#how can I sleep so much and still be tired

[stealingyourbones]

Danny, being a halfa, falls under the strange category of people who can converse with the dead and act in their names. Most mediums simply convey messages. It was rare for someone to be able to fulfill a ghost’s dying request and have that act tied to the ghost’s core.

Honestly it’s annoying.

He doesn’t get any alone time anymore for homework or hobbies. The dead are constantly pestering Danny to help with their desires - which, sure, it helps them move on which means they’re out of Danny’s hair, but come on!! Give a guy a break! Just because he doesn’t need as much sleep as a fully living person doesn’t mean he can go without entirely!

“No Scott,” Danny repeated for the fifth time, “I am not flying to California tonight. Do you know how far that is? Literally the other coast of this massive continent. Meet me there in August like everyone else on the list.”

Spending the first spring break of college creating a map and calendar for Last Rites was not something Danny expected when he moved to Gotham.

Why did this city have so many ghosts?! It was ridiculous. And he thought Amity Park was bad? At least the ghosts here were mostly Shades. Not visible to anyone unless they were also dead-adjacent or had The Sight or a bloodline curse or a magical amulet… you know what? There were enough of those in this curse ridden city, why couldn’t these ghosts go find one of those people instead? Danny was exhausted.

So exhausted he didn’t notice the vigilante dropping down from the rooftop.

“Hey there kid, you alri-”

“Yeah yeah,” Danny waved a hand dismissively at the voice without looking up. “Wait in line like everyone else. But honestly you’d be better off coming back tomorrow when I’ve had some sleep.”

“Think maybe you outta get started on that sleep now, bud?” the voice behind him spoke in a calm careful tone.

One Danny had heard all too often since dying.

His head jerked sideways to stare wide-eyed at Nightwing, who tensed just a little as if expecting Danny to run or fight. Instead he let out a groan and slumped onto the park bench, rubbing his eyes to ease the burn of fatigue. He’d been coming out to this park at the corner of campus each night to keep the Shades from mobbing him all day long in classes, but they’d spread the word around Gotham that he was here and his precious spring break had become a non-stop line of requests and arguments. Made sense he’d caught the attention of one of the Bats. Should have expected it sooner.

Danny ignored all the voices around him and looked at Nightwing directly as he prattled off his usual list when someone caught him talking to thin air.

“No, I’m not hallucinating. I got all my Rogue Gallery immunizations the day I checked onto campus. I’m not schizophrenic. The only meds I take are for adhd and the occasional Tylenol. I’m not a danger to myself or others. Unless they attack me first.”

Nightwing nodded along, but tilted his head at the end.

“I’m talking to the dead,” Danny answered the unspoken question in a tired monotone, waiting for the usual skepticism or plea for help with lost loved ones.

“Oh. Okay then.”

“What?” That wasn’t expected.

“No yeah, that makes sense.”

Danny was sure his jaw was on the ground. “You… you believe me?”

“Well sure,” the hero shrugged and chuckled. “I can’t see ghosts myself but I know a couple magicians who work with one, and my little brother Robin has a ghost on his team - she’s actually visible most of the time so I don’t know if that’s a special skill or something else going on. But I’m glad you’re okay and don’t need any emergency medication. I know a couple 24 hour pharmacies that would help but it’s nice when they’re not needed. We don’t get a lot of mediums around Gotham holding court at night so you really can’t fault me for checking in.”

Danny was still floating in the relief of not being questioned or doubted. That hadn’t happened since Jazz found out his secret. She’d had plenty of questions about his halfa status, of course, but never called him crazy for talking to things others couldn’t see. Even Sam and Tucker would forget sometimes and give him strange looks before realizing he was dealing with a Shade, Wisp, or Memory.

He didn’t realize he was wobbling until Nightwing’s arms shot out to stabilize him.

Danny blinked up at the pretty face that was trying not to chuckle, held by strong arms, and so far past tired he might be getting delirious after all because his brain seemed to have lost its filter and he said out loud,

“You actually believe me. I think I love you.”

Then the horrifying embarrassment hit at the same time as Nightwing’s laughter. Which… sounded delighted rather than mean spirited?

“Well now it’s your turn to wait in line, cuz that’s the fourth confession I’ve had this week!” They both devolved into snorts and giggles, Danny still relying on those arms for balance, but when they’d caught their breath the vigilante said, “Come on, you’ve really got to get some sleep. I’ll walk you back to your dorm.”

Ignoring the whispers and grumbles of the Shades was easier with someone walking beside him.

This is so incredibly cute oml. It’s so rare to see the bats actually go with the flow and god it isn’t done enough. 12/10 immaculate, glorious.

The entire plot I can see so clearly in my mind dude:

Danny chatting to Nightwing as they walk to his dorm

Nightwing asking some casual questions about ghosts and Danny asking about vigilante work.

Nightwing informs the Bats of Danny as he might be a valuable asset in the future.

Nightwing helps free shades with Danny and he realizes why Danny is so incredibly tired all the time.

Nightwing managing to stumble into Danny every day of his break, slowly getting to know each other more and more and becoming really good friends (perhaps lovers 👀).

Wonderful stuff man ty for the ask!

[comatosebunny09]

carpe noctem [ rising action ] | sylus

— summary: you’ve convinced yourself that this is normal. routine. that you’re used to this, sitting like a fly on the wall while their relationship blossoms like a flower turned towards the sun before you. so why does it still hurt? — cw: reader is not mc, reader implied to be femme, assassin!reader, unrequited feelings, mentions of blood & injuries, jealousy, profanity, sexual content, fade-to-black, self-destructive behavior, somewhat of a slow burn, mdni — notes: thank you so much for reading! [ part 1 | part 2 ] — now playing: bmf - sza

Breakfast is uncharacteristically quiet. 

At least, for the three of you, it is. The silence makes way for the lazy swish of cars on the road, the clatter of cutlery against plates, and the idle chatter of the cafe’s other patrons. 

It’s balmy outside. The type of weather that pastes your blouse to your skin and creates a fine film of sweat on the back of your neck. The kind that welcomes mosquitos and makes showering beforehand pointless. And it’s so obnoxiously bright out, nary a cloud in the sky. But you figure you're being unreasonably antsy because you’re hungover and still a little tired. 

Despite the climate, your ragtag team is seated beneath a cafe’s awning, scarfing down food to battle the effects of your collective hangovers before jetting back to Linkon.

Typically, Ms. Hunter would be on about something, filling the space with her animated talk, with you and Sylus occasionally chiming in to tease her or exchange covert words concerning upcoming missions. But she’s still a little worse for wear, with dark lenses perched on her nose and a wrinkle between her brows as she pushes food around her plate.

You snort around a mouthful of eggs at her plight, tucking your amusement behind your hand. Decide to incite a little mischief to distract yourself from the weather and the creeping feeling of unease brewing in your gut. 

“Someone had a rough night,” you tease, reaching for your orange juice.

She glowers at you. Sticks out her tongue, flipping you the bird. You snort into your drink, nearly sending pulp flying every which way.

“Not my fault you have the tolerance of a three-year-old.”

Your eyes crease at the corners whilst you watch her work up to a retort, mouth hanging open like a fish out of water. But before she can get a word out—

“Ladies,” Sylus interjects like a distant clap of thunder pushing across a dark horizon. He’s seated between you at the round, iron-wrought table, arms crossed over a broad chest. Sunglasses shroud scarlet intentions, but you don’t miss the twitch of a silver brow nor the humor meddling with his voice. “Play nice.” 

There’s finality there. He speaks to you like a referee. Like a father who’s caught his children roughhousing, and you both shrink beneath his mock disappointment. 

“Besides,” Sylus continues, casting his amused gaze on you. “You weren’t in the best of shape yourself last night. Are you really in any position to talk?” 

A hot rush of mortification wades over you. You're unsure of its source, whether at your memories of last night or how quickly he came to her defense. 

And so what if you stumbled a bit down the hall, searching for your room? 

You didn’t think he noticed after your exchange. Figured he retreated into his room, or worse—slipped across the hall to keep his hunter friend company into the wee hours of the morning while you tossed and turned, driven to hell by thoughts of them doing everything besides sleeping. 

The recollection makes you bristle, and you turn a scowl down to your food. Grumbling, you plop a slice of toast onto the hunter’s plate. She glances at you, confusion pulling her lips down. 

“Eat,” you order. “Feed a hangover, starve a cold.”

“I don’t think that’s how that goes,” she counters, a pout evident in her voice. But she doesn’t protest, sitting up in her seat to nibble on your peace offering.

