before they could even walk. home videos showed the two of them crawling side by side as babies.

before you came into the world as shotaro’s sister, sungchan was his first sibling. shotaro was the closest thing sungchan would ever have to a sibling, he was the only child in his house. 

“can you stop messing with her, sungchan?”

when you joined the mix, sungchan wasn’t on board. he discovered jealousy as a toddler, having to share shotaro’s attention with this new thing that cried all the time. sungchan didn’t understand what was so interesting about you, why shotaro wanted to spend all of his time watching you be an annoying baby instead of playing outside. sungchan would complain when his bestfriend would drop everything to go to you when you’d cry. sungchan would complain when they couldn’t play rough with you or that you couldn’t play video games. sungchan would go over to shotaro’s house only to find out he was going to be the plus one at your princess tea parties.

sungchan let his jealousy turn to teasing and he became the first and only person to get away with it. shotaro only watched your interactions and laugh, knowing you’d get him back tenfold. by the time both of you were preteens, you and sungchan had built a relationship that bordered bullying. you always made sure to come out on top, only having to tell shotaro that sungchan was bothering you so he could collect his friend. 

when you two first became teens, sungchan found himself seeing you in a different light. the teasing had started to become forced on sungchan’s part in an effort to hide his emotions. he was able to convince himself that it was normal to feel that way about you from the proximity of being together and how familiar your personality was. but when sungchan was around you he forgot his words and only received your teases instead of dishing them out the way he used to.

by the time sungchan was about to go off to college, he had started to become protective of you. he tried to make his protectiveness logical, blaming it on the fact that he would be going to school away from his bestfriend, like he was compensating for the future knowing he’d be so far away from his friend. sungchan also blamed it on the fact that no one else seemed to notice you were always texting someone on your phone and you coming to the house late at night. sungchan was basically forced took to bare the burden of being your protector and to stop you from making bad decisions.

when you found out sungchan was no longer the immature boy who pulled your pigtails or stole your toys, you found yourself coming to him more. he was able to give you unbiased opinions, and you could tell him about the crushes or failed relationships that broke your hear. he was a familiar face in your life, one you didn’t mind spilling your heart out to. sungchan had found you a couple times crying your eyes out over something unimportant. sungchan followed the sound of your gentle sobs when you thought you were alone, slowly opening your door telling you everything was going to be okay. each time he was comforting and nonjudgemental, letting you get it all out before helping you find a solution.

the relationship you had with sungchan turned into something strange. you found yourself telling him things you could never tell shotaro or anyone you saw as a brotherly figure. at the same time sungchan didn’t feel like just a friend. there was something more when it came to sungchan, something you tried to ignore. you combated the turbulent emotions it by telling sungchan about all your newest romantic endeavors, hoping that it would make you only see him as a friend.

sungchan found out quickly he couldn’t be someone you came to in relation to boys. you had shown sungchan one too many photos of your direct messages, filled with non-deserving boys trying to get with you. the messages all began the same, all of them acting ignorant to the fact that you were shotaro’s sister, or that sungchan was always near you. too many of the faces and named were familiar, some of them even running in the same social circles as sungchan and shotaro. seeing the messages made his blood boil, causing him to accidentally tell shotaro something he wasn’t supposed to know about.

shotaro was surprisingly calm about the situation. sungchan saw his friend be the calmest he’s ever seen when it came to protecting you. shotaro only tilted his head slightly while asking extremely specific questions. sungchan answered calmly, suddenly embarrassed that he seemed more angry about you seeing guys than your overprotective brother was. when sungchan was done answering shotaro’s questions everything was back to normal. the two continued playing basketball like nothing had happened. 

sungchan had almost forgotten what he told shotaro until you came home the next day. the two were playing a game when you stomped through the house screaming their names. sungchan was wide-eyed and shocked, but shotaro was completely calm as he continued to play.

“up here.” shotaro said casually.

sungchan could hear each stomp up the stairs. sungchan had stopped playing, only focused on shotaro’s closed door that he was sure you was going to break down soon. 

you came through the door so fast the door hit the wall and recoiled back. shotaro only looked up after he killed sungchan’s character in the fighting game, looking at his door that slammed against the wall.

“mom is gonna kill you.” shotaro said evenly.

“i’m going to kill you!” your wild eyes locked on sungchan’s, and you brought a finger up to point at him. “then i’m going to kill you!” you yelled.

that’s when shotaro got upset and leapt to his friend’s defense. when shotaro stood up and started yelling back at you sungchan was frozen on the bed with his head on a swivel watching the screaming match in front of him. sungchan had no siblings, so he could never understand how you two were going at it so viciously or loudly. what sungchan understood was to keep his mouth shut as you two went at it. he knew better than to interject and become the new target both of you focused on. 

so sungchan held his tongue, even when he knew shotaro was acting irrationally. he could tell you knew your brother was being ridiculous by the way you let out a deep breath and pinched the bridge of your nose. before you could argue back sungchan saw you give shotaro a simple smile and a head tilt. it was the same expression shotaro gave sungchan when digging for information about your date.

you said nothing else to shotaro or sungchan. you turned around and left, slamming your door behind you. sungchan looked around shotaro’s room to see his pictures on the wall shake. only a moment passed before shotaro went back to the game like nothing happened. sungchan had to act he didn’t just witness the most brutal screaming match he’s ever seen in his life. sungchan only continued playing on the game with his friend, subtlety trying to sneak looks to your closed bedroom door to see if you would come out.

“she’s going to act out like crazy now.” shotaro said.

sungchan had to pull his attention away from your door to his friend. shotaro tried to remain calm, but he could see his friend was visibly bothered. when the round of fighting was over, shotaro turned off the game and rubbed his temples from the stress.

“you know her top pick for college is the place you’re going to?” shotaro asked.

sungchan was the first one you told when you got accepted.

“i had no idea.” sungchan said, shaking his head.

“can you look out for her when she goes there? just until she finds a group of friends?” shotaro asks.

sungchan knew he should’ve said no. you already had friends and you were going to be an adult soon. sungchan had also promised himself that he would stop doting after you when he would leave for college. the distance would do him some good, maybe he’d finally be able to calm his heart when you came around. you were more than capable of making your own decisions, both sungchan and shotaro knew that. but when shotaro looked to sungchan and told him he’s the only person he could trust, sungchan couldn’t say no.

so when you came to campus a year after sungchan, he did what his friend asked him to. he looked out for you and kept tabs on you through mutual friends. sungchan even found himself at the frat parties you would be at on friday nights under the guise of seeing his friends. he wouldn’t drink, knowing that it would be him guiding you and your drunk friends back to the dorms. he had become your confidant, the incident from highschool long forgotten. you knew now sungchan was looking out for your best interest—the man you were going to see that night wasn’t a good person. 

once sungchan found out he was in your good graces again he was wrapped around your finger. he followed you around campus, making sure you got to your classes before he even thought about going to his. he was there for you the moment you called for him, and he found himself taking you anywhere you asked. sungchan put his car to good use, taking you to the store or to pick up food for you. sungchan was able to find an excuse for doting on you, telling himself that it was because he had to look out for you after shotaro asked. 

he only told your brother the good things. you were doing great in school, and you had found a good group of friends. sungchan never dared to tell shotaro that you went to parties in cropped shirts and even shorter skirts, that you were seeing boys, or that he was slowly developing feelings for you.

sungchan was determined to play the long game with you. he never made the first move, never even expected you to reciprocate his feelings. sungchan was happy to just be your guardian angel at the frat parties you frequented, or the person you could come to with your problems. sungchan saw himself as such a constant in your life that you didn’t notice his developing feelings. how were you supposed to know he was doting on you when you’ve been doted on your whole life?

it wasn’t until he laid on the floor of your dorm with you that he couldn’t take it anymore. you were in the middle of telling him about your most recent conquest, some random guy who was your partner for an upcoming project. sungchan sat up suddenly, not looking down at you laying next to him as he spoke.

“i don’t think it’s appropriate for you to tell me about the men you’re seeing anymore.” sungchan said.

you sat up too, not used to sungchan putting his foot down or him telling you no. 

“why not?” you seemed to think for a second before your mind started filling in the gaps of sungchan’s silence. “did you talk to my brother?” you asked.

he defended himself quickly, shaking his head to show you he was being honest. you visibly calmed down before asking your question again.

“i mean i talk to your brother everyday, but not about who you’re seeing.” sungchan said.

sungchan pulled in a deep breath and let it out. he came clean then and there on the floor of your dorm room. he told you about how shotaro asked him to watch after you when you came to campus and how he enjoyed taking care of you a little too much. 

before sungchan could confess his feelings, you did it first. you pulled sungchan in for a big kiss, throwing all of your body weight onto him. he caught you and held you, reciprocating your kisses and smiling when you pulled away. it was wordless your confession, everything communicated through smiles and shining eyes.

from that point on you and sungchan have been in a relationship. everything was the same as usual, except you didn’t go to parties as much and sungchan talked to shotaro a little less. sungchan found it extremely hard to talk to your brother about your life with you in the room. that’s why sungchan was on the phone with his bestfriend now, trying to smack away your teasing and persistent hands that messed with the buttons on his flannel.

“just say you’re busy.” you whisper.

you make sure to say it close enough to the speaker that forces sungchan to crane his body away from you.

“sorry taro i was watching a show. what did you say?” sungchan smiles when he talks to shotaro but turns away from his phone to give you a stern look.  

you hold up your hands defensively like you’re doing nothing. when sungchan’s attention goes back to his phone you go back to messing with him, pulling at the end of his flannel and leaning in to kiss his neck. 

“one second let me pause the show.” sungchan puts his hand over the speaker of his phone and looks at you. “stop it.” he commands.

sungchan’s eyes are large and indignant, trying to get you to listen to him. you try to take sungchan seriously for his sake but you can’t stop yourself from smiling. sungchan trying to boss you around is when you find him the funniest. your smile only grows when sungchan grips both of your wrists with one hand. even as he holds both of your wrists to keep you away from his body he doesn’t use much strength. it’s all for show, both of you know sungchan would crumble to you immediately if you asked. but you humor him, sitting patiently on his lap while he continues talking on the phone. 

sungchan eyes you, still holding your wrists as he listens to shotaro.