You resist an impulse to pat her head, your ire sloughing off, traded for something like fondness. You want to ruffle locks of silken ebony because she’s effortlessly adorable, pulling at those little heartstrings you’d worked so hard to conceal. 

Sylus beats you to the punch, leaning forward to mold long fingers around the round of her head. The world slows, casting a special spotlight on the pair of them. 

You ignore how your chest tightens at the scene. At the affectionate little tug of his lips as Ms. Hunter cants her face towards him, cheeks full and expression doe-like. You try to pretend like it doesn’t make you sick with resentment. Once upon a time, he used to look at you like that. 

Fuck. 

What are you thinking? He is your boss, and she is your charge—your friend. There’s no reason to feel like this, especially considering you practically shoved Sylus into her arms, reasoning you never stood a chance in hell with him. 

You snap back to the present, and suddenly, breakfast isn’t so appetizing. You push around your cold eggs as Sylus and Ms. Hunter slide into easy conversation. You feel like a husk of yourself amid them. Like you’re impeding on something intimate, and your stomach lurches when they draw you into their chat every so often as if pitying you.

You’ve convinced yourself that this is normal. Routine. That you’re used to this, sitting like a fly on the wall while their relationship blossoms like a flower turned towards the sun. And yet, you’ve never been more eager to return to the N109 Zone. To leave these green-eyed thoughts on this island and get back to your distracting life, luring terrible people to their demise and wiping the scourge of man off the face of the planet. 

You suddenly straighten, clearing the phlegm from your throat. Your silverware clatters against your plate as you shove it away, eyes regretfully shifting between them.

“So, what time do we leave?” There’s a whisper of exasperation in your tone, but you quickly conceal it with that playful arrogance you’re known for. 

Sylus and the hunter trade looks of confusion and humor, blind to the turmoil of your mind slowly creeping through the folds and staining your pride like ink spilled into water.

“Eager to get back to work, aren’t you?”

You scoff, taking up your fork, clueless to scarlet eyes studying the crown of your head, narrowing at the apprehensive slope of your voice. “You have no idea.”

—

It’s a pleasure to dance. Of course, it always is. It’s one of the few times you feel desired. Wanted. Useful when your hands aren’t speckled with blood and your knuckles aren’t purpling from bashing someone’s face in for taunting The Devil. 

Dancing is a versatile skill you’ve acquired with time and practice. It's one of the few pleasures you’ve drawn from this fickle life. One of the few things you kept from a past veiled in darkness, the rest tucked away in the hulls of your psyche.  

All eyes are on you. Gazes burning with assorted degrees of desire, envy, and awe beneath the tawny glow of the stage lights. The attention makes you warm and tingly, and your lips salaciously curve as you move your body in time with the music, casting an inadvertent spell on all who dare to watch. 

You’re the center of attention without trying to be and without the influence of your Evol. Of course, you usually are. He’s even told you so. Customers often flock to Sylus’ nightclubs to see you dance, hoping to one day have your affections. 

Or to fuck you. 

You rarely entertain these people. Not unless you have to. Not unless Sylus sicks you on them to further his goals or take down his competition. You’re ever the faithful lapdog, tuned to your boss’ every command, and it makes you sick with how loyal you are to him sometimes. A part of you feels you owe him for this life you lead. He’d snatched you from an impenetrable darkness. Renewed your sense of purpose and redirected your desire for revenge. 

For now, you have this. The recognition of others despite how misplaced it is. They want you for your body, for the promise of what your facade offers. Deep down, you crave something more, something real. But you tamp down those feelings as you bite your lip, putting on a good show, hands smoothing over the surge of your hips. And you’re spurred by the whoops and whistles and shouts of your name as the lights dim, signaling the conclusion of your performance.

Your chest heaves with the effort of breathing, and your cheeks ache with a smile as you pose. The crowd's cheers dampen the violent thrum of your heartbeat—chase away the cacophony of your mind, adrenaline spuming through you like an erupting geyser. 

You look over your shoulder towards the ceiling, catching scarlet-spun eyes from the upper floor’s rail, and your grin twitches the slightest bit. It’s a rush, having the attention of strangers. Having their desire, their yearning. But his attention is much more addicting like Nicotine furling between your teeth. For a moment, you feel seen. Like you’re the center of his universe, and not the pretty, bright-eyed damsel with enough room in her heart to house the galaxy.

Something flashes in his eyes, and the world fades. You mistake it for tenderness. Just wishful thinking. He would never choose you. He’s had four years to make you his. 

Why would he suddenly choose to acknowledge you now?

—

Once the adrenaline ebbs and clubbers flood the dance floor, you’re nestled behind the crowd, leaning against the sticky countertop of the bar, clutching a glass of something acrid and glacial between your fingers—something to take the edge off. To mute the insistent pulse of your nerves.

The music thumps beneath your feet, accompanied by the sparkling chatter of the club’s other clients. Yet you still hear him amid the chaos—the familiar curl of a voice around the vowels of your name. You fix him with an amused, sultry look beneath Lux’s customary red hue. 

“When are you gonna let me take you out on a date?” he asks, worn knuckles easing down the slope of your arm. You track his audacity with your eyes, jerking away from his unwarranted attention, ignoring the goosebumps igniting across your skin.

This, too, is routine—one of Lux’s regulars throwing himself at your feet, begging for an opportunity to court you.  He’s been on like this for months, entertaining your game of cat and mouse. Maybe you’ve given him a false sense of hope because he’s yet to let up. In fact, he’s grown bolder with his advances lately, often popping up when you least expect him, vying for your heart.

It’s endearing, really, having someone who genuinely wants you. Or maybe he doesn’t, but you convince yourself otherwise. Play a sick little game with yourself, fooling yourself into thinking that maybe there’s more to you than your reputation builds you up to be.

You turn towards him, crossing your legs, the leather barstool sticky beneath your thighs. You lean into your knuckles, studying dark brows, whiskey-infused eyes, and full lips. You end your excursion at the thick of his throat, excitement prickling like static in your chest. He’s easy on the eyes, tone velvet smooth. Had you not been a femme fatale, you might’ve given him the time of day.

But for now—

“You couldn’t handle me,” you counter, reveling in how the smugness melts from his face.

He chuckles at your cheekiness, sweeping the tails of his blazer back and stuffing his hands into his pockets. Squares his shoulders, standing akimbo like he’s preparing for a fight, though he might as well be, stepping to you like this.

“Still holding out for that old man, I see.”

It is your turn to wear a wavering smile. Your turn to look silly, the proverbial knife driven into your stomach and twisted. 

You scoff with a sneer, dumping the last vestiges of your drink down your throat. You tear yourself from your seat, reaching past the gentleman to snatch your coat from the counter, pinning him with a haughty look. 

“I’m not holding out for anyone, fucker. And even if I were, it wouldn't be your slow ass.”

With a huff, you brush past him, wending through the crowd gathered on the dance floor to retreat into your dressing room. 

You try vainly to contain a scowl, knowing you’ve been read like the deckled pages of a book deep down. 

Maybe you refuse to move on because you feel like you’d betray Sylus if you did. How, exactly, you’re unsure. He’s had no problem betraying you, quietly shoving you out of the picture in favor of someone who’s hardly seen him bleed. 

—

“Do you like anybody?” Ms. Hunter asks above the steady purr of the SUV’s engine.

Her question nearly floors you. Your grip on the steering wheel tightens slightly, and you almost choke on your spittle. 

You’re stuck in traffic together. 

Knowing the holidays loomed around the bend, someone decided it would be an ideal day to go to the mall. Of course, you weren’t the only people out on the road. 

So naturally, she’s bored, unused to the silence stretching between you. The low croon of the music spilling from the speakers does nothing to ease the tension.

You glance at her, and she’s wearing a Cheshire Cat-like grin, studying you from the passenger seat. You swallow thickly, adjusting your shades on your face, staring at the cars sluggishly easing up beyond the windshield. “I don’t like very many people.”

An exasperated sigh later.

“C’mon! There’s gotta be someone you like. Ya’ know.” She pitches herself closer, her mischievous grin curling in your periphery, and she pokes your side with a pointed finger to get a rise out of you. 

“Someone that gets your heart racing. Someone who makes your face all hot. Makes butterflies swarm in your tummy.” 

You know exactly where this is going. Had you not valued your friendship—or whatever you call this complicated mashup between you—you would reveal the inner workings of your mind. But how insane would you sound, telling the hunter the person who gets your blood racing is the very same man she has tucked in her back pocket?

So, you deflect. With a sardonic smirk, you jest, “You get my heart racing when you fuck up our meetings.”

You squint and flinch away with a laugh in your throat as she swats you, whining at your cruelty. 

“You suck,” pouts Ms. Hunter, falling back into her seat with crossed arms. “Bet it’s that guy who always stalks you at Lux.”

You side-eye her in the rearview, placatingly patting her head. “I like you, stupid. Isn’t that good enough?”

Maybe one day. 

One day, you’ll have the intestinal fortitude to tell her the truth—to tell them both the truth. How you’re falling apart at the stitching, the world you know falling away from beneath your feet.

—

You’re not as strong as you let on. You’re human beneath that flirtatious exterior—still a woman with wants and needs, not immune to the temptations of the flesh. Which is why you find yourself at his doorstep, a glacial, errant breeze ruffling the tails of your coat as the silvery moon haloes your silhouette.

He leans against the doorframe, brown eyes simmering with intrigue as he takes you in. Dark hair sweeps over raised brows. “What made you change your mind?”

You shrug, hands stuffed in your pockets, a quirk to your lips. “Maybe I just need a friend.”

He chuckles low, arms crossed. “A friend, huh?” 

“Yeah.”

There’s no mistaking the pitch of your voice. The air charges with something amorous as he ushers you into his apartment. You brush past him, tamping down your dignity as you disappear into the warm sanctity of his home, his hand reassuring at the small of your back.

Had you taken the time to survey your surroundings, you would’ve noticed a set of beady, crimson eyes peering through the inky night, watching you from their perch atop a powerline.

And had you further investigated, you would’ve heard the familiar whirr of machinery as the iridescent outline of sleek feathers recorded your every move.

[sucodelaranja86]

heyy! a fluff request for f!reader x hyun-ju (established relationship). Reader just got back home from a trip so hyun-ju couldn't help but be clingy when she got back home.

- did you miss me? : ★

featuring: hyun-ju cho x reader

summary: after a long trip, you come back home to your girlfriend who missed you more than she can express.

warnings: none

genre: fluff + comfort

A/N: a good part of it re-seted itself in my drafts.

★ . ★ . ★ . ★

➤ As you hopped off the bus, the front of your apartment was finally visible. Although you would normally be feeling tired by the end of your trip, there was a feeling that easily overpowered you body basic needs.

And that was the loneliness you felt without you beloved girlfriend. Over the time of this trip, you could finally realize how dependent you actually were on her. 3 weeks without her warm meals, 3 weeks without her soothing voice waking you up and putting you to sleep, without her energetic "welcome home" everytime you came back and opened that door.

And most of all, 3 weeks without any physical affection from her. You were going crazy!

As you quickly stumbled upstairs, you were greeted with the familiar door of your apartment. She messaged you that she didn't have any plans for today- which was great, she must be home. You messily picked up your keys and took a good 10 seconds to get the door open, trembling from anticipation.

As the door opens, you are greeted with the sight of your so beloved home, and a delicious smell that plagued the entire ambient. She must have already made dinner!

As you walk quietly throught the door leading to the kitchen, you see a familiar sight that you missed so much. She was wearing her typical messy ponytail, and a thin pair of sleepwear that consisted of shorts and a strap shirt.

A sight you definitively needed to see after a long day.

As she was cutting what you presumed that were vegetables, you quietly make you way behind her, trying to make a surprise, and-

"i know you are there, my love."

Stupid military experience.

She puts the knife down and makes her way towards you, pulling you into a tight hug. You both squish each other out of neediness. The longing you two felt while being away from each other felt terrible, but you're glad it's now over.

Your cute moment is temporarily interrupted as she purposefully squishes your face onto her chest, a playful smile on her face.

"Did you miss me, hm?"

Oh, she knew the effect she had on you, didn't she?

-

Dinner was long-time ready, but you couldn't bring yourself to get up and eat.

As you were cuddling with your needy girlfriend, it was like seeing a whole new person. Who would tell that the usually adult-like person of the relationship would be reduced to a puddle of clingyness?

As you planted kisses along the top of her head, you couldn't help but imagine how long this would last?

Is not like you weren't enjoying it, it was the absolute contrary! You loved every single second of being with her. It was just...

You couldn't breathe.

When you imagined a 'bone-crushing' hug, you didn't meant it literally. As your partner, even in her sleep, seemed to want to perpetrate your heart.

You tried to move out of her hug, even if it was just a bit. But again, her military experience seemed to just complicate your life.

"... Where are you going?"

She said in a groggy tone, still holding like an anime high-school girl into your left arm.

"Do my plate for dinner."

"... Please... stay"

Who even was this impostor? Your girlfriend who nagged you if you skipped a single meal was not this clingy creature-! It seemed that you created a whole new person by just staying out for a few days.

Before you could object further, she used her weight to pull you down again. This time, snuggling your face, again, agaisnt her chest.

"Goodnight, my love..." she muttered in a sleepy tone.

. . .

Dinner could wait.

"Goodnight, Hyun-ju."

★ . ★ . ★ . ★

[ennabear]

enananan wants blurb ideas plu can deliver for bae💚 SHUTTING SEV UP WITH KISSES PLEASE!! maybe like she's getting grumpy :sevikaeyebrow: but r is like nope!! SMOOCH i love u twinsy go get em <3

HEHE HAII TWINSY!!! SMOOCH FOR U hehehe thanks for this idea i need to blurb about my wife because i miss her… grumpy sev is my baeee hehehe she’s just a little baby bear cub 🤎🤎🤎

sevika often comes home at late hours in the night or even early in the morning, so she’s never really in a great mood. although your version of ‘scary lady’ is just her grumbling about stubbing her toes on your furniture or demanding a back massage. but still, your babe is sleep deprived, hungry, and most of all, she misses you.

you have a habit of making sure she has everything she’ll need when she gets home, like a meal, a neat and tidy bed, a drink if she needs one, a warm bath if it’s been one of those weeks. she’s always immensely grateful for it, even though to anyone else she might seem to be unhappy. but you can tell that she appreciates and loves you, especially when she cuddles you to sleep or when she wakes you up with her tongue stuffed in your cunt.

tonight, she comes home angry and growling as always. jinx has gotten herself in trouble as always, and no matter how much she tries to keep the kid in line, she always blows it up. literally. and sevika is left not only cleaning up her messes, but silco’s too. it annoys her, and it’s exhausting, and all she wants to do when she comes home is just get all of her frustration out.

so when she walks in through the front door, she sighs, takes a seat, and starts sipping at the glass of whiskey you’ve poured for her. you can tell by the crease between her brows and the way her lips are pouted that there’s something on her mind, and you know that she’s just itching to get it off of her chest.

“how was your day?” you prompt.

she sighs deeply, closing her eyes and exhaling through her nose. “i hate my job sometimes.”

“really? i thought you liked helping your people.”

“not when jinx kills them all.”

and her tangent has started. she tells you all about how silco had her running around the city all day, in and out of buildings, up and down between topside and bottom, tracking shipments, meeting people, cleaning the bar, babysitting jinx, finding information, etc.

what she hasn’t noticed is that you’ve been sneaking closer to her while she talks. she’s too busy in her own world, ranting about jinx and silco and the chembarons and the enforcers, and suddenly you’re wrapping your arms around her and pressing your lips against hers.

you smile against her, you know that she likes to vent sometimes, but you also know that it’s good for her to just move on and enjoy your presence. she sighs against you, pulling away with another pout. some of her brown lipstick has smudged against your lips, so she reaches forward to smear it off.

“sorry, am i boring you?” she says with a sleepy grin.

“yeah, a little.” you tease. “why don’t we go to bed, babe. i know you’re tired.”

sevika also likes to overshare when she’s drunk. it doesn’t take much, just a few drinks and a steady conversation to start her rambling.

sometimes it’s dangerous, she’ll start talking to some random goon about silco’s plans and incoming shimmer shipments, and you have to swoop in and start making out with her before she reveals to much and loses her job.

other times it’s cute. she’ll get a little tipsy, the bar will be somewhat empty, the lights shining perfectly on your skin, and she’ll just dump out a million reasons as to why she’s in love with you. she gets so adorable and soft, her cheeks get firm with a smile reaching from one ear to the other, her eyes squinting closed a little, and it’s hard not to lean forward and shut up her words with your kisses.

it’s not like she minds, though. she never minds. her favorite thing in the world is the feeling of your lips on hers, and that sweet feeling of love that it brings to her. whether she’s had the worst day ever or not, she knows that you’ll find a way to comfort her with your sweet kisses, and she instantly forgets all about what caused her to start talking in the first place.