“you need me to pick her up?” sungchan looks at you, trying hard to pretend like you’re not in the room. 

“that fancy italian place? no i haven’t been.” sungchan looks at you again when you make a tiny ooh sound. “i don’t know if she’s been shotaro. how am i supposed to know that?” sungchan says.

“okay. we will meet you there at 6:30.” when sungchan sees you shake your head he stops shotaro mid sentence. “actually does 7:30—” sungchan checks your expression and when you give him a thumbs up he nods his head. “does 7:30 work instead?” he asks.

you still sit on sungchan’s lap, messing with the bottom of his flannel as he gets confirmation from shotaro. 

“okay. see you then.” 

when sungchan hangs up his phone you let your hands go underneath his shirt. he lets out a sigh of relief from being off the phone while you draw your breath in. sungchan is solid underneath your fingers, and so warm you find yourself wrapping your arms around his bare waist.

your chest is pressed against sungchan’s when he brings his arms around you too. he kisses the top of your forehead, letting a sigh slip from his lips again.

“we almost got caught.” sungchan says quietly.

“no we didn’t.” you say

you were the complete opposite to sungchan in regards to shotaro. sungchan didn’t know how you weren’t constantly panicking at the thought of shotaro finding out. sungchan knew shotaro well, and he knew that he did not play when it came to you. sungchan’s stomach dropped at the thought of shotaro finding out about the two of you. the betrayal and anger that would cross shotaro’s face winded sungchan. he couldn’t stop thinking about every single terrible outcome possible as the two of you got ready to meet shotaro for dinner. sungchan found himself not saying a word the entire car ride to the restaurant, mentally practicing how he was going to talk to you with your brother around. sungchan put his hands in his pockets to keep himself from reaching for your hand, and he walked in front of you to stop his mind from subconsciously trailing close behind you.

when you and sungchan met shotaro in front of the restaurant, shotaro went to hug you first. whatever playful teasing was happening was lost on sungchan, he was too busy overthinking how close he might’ve been to you. he looked at your hand twitch in between the space of your two bodies. he casually moved, afraid that you were going to grab his hand in front of shotaro. he felt the side eye from you and the confused look on shotaro’s face before he brought sungchan in for a hug.

sungchan was so focused on trying to remain as neutral as possible that the night went by him in a blur. you filled in the silence or the awkward gaps in the conversation that were a result of sungchan not listening. he was grateful for your easygoing personality, but sungchan found himself tipping his head occasionally at you, surprised you weren’t nearly as effected as he was. you were the same version of yourself, no pauses in your words or shrugging your shoulders in confusion. the only reprieve sungchan got from conversation was when the food arrived.

“i hope you guys enjoy the food.” sungchan watched the waitress smile to you and shotaro, both of you nodding your heads the same way. when the waitress got to sungchan she put a hand on his shoulder and pointed at the food on his dish. sungchan’s eyes snapped up to hers as she pointed at the plate. “i put a little extra on your plate for you.” she said, smiling at sungchan.

before sungchan could say anything the waitress was gone. he was left with the with an extra serving of food on his plate with you and your brother staring at him. shotaro had a facetious smile on his face as he continued eating his food—you looked at sungchan with wide eyes and a straight face. he couldn’t stop his face from feeling hot, trying to play off the very obvious flirting. 

“she must’ve seen how tall i am.” sungchan laughed nervously, trying to find a reason for the extra food.

“oh she must’ve.” you scoffed.

shotaro didn’t pick up on the nuance in your voice, how annoyed you sounded. he only laughed, focusing on the attention that sungchan was getting. 

“you’re all red in the face.” shotaro teased.

“no i’m not.” sungchan said back.

sungchan felt like his face was on fire as he could see you progressively get more and more upset. sungchan silently wished for his friend to be quiet, to stop digging sungchan into a hole he couldn’t get out of. the more shotaro talked the more annoyed you became, by the time the waitress came back with the check you were clenching your jaw, wordlessly pushing food around on your plate with your fork. even when the conversation shifted to sungchan catching up with shotaro, you were completely silent. sungchan wordlessly took the initiative to fill in the gaps in the conversation with questions about shotaro’s studies, or how he was adjusting to being away from home. you barely contributed to the conversation, never reacting to sungchan’s quick glances to you when shotaro was occupied with his food.

you knew that sungchan could tell you were pissed off. the way he would shake his head profusely anytime shotaro brought up the waitress  made you blood boil and when he stole quick glances you felt like rolling your eyes. you couldn’t stop thinking about the waitress and the way her eyes lingered, or how she gave sungchan nearly double his serving of food. everything was too obvious, right in sungchan’s face and he actively denied it. he was denying everything for your sake, but you had eyes of your own to see the scene laid out in front of you. you never considered yourself to be the possessive type—you never had to be. arguably the only positive effect of being spoiled was that you never had to greedy or clinging—you never had demand for something if it was handed to you without having to say a word. 

but you had a mean streak when it came to sungchan. he knew it too. he knew that you never had something not go your way. he knew you always got what “rightfully” belonged to you and never settled for anything less. but here sungchan was, blushing and shaking his head bashfully while a waitress blatantly flirted with him in front of you. a voice in the back of your mind that you’ve never heard whispered to you that sungchan liked the attention. the thought made bile brew in your stomach and the anger almost pushed you to stab your fork through the plate in front of you.

“i think we should get the check.” sungchan looked at you pushing food across your plate, a majority of it was untouched. he could see your jaw clenching and he could feel your legs becoming restless underneath the table. “it’s getting kinda late. i have a class early in the morning.” sungchan says to shotaro.

sungchan almost feels bad seeing the confusion flash across shotaro’s face, but he knows it’s time to go. sungchan was unsure how much time he had left in this restaurant before the hole he accidentally dug himself into was too deep. shotaro understood, motioning for the check to the waitress. sungchan ducked his head when he felt her gaze on him. unfortunately for sungchan you saw it all, following the waitresses line of sight straight to the side of his head. 

sungchan couldn’t bring himself to meet your gaze while the check came. he focused solely on shotaro, head resting on top of his clasped hands as his own legs started becoming restless. when the waitress placed the check between shotaro and sungchan, sungchan failed at snatching the paper before shotaro could. his eyes glossed over the prices of the dishes, instead focusing on the tiny note written at the bottom. shotaro elbowed sungchan playfully, and sungchan tried to telepathically get shotaro to not say anything else.

“sungchan, she left her name and number on the receipt for you.” shotaro whispered to sungchan.

shotaro was amused by the sight, showing the paper to sungchan. before shotaro could show the receipt to you sungchan quickly snatched it from his hands. shotaro let out a small sound of surprise, raising his eyebrows comically when sungchan shook his head.

“she handed the receipt to you, so it must’ve been for you.” sungchan said quickly.

shotaro shook his head and you were so close to losing it you smiled and laughed to yourself briefly. never in your life would you have thought you’d be in this situation. you felt insane and sungchan quickly put his card in the folder to pay. he pulled out cash to tip instead, too afraid to take the pen to the paper.

“she was definitely flirting with you.” shotaro said when the waitress circled back around to collect the form of payment. “i mean look at how much food she gave you.” shotaro continues.

“it wasn’t very good though,” sungchan looks to you legs crossed in the seat, eyes wandering around the dining area apathetically. “right?” sungchan asks you.

you only shrug your shoulders, letting out a sigh as you scratch at your scalp. sungchan turns to your brother, not reacting to your extremely obvious annoyance. shotaro only focuses on sungchan, side-eyeing him when the waitress comes back. when sungchan sees you looking away he puts up his hands frantically motioning him to stop. when you look back to sungchan, shotaro gives him an extremely obvious wink. sungchan sighs and puts his reddening face in his hands. 

“hope to see you guys again!” the waitress calls after the three of you while you walk to the door.

“you will!” shotaro says playfully.

sungchan continues to walk, speeding up to try to make it to the door of the restaurant before you can. before sungchan can open the door for you, another man beats him to it. the biggest smile you’ve had all day adorns your face, and your eyes do a quick look up and down of the man holding the door open as sungchan stands directly behind you.

“thank you.” you say.

your voice is saccharine, and your eyes invite the man to look you up and down the same way. the man doesn’t spare sungchan a glance as your face takes up the lens of his sunglasses.

“you’re welcome.” the man says back.

the moment is quick, flying past shotaro as he falls behind sungchan. however sungchan freezes in front of the door then and there, replaying the moment in his mind. the candied looks and the complete turn in your mood at the drop of a hat. the honeyed look the man got is nothing like the glares sungchan got all night, and the sweet demeanor is nothing like the closed off girl that stands in front of the restaurant looking back at sungchan in annoyance. shotaro bumps into sungchan, complaining about him stopping the flow of traffic. sungchan ignores his friend, letting the quick burst of jealousy fire off in his brain. it intensifies and mellows out at the same time as sungchan clenches his fists, following shotaro as he brings you in fro a hug. 

sungchan can still see the unmistakable sour look on your face soften for the second time, your previously crossed arms open to hug shotaro back. the straps of your purse are still caught in your white knuckle grip, and you purposely avoid looking at sungchan as shotaro sways you back and forth. sungchan turns his head to face the night breeze, maybe the calm weather could calm him down.

“what are your plans for the rest of the night?” shotaro asks.

sungchan looks to you as you answer the question. he can see the gears in your mind turn, and he swears he can see the smallest smile flash across your face before your lips turn to a pout.

“i’m tired. i wanna to go back to campus.” you complain.

“what’s wrong?” shotaro stops in the middle of the parking lot, putting his hand to your forehead to check for your temperature. “are you feeling sick?”

sungchan has to remain benevolent, acting like he doesn’t feel your piercing gaze as look directly at him.

“i’m feeling very sick.” you put your hand over your stomach. “like i might throw up, actually.” you say.

shotaro is instantly worried, asking about food poisoning and asking you if anything tasted bad. sungchan looks at you making a scene in front of your brother, indirectly complaining about something sungchan couldn’t control. sungchan was able to be calm and levelheaded when it came to you, but sometimes your spoiled attitude cut through the patience. the way you looked to your brother with fake pain made sungchan scoff out loud.