[thoughtfulfiction]

Full of Surprises

Author’s note: My first Joe request from a gorgeous anon! Hope you, my angel @emmyblues and all the other New Years babies had an amazing birthday!!!

Pancakes. Waffles. Is both too much? A little fruit on the side? Should he have bacon on the plate? What about eggs?

“Joe,” he snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of a perturbed voice. “What should I make? I’d like to know today, please.”

The man continues walking around the kitchen, running through the plan in his head. It’s honestly causing him more effort than most of his pregame prep. Football was easy, it was x’s and o’s, utilizing his cadence and dissecting some of the best defenses the league has ever seen. Simple things. Planning the perfect birthday wasn’t exactly something he’d practiced his entire life but it was the first one he’d be spending with you living together so he was willing to try his best to make it unforgettable.

“Okay,” he places his hands on the counter, facing his chef. The first order of business for the day was to deliver you breakfast in bed but he loved you too much to make you sit through a meal he cooked. So he called in a professional to start the day off on the right foot. “Chocolate chip pancakes. Final answer.”

“Thank you,” his chef Morgan cracks a tiny smile, patting Joe on the back. “Relax man, she’s gonna love it. If anything, today might be a little over the top but hey—I’d go all out for my girl too.”

That did nothing to ease his worries. He made his way to the living room to touch up some of the decorations and make sure that the layout is how he pictured it in his mind. He thinks for a second, laughing to himself about how you’re still peacefully sleeping upstairs and he’s running around like a headless chicken. By the time he’s putting on the finishing touches, the food is ready and he needs to wake you up so you have time to eat and spend a little time together before he has to leave for practice.

You wake up to the most delicate kisses peppering your face, your neck, your collarbone. Trying to ignore it, you pull the covers over your face but your morning energy, or lack thereof, is no match for him. He easily takes the comforter away, pulling you in close enough to have his mouth back on your skin, kissing your shoulder. Each gentle touch enhances the beautiful wake-up call.

“Good morning sunshine,” he states calmly, “happy birthday.”

You hum tiredly, opening your eyes to ogle at him in all of his glory. His icy blue eyes peering into your soul, the way his arm muscles clench while holding onto the tray full of food that he sets in your lap. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of this view, of being in his orbit…as long as you live. And he’s completely dedicated to making this entire day all about you. “Thank you baby,” you cover your mouth and back away when he leans in, “morning breath?”

Joe scoffs, “come here woman,” he grabs you by your legs, wrapping them around his waist and reaching over to present the most perfect platter of pancakes you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Thank you! You didn’t have to wake up extra early and do all this,” you give him a very quick peck, immediately digging in.

He takes a piece of fruit off of your plate and pops it into his mouth, “thank Morgan actually. I didn’t make any of it. But…I do have big plans for you today.”

“Oh you do?”

Joe nods, grabbing your fork so he can feed you. He sat there and helped you finish the plate, giving you a kiss after each bite. Once you were finished, he let you brush your teeth before pulling out a blindfold.

“This is a bit kinky…” you trail off as the light is replaced with complete and utter darkness. Joe gently ties the blindfold after wrapping it around your head and waving his hand in front of your face to make sure you can’t see.

“Maybe I’ll save it for later,” Joe growls into your ear, playfully smacking your butt before grabbing your hand slowly walking the two of you out of the room.

The gentle padding of his feet on the ground, leading you down the stairs is the one thing you can focus on. You knew he was only leading you to the living room but you really don’t mind trusting blindly to hold your hand through life and wherever it may take you.

Light comes back to your world when your boyfriend takes off the blindfold, his mischievous smile making an appearance.

“Joseph…what did you do?”

He puts his hands up, looking at you like he has no clue what you’re talking about. The entire living room is covered in balloons, two giant gold numbers depicting your age sit on the couch, surrounded by a array of lavish gift bags. “Oh, I almost forgot,” Joe rushes out, taking long strides toward the doorway and coming back with his hands behind his back. The birthday hat you made him wear a few weeks ago is suddenly now on your head and he takes a picture of you in the middle of the room and you feel like you’ve just won a spelling bee. “You can take it off now if you want, I promised my mom I’d get you back for making me wear the stupid hat. But you look good in the stupid hat so it’s not as funny.”

“Aw you’re so sweet,” you tell him with a laugh, kissing him on the cheek as he hands you the first gift.

The first three bags are Bvlgari. A complete matching set containing a ring, necklace and a bracelet. All gold. The next bag is Gucci, an ivory bucket hat.

“I have the same one in black. Figured we could match,” Joe shrugs, handing you the next one.

Calf length leather boots, with red bottoms. Then another pair of boots, which could be considered more casual since they’re Chelsea boots…except they’re Prada. And of course, he got you the Prada travel bag you mentioned in passing nearly a month ago. “Thank you. You really did not have to get me all this stuff. All of this is beautiful and so thoughtful.”

You wrap your arms around him, hugging him tight and giving him a tender kiss on the lips. “What did I do in my past life to deserve you?”

Most of your early relationship you tried to be firm in letting him know you weren’t with him for the stuff he can buy you. Over time as the trust and love continued to build between you two, you realized that it wasn’t the end of the world to be pampered and showered with gifts every now and then, internal cringing less at the thought of the prices at the end of his gift receipts. The man seemed satisfied with how his first two surprises had gone, letting you know that your friend Ryan was on her way to pick you up as soon as he was gone for practice. Every detail had been carefully planned out so you wouldn’t be alone and bored while he was gone.

As soon as he was out the door you took your time getting ready, putting your new items away in their respective places. Ryan texted you that she was on her way after you got out of the shower, not telling you where you were headed so you opted for minimal makeup and a casual but cute outfit and some sneakers in case there was walking involved.

The surprise ended up being an extensive spa treatment. A 75 minute deep tissue massage and a Vitamin C facial. Then there was the mani-pedi, hydrotherapy soak and exfoliating scrub included. You felt the most relaxed you’ve felt in years, all the tension was released literally from the top of your head and neck area to your feet.

Your home was eerily quiet when you and Ryan came back. The lights were off and Joe was nowhere to be found, even though the car he took when he left that morning was back in its usual spot in the garage.

“Babe? Are you home?” You called out, starting to search for him.

Ryan turned on the kitchen lights and suddenly the room was filled with people yelling “surprise!” Your mom and Joe’s mom were there, along with several of your friends, a few Bengals players and their significant others were also in attendance.

On the side table was a massive spread of food, mostly comprised of your favorites and you bravely held back the wave of emotion to greet everyone and thank them for coming. Having a birthday on a holiday has never been easy. Growing up it was a time where people were either out of town to celebrate with their families or it was just simply too much work to even want to plan anything concrete in case plans had to be moved around or cancelled. You sometimes felt like the day was completely overshadowed. Now that you were an adult it wasn’t the biggest deal in the world as long as you had a relaxing and relatively fun day but for Joe to gather some of your favorite people in the world all in one place to be with you on your birthday meant more than you could explain. Speaking of Joe, you hadn’t seen him yet.

You are in the middle of asking Chase Brown’s girlfriend Jazmyn if she has everything she needs from her baby registry when you spot him. In his hands is the most beautiful heart shaped gold birthday cake and he’s beaming as he starts the “happy birthday” song and everyone in the room joins in. Your eyes are closed when he sets the cake in front of you, telling you to make a wish. The first reaction is to ask him what more could you wish for when you have everything you could possibly want right in front of you, yet you indulge him and stand still to think for a little while before blowing out your candles and letting people try the cake.

Between the conversations about playoff scenarios and resolutions for the new year, the room is bustling with activity. Even Joe seems relaxed, a water bottle in hand and never really taking interest in being more than five feet away from you at all times. You catch his eyes a few times throughout the afternoon, a comforting smile here and there going a long way while the people in your home happily mingle and make significant dents in the amount of food available. Nobody really seems to notice that the two of you have snuck off other than your moms, who exchange knowing smiles.

“Alright, you have to stop.” You tell him once you’re finally alone.

“Stop what? What am I doing?”

“Stop looking at me with that face. That I’ve seen you naked several times face, don’t give me that face. Not with my mom in the room. Because when you make that face and you’re staring at me with that—freaking stare I want to do something about it. And I can’t. Cause my mom is in the room. And so is yours. So stop it. That should’ve been my birthday wish.”

Joe rolls his eyes, closing the already short distance between you. “Well, when you say a wish out loud, it doesn’t come true.”

He’s looking at you again, less intense this time, more…soft. You’re the only person in the world that gets to see him like this, completely undone and void of his impenetrable exterior. This is the man you’ve continued to fall in love with the more you’ve gotten to know him. And when your lips meet his you can’t help but grin, brushing your finger along the side of his jaw with your thumb. The kiss is as soft as a feather, almost painfully slow as Joe teases you, letting you trace his top lip with your tongue until he opens his mouth and takes charge. Before the kiss goes any further he pulls away, sitting down in one of the oversized swivel chairs in the corner of the room and letting you settle on his thigh.

“When did you have time to do all this?” You ask him earnestly, “I mean with your schedule and the end of the season. How did you—”

He leans into your touch, kissing the tiny space behind your ear that he knows makes your skin feel like it’s on fire. “No matter what’s going on in my life, I will always find time to celebrate my favorite person in the entire world. I really wanted you to feel special today.”

“You make me feel special everyday. But for what it’s worth, you’re my favorite person in the world too.”

Joe kissed you on the head, patting your leg so you can stand up first. He tells you to wait here, signaling there’s one more surprise in store. In his hand is a card for you to read…alone. “I’ll be out there making sure Sam hasn’t eaten all of your cake,” he jokes, giving your hand a squeeze on his way out.

Running your fingers across the front of the letter, you admire Joe’s handwriting, trying to think of what could possibly be inside the envelope. Your curiosity gets the best of you rather quickly and you’re tearing it open, holding a small piece of paper in your hand.

Happy birthday baby,

I’ve been thinking about the perfect way to close out the day. Then I thought about birthday sex and doing unspeakable things to each other and got a little distracted. So I took a break to regroup and come up with an actual plan. Today is about you and how amazing you are. How you’ve changed my life for the better. How you’ve been my rock every step of the way during this up and down season. One that I wouldn’t trade for the world because at the end of the day, I get to play football, which love and then I get to come home to you, which I’m starting to love more and more every day. You’re my dream come true and I’m so lucky to get to do life with you.

And if you ever tell anyone I wrote you a love letter on your birthday I’ll deny it. We are taking this to the grave.

I love you,

Joe

You were already in tears halfway through the letter, the waterworks in full effect when two tickets to Disneyland in Tokyo were taped to the bottom of the letter.

How was he ever going to outdo this birthday?

The Bengals should seriously consider signing you for a short term contract the way you wrap Joe up in your arms as soon as you spot him. If he hadn’t seen you coming and knew your reaction, you probably could’ve taken him to the ground. “I take it you liked the present?”

You shrug, “not a bad first offseason trip,” the facade quickly fades and you hug him again, “thank you Joey, for everything today…and everyday. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He leans into you, resting his head on yours for a few seconds.

Tilting you head up, you look at him. “Wait…is this why you got us the bucket hats?”

“That’s exactly why I got us the bucket hats. We gotta fit the vibe babe. Blend in.”

You huff out a laugh. “Right. Of course.”

You once scoffed at an 8:30pm bedtime and now it was hard to keep your eyes open at 9:16pm, laying in bed next to Joe. And you swear you just heard him giggle, leaving you wide awake.

“Did you party too hard birthday girl?”

“It’s not funny! I’m getting too old for this,” you mumble into his side.

Sometimes you don’t even remember what life was like before him. And you definitely don’t want to know a life without him. Here he was Mr. Football fiend, in the middle of the season, going above and beyond to make you feel celebrated, special and loved beyond measure. And he’s always so warm, being in his arms is grounding you, slowly lulling you back to sleep.

The two of took a power nap so you could make it to the ball drop. At 11:59, he wished you happy birthday again and you kissed him at midnight wishing him a happy new year.

“Thank you for escaping the womb. I’m really glad you did that.” He pulls on your—well his—hoodie strings so you can’t see, kissing your nose.

“You’re a freaking idiot.”

[witherby]

Part 7 of mer!reader?🫣🫣🫣

Of course! I think it's time to get you and Damian back together.

Human!Damian x Mer!Reader Part 7

Masterlist with all parts Here!

Content features upsetting Mer behavior and unsafe diving practices. Wear your protective gear, people!

It takes another month for your routine to settle back into a semblance of normalcy. The specialists Bruce told Damian about had spent three days observing your behaviors and drew up a detailed care plan to help you recover as best as you could, which the facility follows with great enthusiasm.

You wake up and swim to the entrance of the tank to receive breakfast from Jon. Afterwards, he and Clark gently roll you out of the tank to apply weird-smelling salves to the patches on your tail, encouraging it to heal correctly and for new scales to grow. You sit and wait for the salve to absorb, then you get back into the water to play a little, and then it's Attention Time.

You swim all the way to the bottom floor of your tank, where visitors come admire you through the tunnels under your tank for several hours. Sometimes you have the energy to do a trick or two.

Then, it's back up to the top of the tank for dinner, more playtime, and then you get to sleep until tomorrow where you do it all again.

But the lethargy remains. The stinging, empty space in your chest only seems to grow the more you see Damian dispassionately leading tours and refusing to look at you. Of all the people that come to admire you, the one person whose attention you actually want, you cannot get.

Jon, bless him, is trying so hard to keep you happy. He talks to you every day, he gives you tons of treats, he swims with you as long as you want him to, and he's given you so many new toys that they've overtaken your cute rock collection. His effort is why you're doing your best to hide how bad you still feel.

And his company does help! It does. You can comfortably call him a friend, and mean it. But you are so tired. You miss Damian so much. You feel drained, and the urge to remain inside your little hideout gets stronger every passing day.

Every night, in the comforting darkness of your castle spire, the old bricks pressing against your body and shielding you from the rest of the world, you allow your thoughts to drift back to the boy with beautiful, emerald eyes without fail.

You think of the first time you met him, and how he looked at you as just another dumb animal in the aquarium for him to care for. You think of the first time you made him realize you were so much more — how you'd done every trick he commanded with such attitude and even mocked him back that he actually cracked a smile. You think of the first time you pulled him into the water to show him your favorite parts of your habitat, and then how he reassured you it was fine that you almost drowned him by accident because he knew you hadn't meant to. You think of all the times he snuck in after hours to spend just a little more time with you, to play just one more game, to ensure you didn't feel like another part of his job he had to do but someone he genuinely looked forward to seeing.

You think of the pretty blush on his face when you mustered the courage to give him your scales.

You think of all the gifts you left him afterwards, and how you didn't get any back.

You think of his dispassionate expression as he leads another group of visitors into your enclosure, day after day after day.

Your chest burns. You weep into the water and succumb to fitful slumber.

--

"I need a dive team to the Mer tank please! Right now!"

Damian furrows his brow, momentarily pausing his work. He's in the dolphin exhibit currently hand-feeding them when the announcement comes over the speaker system. He wonders what you're doing to have freaked Jon out, but it's not his place to care anymore, so he tries to push the curiosity from his mind and refocus on his task.

One dolphin in particular is pretty bad about taking food from a handler. It's also just food aggressive in general, bullying its pod-mates out of the way to get to the food first. Damian can't help but compare how much smarter you are to these animals. He sighs.

"Doctor Kent to the Mer exhibit!"

Hmm. Did you breach your tank again? Or maybe you bumped your body against the spire you like to sleep inside. Damian tried to tell his father that the rough brick texture could hurt your more vulnerable top half if not careful, but Bruce was certain you'd be alright. He wonders what kind of fuss you're kicking up today, if it's a real issue or if Jon hasn't been around you long enough to realize that sometimes you fake a problem because it's funny.

"All divers to the Mer exhibit please!"

Tim rushes through the door into the dolphin exhibit, startling Damian into dropping the bucket. He quickly backs up with a gasp as the dolphins swarm to the food and start gobbling it up. He faces Tim with a glare.

"Does nobody know how to follow protocol anymore? You're supposed to knock before you —"

"You need to get upstairs," Tim says, holding up an access key to your enclosure, "like right now. Vitals on our mer are really bad, we can't extract them from the spire and —"

Damian doesn't stick around to hear him finish that sentence. He snatches the key and sprints through the aquarium like the devil's on his fucking heels. His heart is racing and not from the exertion. He forgoes the elevator and starts rushing up the stairs three at a time, climbing floor by floor by floor to get to you as fast as he can.

It was a real emergency, then? What had happened? Jon was supposed to be taking care of you now. You were supposed to be recovering. You were supposed to be happier without him, now.

What was wrong with you?

There's no time to head into the locker room and get a wetsuit on. He jams the key into the exhibit door and throws it open, rushing into the room with single-minded focus.