“dramatic.” sungchan said under his breath.

you smiled to yourself when shotaro snapped his head to face sungchan. 

“look who’s talking.” you sneer.

sungchan felt like he was a kid again, rolling his eyes and stomping his feet at shotaro babying you. maybe sungchan was jealous that he couldn’t be the one doting after you, holding your purse in one hand while checking your temperature with the other. but he put himself in the position of being only your brothers annoyed bestfriend, so he was going to act like it.

shotaro played his role well too, stopping the two of you before you could start bickering. shotaro looked between the two of you, stern as he told sungchan to take you back to campus. sungchan fake protested—all three of you knew it was just for show. sungchan only crossed his arms across his chest before nodding his head silently. shotaro smiled and pinched his sungchan’s cheek, talking about how good of a friend he is.

“i gotta start driving back now before it gets too late.” shotaro says.

he hugs both you and sungchan, hoping that you feel better after a long rest. sungchan has to convince shotaro you’ll be alright, going the extra step to say he’ll pick you up medicine from the store if you still feel sick. shotaro thanks his friend before pulling him in for another hug. you two walk shotaro to his car to send him off.

“drive safe.” you say to shotaro.

“text me when you get home!” sungchan tells shotaro before he shuts the door.

both you and sungchan wave shotaro off as he backs out of the parking spot. you continue to wave, even long after his car disappears down the road.

almost immediately, sungchan tries to put a cautious arm around you. you look up at sungchan with your meanest look, shrugging his hand off your body as you start walking towards his car.

you can hear sungchan sigh as he starts to follow behind you, still keeping a hand close to your back incase you stumble in your heels. you looked uncomfortable in them the whole night. if you would’ve let sungchan he would’ve gladly picked you up and carried you to the car. he still opens the door for you despite you trying to beat him to it, and you have to pull the seatbelt from sungchan’s hands to stop him from buckling you in.

when sungchan gets in the car and puts the key in the ignition, neither of you say a word. you hope that sungchan doesn’t speak before you have the chance to calm yourself down. you close your eyes, to try and muster up the last bit of understanding in your body to not snap at your boyfriend. when you close your eyes all you can see is the waitress, how she flirted with sungchan and he did nothing to stop it.

when sungchan doesn’t pull out of the parking spot you open your eyes. when you hear him pull his keys from the ignition you start to get irritated. when sungchan clears his throat, you practically have smoke coming from your ears. 

“it’s not my fault a girl flirts with me.” sungchan says.

your eyes widen, indignation across your face.

“it actually is your fault.” you say.

now it’s sungchan’s turn to look upset, eyebrows furrowing as he looks at you confused.

“what did you want me to do?” sungchan asks.

“maybe not pretend like you don’t notice? she was practically fucking you in front of me.” your voice starts bouncing off of the walls in the car.

sungchan’s eyes go wide and he laughs in shock, mouth open in amusement at your dramatics.

“you know you’re being ridiculous.” sungchan laughs.

hearing sungchan call you ridiculous makes the remaining bits of your patience crumble. before you know it you’re pointing an accusatory finger in sungchan’s face, your manicured nail almost poking his nose.

“you’re the one that won’t even tell my brother we’re dating!” you yell.

“he’s my bestfriend!” sungchan says, raising his hands in defense.

“but you’re my boyfriend!” you draw your hand back,fingers flat agaisnt your palm as you feel the car heating up. “what if i flirted with a waiter or went out with the guys shotaro has tried to hook me up with?”

you point is proven when sungchan has a visible reaction. he can’t help it, the way his eyes close and his mouth dips in disgust. he didn’t even realize he reacted until you pointed your whole hand at him.

“so that’s what’s ridiculous.” you say.

when sungchan says nothing back, your anger starts dipping. it turns into defeat, and the adrenaline leaving your body at such a fast rate causes you to you lean against your seat. you’re defeated, between the dinner and your unregulated emotions getting the best of you, you’re suddenly exhausted. you only lean your head against the window, staring outside as you feel the stone forming in your throat.

“just take me home, sungchan.” you say quietly.

he hears you clearly, putting his keys back in the ignition before silently pulling out of the parking lot. 

the drive back home is silent. songs play from the speakers of sungchan’s car, many of them are songs that remind him of you. he feels sick seeing you upset, leaning your head against the window not saying a word to him. you won’t even look at him, your eyes trained on passing building and stoplights. sungchan almost wishes that you’d yell at him, that you would let it all out. but he only continues to drive, the hand that would usually be on your thigh grips the steering wheel hard.

the closer sungchan got to campus, the more he felt that sinking feeling in his stomach. his mind went to the worst possibilities—you calling it off or making him choose between you and shotaro. when sungchan pulled in his reserved parking spot, he felt like he was going to be sick himself. 

sungchan didn’t know that the sick feeling in your stomach dissipated a long time ago. the migraine you got from your frustrations melted and traveled to your stomach, making your whole body feel warm. you didn’t know what to do with the jealousy and the possessiveness you felt for the first time tonight. when you noticed the empty spaces in the parking lot of students that went home for the break your mind started to wander. the feeling in your stomach turned to something that churned and pulled you towards sungchan when you noticed the deep tint of his windows. 

sungchan was too busy turning the engine off, trying to figure out how to get you to speak to him. he turned his key, hand still on the ignition as he turned to you.

“and what about you,” sungchan looks over to you. “treating shotaro like an attack dog still after all these years.” he says.

sungchan watches you take in his words through one ear just for them to fall out of the other. you’re spoiled and can never admit when you’re wrong. it’s shotaro’s doing but sungchan is no better, your attitude comes from years of everyone around you giving you what you want. sungchan remains steadfast, refusing to back down to your irrational anger. but he doesn’t see the anger in your eyes when you look to him. he sees a playful glint, and he feels your eyes look him up and down. sungchan subconsciously straightens his posture, letting silence fill the car again. 

you mess with the locks on sungchan’s door, slowly switching back and forth. the sound makes sungchan feel uneasy, how slow and constant it is as you very clearly think about something. he remains still in the drivers seat, trying to not falter. sungchan only lasts a second before looking back to you and clearing his throat.

“you’re really just not going to say anything?” sungchan asks.

sungchan feels the hair on the back of his neck raise when he sees the smile on your lips.

“get in the backseat.” you said from your spot. 

sungchan remains still, looking to you in disbelief. at a time like this, in the middle of a fight in the student parking.

“we need to talk about this.” he says.

sungchan believes that he still has authority. he can be mean when he has to be. although sungchan’s sternness is fleeting he believes that he can channel it when necessary. but the way you look at him with glossy puppy eyes reminds him why you’re so so spoiled

“can’t we talk in the backseat?” you pout.

sungchan wasted no time, barely looking at the mostly empty parking lot as he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. he pulled on the backdoor handle twice impatiently, waiting for his car to automatically unlock. 

when his car finally decided to listen, he clambered into the backseat, laying across the cushions like he has so many times before. when your relationship was new and your roommates were nosy, the only option you guys had was the backseat of his car. what was awkward at first turned to second nature, and then it became a rarity when sungchan got his own place. but now here he was, shirtless waiting for you in the backseat like old times. the only difference was that you stayed in the front instead of clambering over the seats impatiently to follow after him. sungchan looked to the back of your seat, already feeling an ache in his pants from the anticipation and tension from the night.

“babe?” sungchan called out. 

you moved in the front seat, causing the car to slightly shake. sungchan was filled to the brim with excitement, reaching for the button on his pants to push his jeans down. when his jeans were pushed down to his thigh he saw your pretty manicured hand—paid by him—reach to to the backseat. your panties hung by the end of your nail, dangling in the space by sungchan’s face. before they could fall to the floor he grabbed it a little too quickly, balling it up in his hand and bringing it to his face.

although he couldn’t see you he could hear you scoff and say some degrading word that made him twitch in his pants. 

sungchan wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was nasty when it came to you. he liked licking his cum off your body to clean you up. he liked pulling you up after you sucked his dick and tasting himself on your lips. he liked making a mess of you when you were together, and he liked stealing your panties when you weren’t looking to keep them for himself. he liked smelling you after a long day after work, taking in big huffs of you as you bashfully hit his shoulders. he liked rutting his dick pathetically against your body. he liked doing those things because when he did it you’d look at him with that almost disgusted glint in your eye and call him a freak. he wore it like a badge of honor. he was a freak for you and you alone—your freak. so when he heard his title fall from your lips, all he could do was nod his head. you finally came into his view, body hunched as you made your way over the center console. 

sungchan reached his hands out to help you, one hand still holding your bunched panties. he clutched the fabric a little tighter when you declined his help.

you sat on the other side of the car, completely silent. sungchan could feel his pupils shake. he swallowed thickly as he waited for your next move.

“are you going to keep those for yourself?” you mocked.

sungchan nodded, realizing he couldn’t see the disgusted look in your eyes well enough. he stretched to turn on the light in the backseat, illuminating the space. he could see your foot propped on the seat while the other was planted on the floor. your legs being spread gave sungchan an almost clear view of your cunt, only obstructed by the fabric of your dress that laid between your legs. sungchan squeezed your panties in his hand while licking his lips.

“come over here, princess.” sungchan said.

sungchan settled against the door and spread his legs, trying to look as inviting to you as possible. he even went the extra mile to throw in your nickname, one that he used to tease you with until you would raising your voice at him. you thought about it, eyes raking down his body before you shook your head.

“i don’t think you deserve it.” you say simply.

while sungchan shifted in his seat abruptly, you were calm and collected. you started by slowly working your hands from your knees. sungchan clenches his hands at his side, seeing you tease yourself the same way he always does. when you reached the ends of your dress you teasingly lifted it up, giving sungchan a quick peak of you. when he reached forward to touch your inner thigh you smacked his hand. the sound of you disciplining him echoed off the walls of the car. sungchan recoiled and audibly whined before going back to leaning against the door.

“what’s gotten into you?” sungchan said.

you always had the habit of bossing sungchan around, it’s been that way since you both were young. but the one time you were obedient and listened to what sungchan told you and pliant in taking whatever he gave you was during sex. the two of you came to the agreement that sungchan was more than capable of taking care of the both of you, because his pleasure was entirely too dependent on yours. he liked seeing you get weak underneath him and he liked having to take you the rest of the way when your body failed you.

but this was different. 

you had told sungchan so many times breathlessly that you liked when he grabbed you, you liked seeing how you seemed to fit perfectly in the palm of his hand, even if your flesh spilled out between his fingers. sungchan has seen your eyes screw shut from pleasure because of touches that were light as a feather. so sungchan had no idea why you were denying yourself the pleasure of being touched by him. he was forced to watch you sit across from him as you lifted up the bottom of your dress. you subjected him to watching you slip a small finger into your cunt, forcing him to see and hear you whine from frustration when you realized it wasn’t enough.

“i told you that you don’t deserve it.” you added another finger, and sungchan watched you try and bend your fingers the same way he did when he was inside of you. “you don’t even act like my boyfriend.” you pouted.

sungchan kept his hands tucked underneath his thighs, nails digging into his skin. he shook his head like an idiot when he saw your mind try to comprehend why you weren’t getting what you wanted.

“i’m your boyfriend baby, i promise.” sungchan squeezed your balled up underwear in his hand as you unskillfully fingered yourself. “touch your clit too.” sungchan said, nearly drooling.

you snapped out of your haze instantly. sungchan’s eyes that were honed in on your cunt went to you face. when he saw your narrowed eyes he showed apology immediately through his widened eyes. when he saw that you stopped fingering yourself completely he felt his heart drop, and when you pulled your fingers from yourself he pouted deeply.

“i know how to masturbate, you fucking idiot.” you seethed. your tone was harsh but your body shook, the after waves of pleasure running through you.

sungchan nods quickly, biting his lip at your insult. the way your words cut through him with the airy tilt from stimulation has sungchan aching in his pants. he presses against the fabric of his underwear, he has to shift and move his jeans down his leg further to allow for more space.

“i’m sorry baby. i just want to help.” he apologizes.

you go back to your show, smiling at your pliant boyfriend. the one who was so adamant about standing up for his wrong opinion was malleable before you, doing anything you wanted with just a simple look. all you had to do was press your finger to your clit and look to sungchan’s bare thigh before he was hastily pushing his jeans down his legs. when you opened your legs a little wider sungchan nearly tripped over himself to put hands on your body.

sungchan saw every part of you call to him—your chest that moved in tandem with your body, the dip of your hips that always allowed sungchan to have a perfect grip of you. even your eyes called to him, blown out with want and your cheeks begged to be touched. sungchan covered the expanse of your body in seconds, gasping and clutching at anything as you continued touching yourself. sungchan pressed wet kisses to your neck, trailing all the way up until he got to your ear. you loved when he did that, shivering with each kiss pressed to your skin.

“you’re mine right?” you whimpered.

sungchan pulled away to look you in your eyes. his hand tilted your chin and kept it in place when you tried to turn away. he saw your eyes almost gloss over when his hold on your face tightened.

“yes.” he said.

sungchan’s voice was no longer desperate, no longer apologetic or looking for approval as his other hand started trailing towards your cunt. you had taken your hand away from your core completely, one hand already holding the back of the driver seat for stability.

“you’re mine.” sungchan said.

sungchan reveled in you passing the baton to him as you dumbly nodded your head. you went back to being his princess, batting your long eyelashes as you blinked away tears. your soft pretty hand from never working a day in your life went over sungchan’s large hand, slowly guiding him to your center. your plush lips almost mouthed please as sungchan just let his hand rest there, unmoving.

sungchan smiled in your face, reveling in the defeated look. all the anger was just a show, you were now desperate and nearly begging for what you wanted. this was nothing like the girl who had people submit to her like it was nothing.

“you really don’t know what to do when you don’t get what you want, huh?” sungchan cooed at you, tapping on your cheek as his other hand on your center didn’t move.

you nod your head before shaking it, hesitating before you see sungchan’s smile get bigger. he cups his hand around your head, and you pitch your hips forward slightly to get closer.

“you just get mad and hope for the best, don’t you?” sungchan asks.

you nod again, and you continue nodding until sungchan slips his middle finger and ring finger into your heat. your eyes close and your hand goes to sungchan’s hand that still holds your face. he doesn’t stop pumping into your heat, looking down at your furrowed eyebrows and your wobbling legs. he slides in so easily, and he can see how pitiful you are so clearly from up here. sungchan taps your lip with his finger. you part your lips so sungchan can lick them, and you open wider so he can slip his tongue into your mouth. you whine instantly, bringing both hands to grip sungchan’s shoulders. you tilt your head to give him a better angle, even if it sacrifices your own comfort.

he picks up the pace of your fingers, just to feel how you fall behind his kisses. sungchan pulls away, purposely letting spit dribble from the corner of your lips.

“you’re so spoiled.” sungchan says amazed.

“it’s your fault. you always give me everything i want.” you say nearly breathless.

you have a small smile as you struggle to open your eyes. when you finally do, sungchan picks up the speed to wipe the smug look off your face. you’re a mess all over again, mouth opening while pitiful high-pitched whimpers fall from your lips.

before you can tell sungchan you’re close he speaks first.

“i don’t think you deserve to cum.” he says mockingly.

instantly your eyes open, tears threatening to spill at the denial of something so sweet. sungchan only watches you in amusement, still trying to decide your fate.

“you want me to give it to you?” sungchan asks.

you nod, hands reaching down to pull at the elastic of his underwear. sungchan smiles, pulling away from you to free his dick from his pants. you pull your legs from the center console, tucking them underneath you while you wait for sungchan to give you what you want. with your underwear still balled in his hands he beckons to you, spreading out his naked body like he’s your new seat. 

you close the small space quickly, pushing your face into sungchan’s. it’s rushed, you miss a beat when he smiles against your lips at your desperation. he guides your hips to straddle his, and you put your hand against the fogging window as the other rests in the crook of his neck.

when you pull apart sungchan bunches your dress at your hips, exposing your lower half to him. he looks down before letting a glob of spit land on his heavy dick. it’s against his stomach, occasionally twitching upwards when you dig your nails into his skin. his hand goes to his dick, mixing the spit and precum down his shaft as lubrication. his other hand guides your hips forward until you hover above him. you pull in a gasp in anticipation.

“ready?” sungchan asks, smile on his lips.

before you can say yes, sungchan slides you down on his dick. he stretched you out, this new angle in the cramped space causes your body to seize before relaxing. sungchan hisses as he finishes sliding in. your head goes to the crook of his neck, whimpering at his pulsing dick buried deep in you. sungchan’s face is void of pity as he drags your body up to make you take him all again. you do nothing but whine and moan pitifully into sungchan’s neck, sucking on his skin to satisfy your oral fixation. sungchan takes your hand that presses against the window to pull it behind your back. lack of stability causing you to lean more into him, and takes away any attempt you could make at pulling yourself up from sungchan.

“you like it?” sungchan pulls your body up before bringing you down harder. “when i tell you that you belong to me?” sungchan whispers into your ear.

his voice is strained, holding back grunts from the way your walls squeeze around him and pull him in.

“i do.” you whine.

sungchan lets go of your hand but you keep it there, placing it on his thigh to try and hold your body up. sungchan thrusts up into you quickly at your suspended state, completely changing the pace he had set. you dig your nails into his flexed thigh as a result. he watches your chest bounce in the confines of your dress. part of him wants to rip it off of you, but a bigger part of him wants to keep you completely covered in case someone catches you two out here. sungchan refused to have too much of you exposed in public, seeing your body in all its naked glory was reserved for him and him alone.

“this pussy belongs to me.” sungchan presses his finger to your clit, and your body curls into him even further. you’re a whining mess, letting yes repeatedly fall from your lips when sungchan rubbing revolutions on your bundle of nerves. “you don't even treat her right.” he scoffs.

“please give it me sungchan.” youpull away from the crook of his neck to reveal your tear tracks, wet and shimmering down the sides of your face. 

sungchan tried his best to remain mean. but seeing your glossy self-bitten lips and your wet face softened sungchan. he still snapped his hips up into you that caused your chest to jump and his car to shake, but he cooed at your pitiful face and kissed your salty tears before swiping them away with his thumb. he kissed your forehead and wrapped an arm around your back underneath your arm to bring your chest close to his.

“anything for you, baby.” he moaned quietly.

sungchan’s voice was gentle with you, but the change in the way he fucked you was not. suddenly the arm wrapped around your back pulled you up and he snaked his arm underneath your leg to hike it up. he lifted your body with small grunts to bring you down harshly, making you cry out loud. crescent moons were digging into sungchan’s skin and you could feel your nails bending from the pressure. the sound of your hips coming down on sungchan’s filled the car, mixed with moans he finally let slip from his lips. you were both getting high off of getting fucked, your walls clamped around his dick in a vice grip that had sungchan cursing your name. how could he not give you everything you wanted while you felt like this inside. you both looked down where you two met, watching sungchan disappear inside of you to hit deep in your stomach. he looked up at you, blowing a piece of hair from his line of sight.

“look at me.” sungchan grunted in between thrusts. 

you listened immediately, eyes glazing over as you got close to your peak again.

“you’re gonna cum just for me?” sungchan asked.

you nodded, words fractured anytime you tried to speak.

“so close.” you stuttered.

“i can tell.” sungchan said knowingly.

“cum—” you stopped mid sentence to lean into sungchan’s chest. you looked up at him from your place on his chest and he looked down at you, eyes full of love as he watched you become more and more undown. your walls held him a little tighter when he tried lifting you. “cum inside. all yours.” you babbled.

that was all sungchan needed to hear. he pulled you down one last time, gridning his hips against yours to stimulate your clit. sungchan’s eyes looked everywhere, and felt your drool on his chest as you slapped his thigh. it was always a telltale sign for you, trying to relieve your tension. sungchan grabbed your hand to limit the movement and continued moving his hips.

you let out one final cry before arching your back against sungchan’s chest, and he held you in place. you squeezed around him over and over, milking his dick until he had no more left to give you. your wet walls still pulsed, so much that sungchan could feel his cum seeping out past his dick. you went completely limp against him, your loud cries turning into soft whimpers as your body started shaking. if sungchan touched you, you whined, and when he didn’t touch you you pressed your chest closer to his. it was a game sungchan didn’t want to win.