Jon is in a wetsuit and treading water, relaying information to his dad with a worried frown. Clark is kneeling next to the tank and giving him instructions on how to get you to the surface. Dick is sitting on the lip of the tank and wiggling into a suit of his own, very unfamiliar with the gear as he doesn't dive with Mers. Bruce is on the phone and standing by Clark, looking more and more concerned as the situation develops.

When Damian bursts in, Dick startles and looks up at him, fumbling with the clasp on his flipper.

"Dami, go ahead and get a suit on. We need you to — DAMIAN!"

He doesn't think. Doesn't stop to listen to whatever Clark's rambling on about. Doesn't wait for permission before he kicks his shoes off, takes a running start, and dives into the tank in his plainclothes. He pedals his arms and kicks his feet as hard as he can and goes down, down, down, deeper into your vast tank and towards your favorite resting place. The effort is tremendous without the slim, hydrodynamic suit to aid him and a rebreather to allow him to stay down here for long periods of time. He pushes past it all and keeps going. You are in trouble and he is going to help you.

When he makes it to the spire and swims around to the entrance, he immediately sees the issue. Your body is curled into the mer version of fetal position; your arms are locked around your waist in an embrace and your tail is coiled underneath you in a tight spiral, twisted around itself and wedging you deeply into the cramped space. The angle of your body, coupled with the tight spacing of the hideaway, make it nearly impossible to pull you out.

In the wild, a mer found in this position is an almost universal signifier that they are near death.

If there's no intervention, you are going to die today.

Damian climbs into the spire with you, squeezing his body inside with a low grunt. A burst of bubbles escape from his mouth. If he can't pull you out — a dangerous move which would damage your tail and break your fins if they tried — he has to unfold you.

His back scrapes against the bricks and pain rockets down his spine. Another bunch of bubbles fly out. He grits his teeth and starts carefully pushing at you, gingerly moving your upper half, then your lower half, around and around and around to create enough space to safely push you free.

His chest is heaving. Damian is exhausted and quickly running out of breath. He cannot stop. If he stops, you won't make it.

He jerks when something jabs his ankle, arms wrapping protectively around you as his head snaps down to see what happened.

Jon is hovering just by the spire opening, holding a rebreather in his hand and shaking it insistently at him.

Damian reaches around you and makes a few grabs at it, finally curling his fingers around the device and pushing it into his mouth. He clicks the button to turn it on and almost coughs when oxygen starts to flow into his lungs. He slumps against you briefly, taking in your closed eyes and face twisted into agony.

What happened, he thinks. How did this happen to you, Princess?

His ankle is jabbed again. Damian looks back at Jon, who has his hands out in an offer of help. Damian gently starts to maneuver you around again, slowly but steadily unfolding your body, and when Jon catches on, helps do the same thing from your opposite side.

It is painstaking work. Dick eventually gets into the water to join in, but there's no room for him, so he hovers to the side ready to help carry your body to the surface when you're finally free.

It feels like it takes hours, but can't be more than twenty minutes. Twenty minutes too long in Damian's opinion. Eventually, your body is unwound enough to ease you out of the spire without injury, and the three men rush you to the surface where Clark and four other vets are waiting to take you. It becomes a flurry of activity after that.

Damian spits out the rebreather when his feet are back on solid ground. He pants and doubles over, limbs shaking from exertion, and watches the medical team assess your condition and fret over you. You're loaded onto a special stretcher and whisked from the room, and he's about to follow suit when a hand clasps over his wrist.

"No," he rasps, already gearing up the breath to scream at his father, but Bruce just shakes his head and presses a towel into his hands.

"Here," he says, voice soft and knowing. "Here, Tadpole. I just want you to get dry before you follow them into the medical bay. You can't help anybody if you get sick."

Damian clutches it, staring at his father with no small amount of trepidation. Bruce just sighs.

"I'm sorry, Damian. I am. We'll talk about it later, but I won't separate you two again. You have my word." He jerks his head toward the doors. "Go dry off and change in the locker room. I'll call Medical and tell them to let you in when you're done."

Damian throws his arms around Bruce, uncaring about how he's soaking his dad. Evidently Bruce doesn't care either, if the fierceness in which he hugs him back is any indication.

"Thank you," Damian whispers, then pulls away to head to the lockers.

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

HELLO can I ask for sol,hyugo and geo with a mc that is obsessed with it's own appearance, like having a strict diet, body and skin care religiously and wearing uncomfortable clothes like corsets just to be pretty.

Sorry if it's too long, love you writing 🍬💕

ENSNARED

This is the second oldest request I have in my inbox, hope this fulfilled your expectations, Anon! Thank you so much for choosing me to write this for you. <3

TW: There are themes involved with hating your body, as well as depriving it of food, sleep, etc. to feel attractive.

You all have traits that make you worthy. Remember that.

-- Signed solemnly by @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer AKA Sky Fort(resse)s and Burning Citadels

To commence this: Sol is a very insecure man. He may not appear it, nor act it, but deep in that depraved mind of his - looks are crucial to him. He has standards, of course. He dresses the way he wants, wears whatever makeup he wants, but he still ensures he looks ‘pretty’. Especially for you, he’s willing to ditch all his values and morals for you, just say the word. In short, he understands the urge to appear perfect or have glass skin or to be the most fashionable.

He’s always found you beautiful, to be fair everyone does (they’re not worth your time, he thinks), but you’re ethereal in his eyes. Always was, always will be.

You are by far one of the most fashionable people in all of your classes: your hair is pinned and styled, your clothes scream wealth and expense, your perfumes and cosmetics are a compliment to your features and by God your outfits fit your figure so well. You’re a model, essentially. People state you’ve been stopped on the streets by alleged modelling agencies.

You didn’t trust them enough to accept, however. As you should’ve, this city is dodgy and shady in more ways than Sol has jacked off to you - and that’s a massive achievement tbh.

On the surface, you appear unfazed by the envious looks of passer-bys, confident and composed in your own skin. However - like he knew suspected - as he got to know you, he recognised all the signs, all the subtle cues that indicated just how ‘perfect’ you had to look. How obsessed you were about your appearance, often losing sleep and forcing yourself to avoid food just to feel like you were becoming more ‘beautiful’.

You both should watch The Substance let’s be ffr, that movie perfectly explains what it’s like to be you. (sidenote: the movie’s fine but honestly it went way off the rails halfway through - just my opinion though)

He would often compliment you, and you would smile and thank him. Deep down, however (which he eventually realised and panicked about) was the intrusive, all-consuming thought: He likes this version of me, he could never like the real me, I’m too fake for someone as authentic as him. And then you go even deeper into that cycle.

In terms of romance, it’ll probably stem from a moment of rage or frustration, mostly on your part. You’re so tired or maintaining, editing, fixing yourself every fucking day that you lose it. Fully fucking lose it. You tear at your hair, pull at your skin, smear your makeup and just sob in the shower.

You don’t go to school that day, by then Sol and you (and Hyugo!) were friends for a while, and he was nervous when you weren’t around that day. They both texted you, with little response if any at all. So he brings your favourite snacks (he knows you don’t eat sugar so he brought dried fruits instead). 

What goes down is a mix of you being comforted, him relating to you, both of you opening up, maybe sleeping ontop of each other (look you’re tired okay). 

Obviously it’s a lot more violent and volatile than just that, but you’re in deep. You’ve been stuck in this cycle for years, it’ll take a lot to start pulling you out.

So you guys agree to pull each other out together.

Him (and Hyugo) both value their own appearances, but their aim is to convince you to dress well for YOURSELF, not anyone else.

When you and Sol are dating, you’re still very vain and worried about how you look, but the urge isn’t as potent, more as a source of comfort than anything else - or so you say. Sol definitely makes you eat and sleep more though, and to an extent (hint: a huge one), you feel a lot lighter. A lot saner and a touch happier.

You’re both pulling each other out together, and Sol often displays his love for you (and your body) through significantly more than just validation…

Mans definitely hugs and holds you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear about how worthy of love and affection you truly are.

Maybe one day you’ll grow to tell such kind things to yourself.

“You look gorgeous, pumpkin. Heh, who am I kidding, you always do.”

“Nothing makes me happier than seeing you at ease and content, darling.”

“I love all of you, always have, always will.”

Hyugo is a raging fan of hot and cool women (shh dw he thinks hot men are epic too); he absolutely loves them, he thinks they’re awesome. He’s someone who can definitely appreciate a person who caters to themselves and generally hold themselves in high regard; and from the looks of it…you seem to be both of those things. After all, you’re considered a beauty by most if not all of the school (and some faculty members but that’s for him to use as blackmail in the future).

He 110% does consider you appealing at first glance, you’re put together, composed, sure of yourself. In short: confident. He likes that trait, the ability to see yourself highly and to deflect any hits that are tossed your way.

He originally doesn’t see it as much more than that, a small acknowledgement of ‘that person’s cool’…until that day on the rooftop.

Then it turns into something a touch more…intimate? I mean, violence is an intimate thing, in certain contexts. It’s just not a type people would want to find themselves in…heh, well, normal people at least.

After him and Sol acquaint themselves with you well enough, he begins to perceive cracks in this facade of yours - Hyugo has a very highly-tuned sixth sense (canon idfc this is something he has to have with the shit he gets up to) - and gets curious.

You seem like a nice person, a good person even, but there’s something *off*. He tries to think about it, tries to put his finger on what he suspects you conceal from the world. So, like the magnificent detective he is, he decides he’s going to investigate and through his many contacts he discovers you’re extremely vain and self-regulatory about your physical appearance.

He doesn’t think that’s the cause at first, until he gets to know you better and it hits him just how willing you are to damage yourself just to fit the standards of the year, if not month. He notices how trendy you are, how you always seem to have the newest bags, clothes, makeup, shoes, etc. 

He does some digging, in his spare time (only due to intrigue, totally out of curiosity and nothing else) and finds that you’re in a very deep debt. Mainly from your obscene amounts of fashion-esqe purchases. That’s when he fully realised how bad this compulsion of yours is.

During your friendship, he starts gingerly bringing up things about trends, usually starting from his end - video games - and you end up mentioning fashion and clothes.

Then he picks up on how gaunt you look, even under the contouring and makeup, his bony your hands are, how frail you seem to be.

He’s contemplating kidnapping you at this point, and eventually he bites the bullet and just bluntly asks you why you’re starving yourself. You become highly defensive, immediately shutting down the conversation.

Soon enough he becomes more forward with his prior gestures of offering food, being a touch insistent you eat. You look like you’ll collapse at any second, and he has to fully resist his urge to force-feed you - mostly to remain on good terms with you - until you actually collapse.

Most people are shocked, but the more perceptive ones aren’t remotely surprised how bad it got. You had a conviction that beauty was everything, and you were stubborn as they come.

It’s when you’re finally allowed out of the hospital that the two of you get into an actual argument. He’s upset that you’re willing to die in pursuit of something entirely subjective and you’re angry he thinks he has the right to boss you around.

Soon enough it explodes, and he blurts out his feelings, freaks out, and storms off; deciding to end it there before he reveals anything else.

You, on the other hand, are shooketh.

Con? Fuzzled.

Bam? Boozled.

Flabber? Gasted.

Eventually, you start to see things from his perspective, from other peoples’ perspectives and you feel depressed all over again. You fucked up. You failed to maintain perfection. It’s the imperfections that made this happen.

Obviously you know it’s not true, logically there’s no way it is. But you’ve not cared about logistics for a long fucking time.

You find him soon enough and you both talk, actually talk. Something something feelings and hurt and comfort something something let’s date.

Hyugo has plenty of his own secrets, as do you, but despite it all? You both know the other would never leave, because…you just feel it. Some small hopeful part of you feels safe with this partner…and soon so do both of you.

He’s a very supportive partner, he even helps you get out of debt ffs, he’s willing to do a lot to help you. Often compliments or expresses affection whenever he sees you, especially if you’ve eaten or he knows you’ve been taking care of yourself. Encourages you to list good traits of yourself, or to do something that involves not thinking, like crocheting. Or shooting. Or cooking. Stuff that grounds you. Whether you take any of those on is up to you, but he’s a caring person, and despite the shit he’s done he does want you to be and feel better. Sometime later on, you feel a sliver of that light return to the pit of hollow self-loathing and the world feels a touch less grey.

“Hey! How’re you feeling? Awesome, hey uh, wanna go out today? Just us two, no pressure. :)”

“As a certified sexy person I wish to remind you that you look very sexy this fine day.” 😔🫡😈 (this is said very solemnly mind you)

“You smell nice...” *subtly inhales*

To summarise this entire extract, Geo has his own insecurities - but they’re significantly more repressed than any other member of the main cast (Hyugo being a close second imo). He can empathise with the desire to feel content with ones’ own appearance, not that he’d ever state it.

He’s someone who does value fashion - cosmetics in particular, he definitely wears eyeliner and lipstick- and the art of taking care of yourself and your wellbeing, but he never felt the urge to destroy himself in the pursuit of beauty like you do. 

He considers Crowe one of his ‘close’ friends and considering how highly Crowe views you, he’s got some tidbits of info on you, like how you’re incredibly self conscious. He found that odd, because from whatever times he may or may not’ve seen you around, you emanated self-assuredness - if not cockiness - alongside your particularly fancy way of dress.

He can admit, he was a touch impressed with how dedicated you were to maintain yourself, until he began noticing small things in your stature and general nature. He doesn’t know why he observed such minute details, but whenever you hung out with the group, you seemed a touch out of it. A bit depressed, especially when someone complimented you - like Brittney or Jess.

He was somewhat certain you were fishing for compliments, until he realised that he doesn’t trust compliments either, so he somewhat erases that thought of you.

He does end up liking you after a long time, for your personality - we all hope (it is dw) - but he does notice how you alter your outfit style and makeup to something more conventionally appealing in Japan (idk man someone out there’s definitely done this to impress a crush), or just noticed how if you realise he likes something, especially in terms of physicality (it’s not for attraction it’s for the ✨aesthetic✨) you end up adopting said traits.

He eventually does recognise (probably because someone pointed it out, like Deryl - bless his heart he had no bad intentions) that you are doing this to impress him.

He’s not impressed, if anything, he feels a tad peeved. To him, actions like that indicate desperation, and he does not want to be surrounded by desperate people (he’s got too many simps and he doesn’t need anymore)…but you’re not a shallow person, he feels that.

Unfortunately he has fuck all idea on how to actually bring this up, so he doesn’t.

In fact the only way you stop is when he makes a snarky remark about it (he didn’t mean to come off as an asshole he swears) and you just look…melancholic.

In your eyes, you’ve learnt that beauty and appearance is what gets you people, and it’s worked so well before…so why isn’t it working now. You don’t want to seduce or trick anyone, but you want to be seen as pretty. Beautiful, even.

Geo’s indirect rejection of this made that void in your heart - that one that convinced you long ago how shallow and unworthy you genuinely are - swell and pulse. It stung.

That, along with the magnitude of invalidating, cruel thoughts sent you into a spiral. You let yourself go, and you let yourself drown.

And everyone noticed, when you marched into school after a couple days with makeup messily caked onto your face, your hair done in a way that tore at your scalp and hair strands and your outfit so tight that you had to move like a machine just to get around. The desire grew stronger, grew in intensity and you were losing it.

Geo does not understand until Brittney realises it that he may or may not have been a catalyst for this. He has no clue how to deal with this, like he’s so stumped that he has an argument with ChatGPT.

Soon enough, he decides to just try and interact with you and pray this doesn’t end up in flames.

Something something awkward confession something something angst and hurt comfort something something eventually romance starts.

Anyway in terms of romantic relations, he’s unsupportive of these inhumane rituals you’ve been doing on yourself, so he makes you cease.

He doesn’t want to be nasty about it he just thinks it’s stupid and doesn’t want you to suffer anymore. He does care for you.

Will drop random words of validation every month or so, and you cling onto those words, because they’re genuine. They’re authentic, and you grow to feel more comfortable in receiving them, and, most importantly: giving them to yourself and accepting them. Bit by bit.

“You look nice. This suits you.”

“You’ve eaten, I hope?”

“You look healthier. Keep it that way..”

Banger women and banger tits: two things that Brittney Claire has in spades and also highly appreciates (mantits also count dwdw). She’s someone who values appearance as well, often putting in insane amounts of time for her hair snd skincare alone (Geode quivered in fear when he heard the number). She’s also someone who’s experienced her fair share of dark times and loneliness, so she definitely understands what it feels like to need to feel attractive, to feel wanted and needed, even if it’s ingenuine. 

She’s someone who - like you - displays confidence and self-assurance, especially in the face of people she holds disdain and even resentment towards. Someone who understands the empty feeling that comes with years of self-loathing and the undying belief that you’ll never be worth anything if you’re not beautiful. What worth does someone - especially a woman - have if she’s not beautiful?

Looking back, from the perspective of someone with a much healthier support system and overall mindset, she knows she has worth, knows she’s awesome and has good qualities…but some days those feelings return. So she gets it. 