“i really always do give you what you want.” sungchan said.

it was a quiet revelation, one you had a long time ago back when you two were kids fighting over pointless things.

“yeah. you do.”

[inverseofconverse]

[pretzel-box]

OMG THE LITTLE DRABBLE YOU WRITE FOR SEBASTIAN WHERE READER ACCIDENTALLY GAVE HIM A LOVE NOTE INSTEAD OF THE FILES HE WANTED WAS SO GOOD!! can you please try to recreate it as a fanfic ? Love your writing btw :3 (also can it please be fem!reader?)

Tags: Established Relationship [Marriage], Fluff, Comfort, Motivational Notes

Words: 1k

Sebastian spends most of his precious time reading files, listening to annoying human visitors and scavenging. The last name was something he enjoyed since it was so simple and relaxing.

On this particular scavenging run, things were different. He hadn’t come across anything remarkable for a while, letting him feel a wave of frustration run over him, but then, tucked away in an old storage room, he found a file cabinet half-buried under debris. It was unlocked, and inside were files, all marked as unimportant or abandoned.

He hesitated for a second, figuring it was nothing more than outdated reports or useless data. But something compelled him to grab a few of the folders and stash them in his pack. Who knows? Maybe he could find some clues about the facility’s history, or something he could use against Urbanshade.

After the long trek back to his shop, Sebastian settled in, tossing his gear aside and grabbing a drink before collapsing at his cluttered desk. He didn’t bother with the files at first, instead leaning back, glancing at the framed photo on his desk.

It was of you, standing by his side, beaming that radiant smile of yours. He traced a finger gently over the frame with a small, rare smile tugging at his lips. The two of you had been through hell together, but despite everything, here you were—still by his side, still the one constant in his life.

Sighing, he leaned forward, flipping open the first folder from the stack he’d brought back. But instead of the usual boring documents he expected, he found something else—a small, folded note.

"Seb, I know you're probably frustrated right now, but I just want you to know how much I love you. You’re stronger than you think, and you’ll get through whatever this is. Remember that, okay?"

Sebastian blinked, caught off guard. He stared at the note for a moment, his fingers brushing over the paper as a warmth spread through his chest. He recognized the handwriting instantly—it was yours. But what was it doing here?

He reached for the next file, flipping it open with more curiosity this time. Inside, he found another note:

"When you feel like the world is crashing down on you, remember that you’re the one who holds us together. You’ve always been my hero, and you always will be."

A chuckle escaped his lips as he read the words, shaking his head in disbelief. What were these doing here? He sifted through more of the files, each one containing more of the same—small, handwritten notes from you, each one filled with love, encouragement, and sweet little reminders of how much you believed in him.

"I know you’re tired, but don’t forget to take care of yourself. Drink some water, take a break. I’ll be here waiting for you when you’re ready to come home."

“You mean everything to me, Sebastian. Don’t ever forget that. Even on the days you feel lost, I’m right here beside you."

His heart swelled with every note he found, the exhaustion from the day’s work slowly melting away. He could practically hear your voice in his head, soft and comforting, as if you were sitting right next to him.

He laughed softly, shaking his head in disbelief. Of course you’d do something like this. You always knew how to surprise him, even in the smallest ways. He could imagine you sneaking these notes into various places around the Blacksite, knowing full well that one day he’d find them. You were always thinking ahead, always finding ways to make him smile, even when he didn’t think he had the energy for it.

Sebastian leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face. He couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, a little less burdened.

Grinning, he stood up and moved to the back of his shop, grabbing two mugs and setting them on some boxes that served as tables. He heard the soft patter of your feet as you came down the ladder that led to the small loft in his shop where you usually rested, and soon enough, there you were, walking into the room, rubbing your eyes from a nap you’d taken.

“Hey,” you said, smiling as you stretched your arms over your head, an action that he always loved to see you did it. “What’s with the grin?”

Sebastian just shook his head, watching you with a fondness he rarely showed anyone else. “I found your little scavenger hunt,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

You blinked, confused for a moment before realization dawned on your face. “Oh, you found them?” you asked, a playful glint in your eye. “Took you long enough.”

He walked over, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close, his forehead resting gently against yours. “You know,” he said softly, his voice full of affection, “you’re a pain in the ass sometimes.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. His body was cold as always, making you feel cooled down but his actions had a comforting warmth to it as if a weighted blanket was laid upon you. “Yeah, but you love me for it.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I really do.”

The two of you stood there for a while, wrapped up in each other, the weight of the world feeling a little less heavy in that moment. Eventually, you pulled away, glancing over at the files scattered on the table.

“So,” you teased, “how many did you find?”

“Enough to remind me I married a complete sap,” he replied with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes, leaning up to kiss him, your lips meeting him and you could feel him lean closer. “Well, someone’s gotta keep you from brooding all the time.”

Sebastian chuckled, his arms tightening around you. “Guess I’m stuck with you then, huh?”

You smiled, resting your head on his chest. “Yeah,” you said softly. “You’re stuck with me.”

And for once, Sebastian didn’t mind being stuck at all.

[holylulusworld]

Not alone any longer

Summary: You try to believe in your blooming friendship with Clark.

Pairing: Clark Kent x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, loner reader, introvert reader, flirty Clark, low self-esteem, fluff, Lois bashing, Lois is the worst, destruction of a car

Catch up here: Alone again - Naturally

“Clark, you came,” you gasp as Clark stands in front of your home. He’s got a bouquet of daisies in his hands, offering them to you. “I mean, you’re early.”

“We have a date,” he half-laughs. “You remember we wanted to go on a date.” Clark nervously looks at you. “Did you change your mind?”

“No!” You hastily say. “I didn’t change my mind. It’s just…uh… I didn’t know what to wear.” You drop your gaze. “It’s been a while since someone asked me out. I didn’t know where we were going and tried on so many outfits that I forgot about the time.”

Clark flashes you a soft smile. He seems almost shy when you take the flowers out of his hand, and invite him in.

While you look for a vase, Clark looks around your small apartment. It’s nice, cozy and inviting. You’ve got fluffy pillows on our couch, and lots of plushies keeping you company while you try to write.

“I read one of your articles. Uh-the one about the missing cat, and how the owner did everything to find them. It was heartwarming how you described their reunion.”

You awkwardly look down at your shoes. Embarrassed about your meaningless article, you sigh deeply. “You shouldn’t have read that crap. No one does read it.”

“I liked it very much, Y/N,” Clark softly says your name, making you feel warm. You can see the honesty in his eyes when you finally look at him. “You’ve got talent, Blossom. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.”

You shrug. “I’ll never win a Pulitzer Prize, or be as famous as Lois,” you sniffle. “She’s a star, and I’m the dirt under her shoes. Let’s be honest. Out of all the people I know, I’m the loser among them.”

“Y/N, that’s not true!”

You raise your hand and shake your head. “It’s okay, Clark. Why do you think none of my so-called friends stayed in touch?” You wipe your eyes. “Lois only invites me to rub her success and fame in my face. She didn’t even recognize that I left the party. If not for you, I’d be dead, and she wouldn’t even care. No one does.”

“I care,” Clark steps closer to grab your hand. “Not only because I saved you, Y/N. Before, during the party, you caught my eye. You looked as lost as I felt. I sometimes don’t know why I live here, among people who’ll never understand the burden of my powers and origin.”

“Oh, Clark.” You suddenly wrap your arms around him to comfort Clark. The strongest and bravest person you ever met. Running your hands up and down his back, you murmur his name. “I babble about my unimportant life and ignore that you must be struggling too. Hiding your true nature must be exhausting.”

He smiles and wraps his arms around you. Clark holds you close to his warm chest, feeling his heart beat a little faster. He hasn’t felt a connection with a person for a long time.

“It’s easier now that I got someone important in my life,” he whispers against you. Clark buries his face in your neck and sighs.

“Oh, who’s that? Did you meet someone nice?” You innocently ask, dipping your head to look up at Clark. “I hope they are nice.”

“Blossom, I meant you,” he smiles and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “You know about my secret for weeks, and didn’t try to take advantage of it.”

“Why would I? You’re a hero, and it’s an honor to know about your secret identity,” you shyly glance up at Clark. “Even though, flying still scares me.”

“I promise to fly carefully with you in my arms.” He smiles when you shy away. You didn’t think Clark wanted to see again, let alone, fly with you again. “I’ll not drop you.”

You giggle when he tells you. “What if you sneeze, and I slip out of your hands? I’ll end up as a pancake on the ground.”

Something flashes in his eyes. Not the red you saw in pictures or videos on the news. No. Worry, fear even. “I never get sick.”

“You never get sick?” You wonder aloud. “Oh, that’s good. I think. I mean, you’re from another world. Makes sense that our diseases can’t harm you.”

“Sometimes I wish that I was a normal guy, with normal problems and a normal life. No one would believe that Superman lies awake at night, dreaming of losing his powers.”

“You do?” you whimper. “I didn’t know you were lonely and sad too.” You hide your face in his chest. “But we are friends now. So, you’re not alone anymore.”

“Yeah,” he hums. “We are friends now…”

“Lois, what’s wrong?” You gasp watching your friend storm into your home. She huffs and throws her locks back while brushing past you. Lois looks around your living room, sneering as his eyes land on the daises Clark got for you.

“You know exactly what’s wrong,” she twirls around to glare at you. “Your life must be extremely shitty if you must go out with my boyfriend!”

“Your boyfriend?” You frown deeply. “I thought you’re single. And I don’t know who you are talking about.”

“Clark Kent!” She spats. “You had to date my boyfriend, didn’t you? Just you know, he only feels sorry for you. Pathetic little Y/N, always so lonely and sad, standing in the corner to lure sweet Clark in.”

“He’s not your boyfriend,” you’re getting angry. “You broke up with him over a year ago. And, when he talked to me, I didn’t even know he was your ex. What Clark and I do is none of your business. We are friends and like spending time together!”

Lois wrinkles her nose at the word friends. “Does he know you’re a frigid and emotionally disabled and whiny little bitch? I guess not.”

She raises her hand to slap your face. You flinch and prepare for the impact when something outside your window explodes. Dropping to the ground, you press your hands to your ear as Lois screams in terror. She needs a moment before running toward your balcony.

Ever the investigative journalist, she steps onto your balcony to look down at the sidewalk to see her car got destroyed. It seems like it got cut into two halves. “No, what…” She shakes her head. Lois knows there’s only one person in this world able to cut her car into two halves within the blink of his eyes. “Why would he do this?”

Superman floats high above the sky, unseen. Watching Lois yell at you, he got angry. Even more, when she raised her hand against you, he couldn’t hurt her, so he did the next best thing. Clark sent a warning to her.

“You destroyed her car,” you glance down at the people in the streets. They look like ants as you float above the city. “Why?”

“She wanted to hurt you,” Clark holds you safe in his arms as you cling to him. You’re still scared of flying around with him, but he asked you to come with him so sweetly, you couldn’t deny him. “I’m sorry for scaring you. I got so mad and… I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry.”

“I’d smashed her car too if I had any powers,” you give him a cracked smile. “She was vile and mean without a reason. Lois only got mad because we are friends now. She is like a kid wanting her toy back after she threw it away.”

“I’m a toy?” He looks at you in his arms.

“No…that’s not…” you sigh. “I didn’t mean it that way. She’s just…”

“I know, Blossom.” Clark presses his lips to your forehead. “What she said was mean. I couldn’t let her hurt you even more.”

“She’s not wrong,” you sniff. “I’m not good with dates and such. Men usually run for the hills after one date because I get nervous and anxious easily.”

“Y/N, I like you the way you are,” he whispers. Clark dips his head to press a soft kiss on your lips—a short and sweet one to test the waters. You giggle as your cheeks heat up. “I like you a lot, Blossom.”

“I like you a lot too, Clarkie,” you smile at Clark, feeling your heart flutter. “Can you…” You giggle, “Kiss me again?”

You don’t have to ask twice. Clark kisses you again, soft and sweet, while you float about the city. You forget about Lois and the rest of the world. It’s just you and Clark, and that is enough…

Tags in reblog.

[lorelune]

(continuation here)

"do you remember me?"

"no."

blade stares at you, tilting his head to the side with a blank expression. you wish you could see any recognition on his face. but it's blank. nothing behind those eyes-- nothing for you, anyways. his hands twitch and itch in his binds. he's coiled, ready to strike. not you though.

(you can delude yourself into thinking that this makes you special. that him not pulling at his chains to hold a sword to your throat or squeezing your neck until it snaps, makes you different. perhaps his urges are curbed at the sight of you--)

(this is wishful thinking.)

he should, maybe you deserve it. it's your sin to bear and remember, maybe. you couldn't dare to tell jing yuan of all of... this, hence why your trip to the shackling prison was in secret. why you're holding your body so tightly.

"i thought so." but i hoped differently. you sigh.

"... why should i?" blade asks, voice hoarse and rough. you can't tell if its from disuse or overuse. he's lived too long.

"we knew each other, once."

('knew'. you're simplifying things for the sake of convenience. lessening the story you share, the lore you carry on your back like a uneroding stone. it's not like blade would care to hear it. you've read his file. he has only a few goals, which he doesn't hide upon interrogation. only one relates to the past, to a different face that you can only scorn along with him.)

(it's all in hate. anguish, under that. nothing of love. nothing at all.)

you laugh, weakly. it feels useless.

your phone vibrates in your pocket. you think it's jing yuan, without even looking at the message. probably wondering where you are. you're a few minutes late for your lunch date.

jing yuan knows this ache too, you think. he knows the feeling that's bloomed in your chest over the course of your visit. how each step that brought you closer to blade's cell pulled and tugged at your ribs like an overgrown flower. petals slicing flesh from the inside out.

(longing that would kill you, maybe. if you could die like that.)

"unsatisfied with my answer?" he asks. there's a soft quality to his voice, just for a breath. it makes you horribly nostalgic.

you need to leave.

"perhaps." you kick the scuffed metal of the floor. the sound rings out through the room as blade's chains jingle. like bells. "it was foolish of me to think you'd have any recollection of it."

"you seem unimportant to me."

it cuts through you. like a knife. as if you didn't once hold the world up for the man in front of you. as if you didn't beg and scream and raze anything in your path for his sake. as if you didn't bear his many burdens. as if you didn't labor to find something, anything, that could've prevented your fates. your current situation.

a prisoner and one freed. aeons know which of you is which.

"goodbye, yingxing." you don't know if he'll recognize his old name-- a name that isn't him anymore. your once-lover is simply a tool now, and he's taken the name of one. you knew this before you entered the prison. and yet--

(you ache with it.)

you turn away without taking in his expression. blade remains silent as you exit his cell.

(part of you prays he'll call out to you. that he'll sound like he once did. that there will be a kind reunion.)

(he doesn't.)

but that's alright, you tell yourself. it's misplaced hope after all. jing yuan is waiting for you, and you know he'll already have ordered your favorite dish. yanqing may join you, given the time of day. he would have just finished up his mornings spars.

all you have to do is compose yourself by the time you reach the general's favorite picnic spot.

(you almost collapse once you leave the shackling prison. the moment you are alone, tucked into an alleyway, you cover your mouth with your palm and weep. you cry until your chest hurts. you cry with a grief that guts you, as it always has. over and over.)

[connorsui]

♡♡Angst with nanami because this man thought of you before he died ♡♡

The air was thick with the ruin of Shibuya, yet, for Kento Nanami, it had never felt lighter. He wasn’t in the desolate streets, nor surrounded by curses and shattered remnants of humanity. No, in his mind, he was far from here—far from this city, far from pain, from death. He was in Malaysia, on a sun-drenched beach where the world was simple, and the weight of life had slipped away, unnoticed. And you were there. Always, you were there.

In the clarity of his mind, you danced—graceful and unburdened, as if the very ocean had learned its rhythm from you. “I’ve always imagined her in front of me," Nanami thought, his lips barely moving with the words. "Twirling across the sand, laughing softly as the waves kissed her feet. That laugh, so gentle, like the sound of water lapping the shore—something eternal."

Mahito's blows landed with the force of fate, cruel and inescapable, but Nanami did not feel them. His body was breaking, yes, but it was as if he’d traded his senses for something better—a dream so vivid it seemed real. You were twirling before him, your hands outstretched, hair catching the wind, and Nanami thought he might reach you, might hold you, if only he took one more step.

He smiled faintly, his blood-soaked mouth twitching as his thoughts carried him further from the battlefield. “We spoke about forever, didn’t we? About a little home nestled near the sea, where the world’s burdens couldn’t reach us.” He could almost hear your voice now, warm like the sun, speaking of nothing but trivialities—what to cook for dinner, whether to walk or swim tomorrow. The small, unimportant details of a life free from the strain of duty.

Another blow landed. His body lurched forward, but in his mind, he was walking beside you. How strange, he thought, to have wanted something so desperately—peace, simplicity—and to be so close now, only to feel it slip through his fingers. "How cruel," he might have whispered, had the words found breath.

Mahito's strikes came faster now, and Yuuji watched in horror as Nanami’s body was broken before him. The younger sorcerer screamed his name, but Nanami wasn’t there. He was at the edge of something beautiful and irrevocable, the edge of eternity, where the life he dreamed of waited like a ghost—faint, unreachable.

But something tugged at him, pulling him back. Not enough to save him, only enough to remind him of the truth. “She’s waiting for me,” he thought, and the words became a desperate litany. “She’s waiting… she’s waiting…”

And she was. In that dream of Malaysia, where the sun was golden and the waves never stopped moving, you waited for him. But as Nanami blinked through the blood and the haze, reality began to bleed through. Shibuya returned. The screams, the curses, the destruction. The life he would never have.

“Nanami! NANAMI!”

Yuuji’s voice was desperate now, shaking him from the dream, ripping away the illusion. Nanami looked up, his eyes no longer clouded by hope or fantasy but by something heavier. The weight of his failure, the weight of goodbye. He would never walk that beach with you, would never see the future he’d promised. But in those final moments, it didn't matter.

He smiled at Yuuji, the remnants of the dream still clinging to him like salt on his skin, and with the last of his breath, he gave the only truth he had left.

“I leave the rest to you"

The dream was over. The beach was gone. You would always be waiting. But now, Nanami realized he would never make it.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Cheshire behind the cut; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! ( + non-chrono link for app users )

“Um, yeah,” Billy says, still internally cringing at himself. “Just–not just the bare minimum, I mean? Like–other things too. Books and games and snacks and . . . whatever you think’s fun, or whatever you want to learn about, or whatever.” 

He’s definitely been in “homes” that didn’t give him things like that. He doesn’t want Lynn to feel like . . . a burden, or a problem, or just unimportant and unwanted like that, so . . . yeah, he’s definitely gonna get him things that aren’t just the bare minimum. As many of those things as he can, he thinks. 

Batman gave them so much money, and that’s not even counting the stipend. Billy can definitely afford to give Lynn the kind of stuff none of his foster families wanted to give him. So, like–he’s gonna, obviously. 

Of course he’s gonna. 

Lynn ducks his head a little, then swallows uncomfortably. Billy resists the urge to nudge Tawky towards him again. He wonders if he could just, like . . . offer Lynn a hug, maybe? Maybe that’d be okay? 

Or maybe it’d be weird and pushy, or maybe stupid, or maybe just make Lynn feel uncomfortable. They’ve never met before today and they’ve barely spent any time together at all, and Billy doesn’t want to be the type of foster parent who demands a relationship that just isn’t there, even if he’s . . . well, not really just a foster parent, he hopes. But those fosters just always made him feel like they were more interested in getting attention and looking good to strangers than anything about him. 

He wants Lynn to feel like he’s interested in him–wants Lynn to know he’s interested in him, and cares about him, and isn’t gonna ignore him or hate him if he doesn’t follow some stupid script he’s got in his head of how he “should” be. 

He definitely wants that. 

“It’s okay if you don’t know what you think’s fun yet,” he tries, hoping he’s not assuming too much. “It’s probably kinda overwhelming, with, um . . . literally everything happening all at once and your whole life getting turned on its head, um . . . basically five minutes after it really started, so . . .” 

“I was alive before I woke up,” Lynn says, a little stilted. “I–saw things. Learned things.” 

“Things about yourself, or about how Cadmus wanted you to be?” Billy asks. 

Lynn–pauses. Frowns. 

“. . . um,” he says. “I . . . don’t know.” 

Billy is pretty sure Cadmus just sucks, actually. Like. A lot. 

“Okay,” he says. “Well, that’s okay too. You can take your time figuring it out. There’s no rush or anything.” 

“Superman won’t like me if I don’t figure it out,” Lynn says, his frown deepening. “If I’m not–useful.” 

. . . okay, Billy thinks. Cadmus really sucks, actually. 

“Superman doesn’t care about people being useful,” he says firmly. “That’s like, the last thing Superman cares about. He just likes people for who they are.” 

“. . . who I am is . . . fake, though,” Lynn says, his eyes slanting away. “It’s–programmed.” 

“So?” Billy asks, reminding himself superheroes don’t burn down weird basement labs outside of extenuating circumstances. And anyway, the sidekicks already messed Cadmus up pretty bad as it was. “Lots of people get programmed. Red Tornado’s programmed, and he’s really nice. And Wonder Woman got made out of clay as a little kid, so she got, like, magic programming. Like, to be her ‘age’, you know?” 

Lynn . . . blinks, slowly, and then glances back at him. 

“You really think that?” he asks. Billy’s a little confused by the question. He doesn’t think it; he knows it. 

“I mean, yeah?” he says. “I just mean–it doesn’t make you fake. That’s all. Especially ‘cuz you can, you know . . . learn stuff yourself, if you wanna. You don’t have to just stay the way you got taught to be.” 

Lynn stares at him for a long, silent moment, then looks down at the table again. 

“How long have you had–uh, Uncle Tawky?” he asks, abrupt and obviously trying to change the subject. That’s fine, Billy thinks; he doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable. And Lynn’s gotta learn how to do that kind of thing anyway, so it’s good practice for more complicated conversations, he figures. 

“Since I was ten,” he says. “He came from India! I met him in Fawcett, though, and he’s been my best friend ever since! He’s really great. And a respectable gentleman, so you don’t need to be scared of him or anything. I mean, I don’t know if you’re scared of tigers or not? Because probably you’re tiger-proof? Like–normally, I mean. But yeah.” 

“. . . I’m not scared of tigers,” Lynn says, looking a little bewildered, for some reason. Billy beams at him. 

“Great!” he says happily. Tawky could probably hurt Lynn, since he’s magic too, but he obviously wouldn’t, so he’s just . . . not gonna draw attention to that right now, obviously. That wouldn’t make Lynn feel very safe, he’s pretty sure. 

But Tawky could also probably stop Lynn if he got mind-controlled, so . . . maybe it would make him feel safer? Billy’s not sure, actually. 

. . . hm. Yeah, he needs to figure that out. 

“. . . you’ve really had him since you were ten?” Lynn asks, looking–hesitant, now. Billy doesn’t know why, but nods. 

“Yup!” he says. “He’s the best.” 

“. . . are you sure you want me to have him?” Lynn asks, still looking hesitant. 

“Yeah!” Billy confirms cheerfully. “Tawky’s the best! He’ll protect you. And keep you from having bad dreams, too.” Tawky’s really good at eating nightmares, so yeah, Lynn won’t have to worry about bad dreams at all. 

“Uh,” Lynn says, then very gingerly reaches over and picks up Tawky, and then sets him in his lap with a weird look on his face. He looks a little–emotional, maybe? At least for him, anyway. He’s not very expressive, so far. “Um. Okay.” 

Billy just beams at him again. He’s really glad they like each other. 

“. . . thanks,” Lynn says as he looks down at Tawky, voice a little abrupt again. “Um–Dad."

[divomria]

Today I'm thinking about Harry asking Peter:

“Do you want me to die?”

The pain in his voice and where it came from.

Before asking Peter to be a co-founder of Emily-May Foundation, he brought two bikes that looked exactly like the old ones, and took Peter to school to stroll down memory lane — all because Harry felt like the world moved on without him, that Peter moved on. He felt like he needed to remind Peter about their friendship, to win him over. He felt like Peter replaced him with Miles.

And then, Peter died, and Harry saved him, just to get a version of Peter that made him feel like he was unimportant, like it would've been better if he just died because he was a weak burden that no one cared about, no one loved.

Even with all the hurt and rage inside as Venom, Harry still just wanted to be with Peter, together.

Just the two of them.

[thekingofchungus]

some 1x2 ep praise for marcille. ive never seen such an accurate and kind portrayal of not just feeling like you have to overact/double down - even in seemingly insensible ways - to prove youre useful and special at what you do, but the frustration and even spitefulness that comes with that feeling too.

she's straight up like "yeah i didnt like being called a burden and wanted you all proved wrong and to be super duper sorry" and yeah that motivation can sound illogical and petty if you havent been there. but for folks who have, at least for me, its a really earnest depiction of how sometimes, the need to overcompensate does manifest in non-ideallic ways like that. it doesnt always just lay dormant in you. it hurts to feel pushed aside, and you only act against that cause thats not what you want.

and the fact its not demonized at all, laios is just like "you didnt need to do that because youre our magic user and you will always be needed and important" ( and whats more, her method did do something good even if it was dangerous ) . if you're someone who gets stubborn from feeling chronically unimportant cause you don't feel special or knowledgeable enough at Your Thing. i think its not only commendable but a little healing too.

[kairiscorner]

❝THINGS UNSAID❞ — miles 1610 x reader (part 1)

⋆✮↪ summary: six months into your relationship already, yet you feel so... neglected. you felt unimportant to him, when he swore you were the most important person in his life. if you were so important, he'd fess up he's spider man to you, wouldn't he? ⋆✮↪ pairing: miles 1610 x gn!reader ⋆✮↪ word count: 1,566 ⋆✮↪ author's note: i loved this idea from that one anon who requested, and they gave me the option of doing either, but because i love both of my sons AND angst, i decided to make two diff versions for y'all to enjoy :DD (reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

yet another message was ignored, another call wasn't answered, and another night of you waiting by the cafe he told you he'd meet you at. with a grunt, you put your phone down and dropped the call on him. you wanted to scream right now, throw the plates of the pastries you ordered for the two of you and stop on the shattered bits and pieces of ceramic. you tried to keep it in you, your disappointment, your loneliness; but a heart can only hold so much pain and feelings of neglect until it all just comes pouring out.

you were way more patient than you should've been, and why was that? because you knew what he was really doing behind the scenes. you weren't worrying that he was cheating on you, doing shady things, or falling behind at school; none of it was as serious as the job he does as spider man. yes, you were dating spider man, and you... you were not living the dream. you knew miles was spider man way back, the dead giveaway for you was the way spider man held you when he saved you when you were going to fall off a building. the way he held your waist, the way he held you close to his chest, how his fingers felt when he clutched you and kept promising in hushed tones he wouldn't let you go... it felt all too familiar.

you wanted to unmask him right then and there to prove your suspicions, to mutter his name and have him look up at you with a surprised expression on his lenses; you wanted him to be honest with you, you wanted him to admit his secret, but how could he? how could he be when he wanted you to be dating miles morales, not spider man; he wanted you out of the danger, not heading straight first into it if you knew he was always risking his own life for you. but in the process, he was risking his relationship with you.

you understood, every single time why he wasn't there with you, why he couldn't be there with you tonight. you respected that he wanted to keep it from you, not knowing that you were already very aware about who he really was. you tried your hardest to remind yourself he had a duty to serve, innocent, helpless people he had to save from dangers greater than you could ever comprehend; but you were facing your own battles, too. you were going to have tryouts for your school's varsity team, and you felt so... overwhelmed. you tried not to worry about it too much, but the burden of knowing you might or might not make it was too real, too palpable for you. miles had always assured you back then he'd be there for you whenever you needed him, he promised he'd be there. but now, where was he?

you had it, you didn't care anymore if he was spider man, the easter bunny, or santa claus, you had it. you stormed out of the cafe and headed home, about to bring him hell the next day. when you saw his back in the hall the day after, you didn't hesitate. you pushed your way out of the crowd and grabbed his shoulder and turned him around to face him. you were scowling, and you were furious with him. miles looked at you with annoyance in his eyes.

"what's wrong?" he asked you, as if he really didn't know why you were so pissed. "miles, where were you?" you asked him with poisonous venom lacing your tone. miles' eyes went wide and his lips quivered a little as his mind raced for an appropriate excuse, a believable one that wouldn't piss you off. "i was... helping my dad out last night, carrying stuff, we were moving furniture." "i called your home phone last night, your mom told me you were asleep." you pressed him as he shut his locker's door and began to walk off, not wanting to anger you anymore.

you followed him as he wove his way through the crowd of people in the hall. "i slept because i was tired from all the furniture moving." he argued back as he tried to hold back from getting irritated back. if you only knew just how much miles wanted to admit to you the truth, the real reason why he couldn't be there to comfort you, offer you support and at least make it to one date... but being spider man is a sacrifice, a job he takes up so no one else, especially not you, gets hurt.

you sighed as you tried reaching out for his hand. "well, you couldn't have texted me at all? accept my calls? let me at least know why you couldn't come that night? because i would've understood if you just told me--" you were in the middle of telling him, but miles couldn't bear to be around you right now. when you finally grasped his hand, he yanked himself away from your grasp and turned to face you with eyes filled with agitation and stress.

"well there are things you can't understand sometimes, things you won't ever be able to understand! have you ever thought of that?!"

he snapped at you. he raised his voice at you.

...he really didn't trust you at all, did he?

miles heaved and tried catching his breath as he tried to shake off the boiling anger and frustration he was feeling. it was all too much for him, to know that you depended on him, you needed him when the whole city needs spider man... it was torture to face you right now when he feels so unworthy of having you, of being loved by you. "look, i..." miles began, but words failed him as his voice faltered, his mouth remained hung open as you stared at him in disbelief, hurt that miles spoke to you that way when all you asked for were answers, honest truths--you couldn't even be entitled to the truth by your own boyfriend, it seemed.

before you knew it, tears were rolling down your cheeks and falling down to the floor. your uniform's blazer was getting stained by the wet tears, which relentlessly flowed down your face as your mouth curved into a weak frown. your lips twitched at the corners as you sniffled back your tears and raggedly breathed in and out, rubbing your eyes so the tears would hopefully quit falling. "why do you keep doing this to me, miles?" you choked out as the tears' falling merely worsened, and your sobs became louder. "i try... so hard... to see where you're coming from, but how... how do i even start when you refuse to... to tell me a thing?" you asked him in between your sobs as miles looked at you and darted his eyes down to his feet, a veil of sadness curtaining his eyes as he looks remorseful and regretful about everything that just happened.

some of the other students were looking over the catastrophe unfolding before them, with miles slowly approaching you, hesitant he even should be. he tried putting his hands on your shoulders, clear it up to you that he didn't mean to hurt you like that, but you moved away from his touch. "i can't be with you anymore. we're done, miles." you said in a louder voice, which stung miles' heart and made him freeze up, petrifying him as you moved past him, running off in the opposite direction. you refused to say anything more to him and instead brought yourself away from the situation and ran off to cry somewhere else, away from everybody.

miles tried to call your name, tried to turn on his heels and run off after you, patch things up because he really didn't want to lose you, but... he did nothing. he turned around to watch you leave, guilt and shame coating his face, but he couldn't make another move. he was still, he was kept in place by some invisible force that wanted to remind him of the consequence of his outburst. he did what he had to that night, not going to you at that cafe to save a whole city, to keep you safe, to not lose you; but in the end... he still lost you because he didn't go, he didn't keep his promise, he couldn't keep a single promise, hence he couldn't keep you.

the onlookers and bystanders eventually went their own ways, awkwardly trying to make their way through the tumultuous and emotional events that just transpired here. miles gradually began to walk again from the spot he was practically glued to after processing what just happened. he headed off to his first class with a gloomy and sullen face after he realized he lost you. he tried to cover up his own sadness and melancholy, until ganke caught up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "miles, what--" "they left me." miles responded promptly, his voice soft and shaking. ganke looked over at miles, and he saw a few tears rolling down his face. "they left me, ganke... i was so stupid..." he sobbed out as ganke pat him on the back and led him to their first class. with a heavy heart, miles tread to class, unable to listen to a single thing, understand a single thing except that he's lost you.

but like hell he'd let it end here.

tags !! @k4tsu3 @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @popeheywardssecretgf @solecitoszn

[theerurishipper]

Personally I think there isn’t enough meta about Adricat being a girl coded character and you should make one too

Okay, so when I say "female coded," I mean that Adrien's character fulfils the role that female characters usually have done in media. He's the love interest, he's the emotional support. He's sensitive and he's emotional. He's the heart of the team. Marinette on the other hand is a "male coded" character. She's a leader, she comes up with strategies and plans, and she is the brains of the operation. I used to think that was really cool, the way they subverted gender roles and allowed the characters to shine as characters instead of putting them in a box. Marinette was a strong and determined person, but she also had moments of weakness and vulnerability. Adrien seemed like the usual trope of the damsel in distress, but he was also literally Chat Noir, who often escaped his own situation and whose arc was about him breaking of his father himself.

But then they leaned too far into it, and it just became a gender swapped version of the same tired tropes that we've all seen. Marinette became The Leader™ who can do no wrong and doesn't need to do that emotional support shit for her partner when he needs it. Adrien lost any and all agency in his own story, and effectively just became the damsel in distress who had to sit there and look pretty as he waited for Marinette the knight to come and save him. I mean, you can't get more on the nose than this.

(And yeah, this is supposed to be the class' fanfiction and not representative of what the show was building up to, but this is literally what ended up happening.)

His choices became more and more irrelevant, and his feelings became more and more unimportant, until the entire Ladynoir dynamic became Marinette being The Leader™ who doesn't need to tell Chat Noir anything and doesn't owe him anything, and Chat Noir became the emotional support who is always attentive and considerate of Ladybug's needs to the point of invalidating his own. His feelings of sadness at being left out of the loop and being pushed away by Ladybug ultimately did not matter.

And then Season 5 spent its time setting up a rivalry between Marinette and Gabriel over what's best for Adrien. The fight wasn't Ladybug and Chat Noir against Monarch, but Marinette vs. Gabriel, and whoever won got to take Adrien home as a prize. Adrien's agency was diminished throughout Season 5 and annihilated entirely in the Season 5 finale, where he spends the confrontation with his father locked away in a white room while Marinette has to take the fight to Gabriel and confront him on Adrien's behalf. And he is sound asleep far away from the conflict while Marinette and Gabriel fight over what's best for Adrien instead of him, you know, deciding that himself.

I mean, the finale could not have been clearer about it.

At least he's there in the dream lmao

And the end of Recreation reveals that Marinette is lying to Adrien about his father so as to protect him. Because apparently Adrien won't be able to control his emotions and needs someone else to make his decisions for him. Because clearly, he would be too emotional and wouldn't be able to make his own informed choices. And it's quite common for women to be told that they are too emotional and so the big strong man should make the decisions for them. So the female coded character is treated like his emotions are a weakness and a burden and like he requires other people to make his choices for him.

And so, Marinette the knight defeats the evil Gabriel, saves the helpless Adrien from his evil father, and they kiss in the sunset, and all is well. Except Adrien isn't being allowed to make informed choices about his own life and everyone around him is denying his autonomy, but he only exists to be the trophy for whoever won in the Marinette-Gabriel rivalry (which Marinette only won because Gabriel forfeited anyway), so he doesn't get to make choices and have any of those inconvenient emotions like anger or sadness, and all really is well.

Thomas Astruc even mentioned on Twitter that Chat Blanc was the reason why Adrien could not participate in the finale. And the implication is that he couldn't be there because he would be too emotional and would destroy the world. So Marinette had to do it for him, and Adrien had to be removed from his own story and put away in London with nightmares so that he wouldn't get in the way with his emotions. So yeah. The female coded character was reduced into being a damsel in distress and was told his emotions rendered him incapable of making his own choices because he wouldn't be able to control them.

Anyway, that's my take on it. Here are some other posts that discuss this.

Thank you for your ask!

[ughthisisntright]

Hello There ! 👋😊

May I ask you a humble request ? 🙏

NSFW Silco seducing and fucking Finn's girlfriend please 🙈

YES. THIS. THIIIIIIS. I made reader gender neutral - I was on autopilot and wrote it like that!

NSFW below the cut!

You felt the watchful gaze of Silco as Finn berates you in front of the entire society of chembarons. You had little to do with the operation, with the cause, but Finn still loved to assert his power over you. Something he'd been doing since the very beginning. You loved him. sure, but there was something eating away at you that made you want to... rebel.

As the man huffed away to join the rest of the chembarons, you were left with an uneasy feeling in your gut. The way he made you feel - small, unimportant, a burden - it was not an easy pill to swallow that your boyfriend was as cruel as he was. It seemed that being part of a covert operation to bring forth the greater good was not something he was suited for. And it angered you.

And still as you ruminated over the horrible display of toxic masculinity, that feeling of Silco's eyes on you burned your skin. You turned your head ever so slightly to meet his gaze. He wasn't even listening to the meeting. He didn't care what Finn had to say. He would never care again.

-

When the meeting concluded, and Finn tossed his coat at you before leaving, you sank into an empty chair. The room was empty, the rest of the more important people going to finalize plans for another shimmer plant, and all that was left was you and this stupid fucking coat. You gripped it in your smaller hands, wishing beyond anything that you would be able to tear it into pieces and cast it into the River Pilt.

You screamed in agony before slamming the coat onto the table. It felt good, but not good enough. And before you could even allow yourself the joy of letting some of that go, you heard clapping behind you.

Turning, you laid eyes on Silco. So the room wasn't empty. He stalked toward you with a smirk on his face. The older man always carried himself with such bravado, such confidence, not unlike Finn. But there was a key difference between the two: Experience.

Silco was successful long before the chembarons came together. Independently achieving goals left and right before any of them had even had the chance to taste Topside. Long before Finn was even born.

And here he was, stalking toward you like it was nothing. You watched him come closer, clasping his hands behind his back, and looking you over.

"Quite impressive the way you stand your ground in the face of something like that. Are you quite alright?" His low voice reverberated off the walls of the room, as large as it was, and you could feel it in your bones.

"Well," you began, trying to find your words. "I'm fine, but... That's him I guess."

"Regardless, it was quite the sight to see. I don't exactly know what the cause was for that kind of reaction, but it seems if I know Finn enough, it was likely his fault." A smirk lifted his features as he gave what you assumed to be his version of comfort. A smirk to which you responded with a small smile of your own.

"That's very kind of you to say," you admit softly.

-

And that was how you found yourself bent over the table - on top of Finn's elaborate coat - in the meeting room. The same meeting room where Finn had berated you earlier, the same meeting room where the meeting between the society of chembarons had taken place, and the same place where Silco - of all people - had given you comfort.

The feeling of him inside you was overwhelming. You didn't exactly expect him to be as large as he was, but you also thought you'd seen all you'd ever get with Finn. And now, with his hands around your waist and his hips against the swell of your ass, you were sure that this wouldn't be the last time this kind of meeting would occur between the two of you.

Heavy breathing and grunts behind gritted teeth sounded out from behind you as harsh snaps of hips shook your entire being. You could feel the hard edge of the wood digging into your flesh as you were pounded into the surface of the table like a thing to be used. And you were loving every second of it.

At the height of your ecstasy, when Silco was growling the filthiest things in your ear, you heard the sound of the heavy door being opened. Your eyes opened and you caught sight of your boyfriend standing in the doorway.

Ex-boyfriend, that is. It's a fair trade-off for this kind of lust.