Frankly, the first time she meets - hell, even sees - you, she instantly knows. How could she not, she used to be similar to you. Trendiest outfits, being the circle of attention, knowing all the news and rumours and pop culture references (she still knows them, just refuses to change herself for them). She believes she only genuinely stopped trying to fit in when she discovered Gyaru fashion, almost slipped back into it when she got humiliated that one time, and crawled back out when she had Jess and Crowe (and to a minor extent, Geo) for support.

She knows you don’t have genuine friends, or ones that possess depth; so she decides to try and get to know you through shared classes.

You originally somewhat ignore her (totally not due to your envy of her being able to be herself no never), which tempts her to give up, but she’s a spiteful lady sometimes. Spite is a very good motivator.

Eventually, you both end up talking and the more comfy you become, the more she realises how similar you both were and still are. She decides to introduce you to her friend group, to which you reluctantly agree (due to the rumours) and you’re pretty well-received. 

Brittney does eventually start opening up to you, and you do as well - bonding over your shared experienced and values - her offering an olive branch if you want support, to which you agree…but never take up.

Hell, soon enough you grow distant again, and oddly enough she’s peeved. She doesn’t get why, well…she does, but you seem to mostly avoid her specifically. Did she appear fake to you? Did you think she wanted to harm you?

Maybe, honestly. She had - still has - that same mindset to an extent. That jaded outlook on reading peoples’ angles and intentions.

When she eventually confronts you, you both escalate it to a fight, mostly because she’s genuinely trying to help - despite having the communication skills of a tortoise in water - while you’re being hyperdefensive over yourself and your habits of extremist beauty obsession.

You confess you’re jealous of her. Highly jealous, the fact she has genuine friends, that she can fit in, be herself, etc. You apologise for being such a bitch, but it hurts you deeply.

She eventually relents and calms down, before you both start a proper friendship. You two and Jess are a banger trio, often going shopping together, going to cafes or simply talking. A group of support and trust, one that’s rare in a place like Titan City.

It’s then you two begin to develop feelings, and eventually things happen and you two get together.

She’s gonna be protective of you, you both defend the other from rumours and shitty people and serve as pillars for the other when they’re feeling low. You guys empathise with one another in ways many others simply cannot - and that’s a bond neither of you are willing to squander.

You guys definitely do each others’ hair and makeup and nails btw.

“You look…pretty! Pretty…uh…yeah. Very pretty.”

“Ugh, times are hard for hot people like us, right? Jessie Sitrus agree with me this instant!!” 🗣🗣

“I get it, but hey! It gets better, trust me. I’d know. And we’ve got each other, right?”

[lunarmoonanons]

The Queen Mother

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

Visenya watches Tyrell Reader like a hawk. Never betraying whether she tolerates her or not.

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

Masterlist

9 years ago, Winter

Her babies were a month old now. YN had no choice in their names, but they were pretty names. Pretty names for pretty babes. Each of them named after someone important to Maegor: his father, his mother, himself. Aegon ii looked like his father, Maegor ii looked like the Queen mother, and Visenya ii looked more like a Valyrian child then one of Westeros. The fifteen year old bride wished one would look like her but it seemed she’d have to have more children if she wanted one to look like her. She already knew Maegor wanted more children. He said as much on the day of her labor, making the day that should’ve been joyous sour. Her whole pregnancy was soured by her husband. 

Her husband. She hated to think Maegor was her husband now. A man close to his thirties bedding a barely fifteen year old was not well looked upon for some people. Yes young girls married older men occasionally but most of the time they would be closer in age. And in her family her father promised each of his daughters they’s marry men close in age to them, and marry when they were eighteen. A lot of people whispered that the king was cruel to take a child from her family and marry her against her will. Many whispered the young girl still played with dolls, so how could she mother children?  

It was nighttime again, a week ago she had sent a letter to her mother. Her mother had quickly sent a letter back, full of worry and love that any mother would have for her child. She asked in her letter that YN read a little to her babies, so her the girl was sitting on her bed with her doll and her babies. Two of the babies laid on their back, and one was held close to her chest as she face the boy around to look at the letter. 

“Mommy says ‘I believe your babes are some of the most beautiful. Even though I have not seen them you’ve described them well and I’m sure I will love them if or when I see them.’ Did you hear that? Mommy says you’re beautiful.” YN said, reading off the letter. She scanned the latter half and placed the baby down next to his siblings. “This part is for me only. So you wait there.” 

She read the rest of the letter, getting more emotional at the content. Her mother spoke about needing to love your babies. That it might be hard to love them but you can never take it out on them for they did nothing but be born. She was sure her daughter loved her babies but she must protect them from their father. That she loved her so much and if she ever wanted her to, she would come to Kingslanding and be with her. It made the girl tear up and place the letter on the side table. She grabbed her doll and held it close. Getting lost in her thoughts until her little girl made noises to be picked up. 

So she grabbed the girl and held her in one arm, showing the doll to her baby and playing with the two. Bouncing the doll up and down before making it “kiss” her baby. Smiling at the coos her baby made. When her babies started to get tired and fussy, she one by one set them to sleep in their cribs that she had demanded be moved into her room. When they were all asleep, she went back and sat crisscrossed on her bed holding her doll. Smiling and playing with the carefully crafted toy. 

She focused so much on her doll she didn’t notice her room being entered, only when the person was at the foot of the bed. YN looked up and caught her breath in her throat at the sight of Queen Visenya standing there looking at her. Her hard eyes, tall stature, braided hair, mouth that stretched into a line. YN barely spoke to Visneya, she was frightened of the woman. She stood there and watched this girl shrink into herself. YN felt very small under the gaze of Visenya, no matter if it was in the safety of her rooms or the openness of the court. YN held her doll close to her chest and tried to look down so to not look in her piercing violet eyes. 

“Let me see it.” Visenya said. 

“W..What?” YN asked, holding her doll closer. 

“The doll. Let me see it.” Visenya demanded, holding out her hand. YN’s hands shook as she held out the doll from her chest and into the queen’s hand. The older woman took the doll and examined it closely. “It is well made. Expensive.”

YN nodded and wrung her hands. Looking at her doll that the woman held in her hands with worry. Would she take it away? Would she say that’s a childish thing to have and force her to give it up? Maegor didn’t mind her having the doll, though he said she should focus on motherly duties. 

“Who had it made for you?” Visenya asked. 

“My Aunt. She promised me a present for my nameday…” YN whispered. She silently begged whoever listened for the queen to give her back her doll and leave. 

Eventually, Visenya stopped examining the doll and handed it back to the girl who held it close to her chest. But her respite was short lived as the older woman grabbed her chin and made her look at Visenya’s face. She moved the girl’s head side to side while examining the younger girl’s face. Finally she let go and allowed the girl to scoot back onto the bed. 

“I never wanted my son to wed you.” Visenya revealed. “What could a child know about having children?” 

YN said nothing, feeling small and helpless under her gaze. She wanted to cover her head with her covers and hide under her blankets like she did when there would be storms when she was younger. It was her violet eyes that were the harshest. They pierced her and watched her like a hawk. She never felt so small as she did under Visenya’s eyes. Maegor made her feel small with his sheer size and strength, but his mother pierced you with her hard eyes. She could make you feel small with just a look. 

“You were, you are a child. Aegon never passed the law, but I wanted him to pass a law that a woman must be at least eighteen to marry.” Visenya sighed. She went over to where the babies were sleeping and looked at her grandchildren. “I was not as flattered as you’d think when Maegor named her after me. But she has my name so she will be trained with the sword as I was.” 

The babies slept next to their cradle eggs, all three showing cracks. Visenya had eggs placed in their cribs the day they were born. Showing great interest in her grandchildren. They were the first grandchildren her son had given her. Though she was sure Alys would provide more, this Tyrell girl had proved to be fertile at her young age. 

“I know you are frightened here. Of this place, of Maegor, of me. But you have already pleased him by giving him children. Yes you may need to do that again, but so far you have done well.” Visenya made her way closer to the girl. Placing a hand on the side of her head. Gently holding her head in her hand. “You leave Maegor with me. I won’t let him hurt you more than he has.”

With that the queen left the girl’s room, and YN let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She held her doll close to her chest and pulled the covers over her head. Hiding under the blankets so no one could get in. She felt her chest grow in pain, the babes had nursed too hard. Everything made her chest hurt. She felt so small in the Red Keep. She just wanted to play with her doll and forget she had children. 

@gulnarsultan

[briarberrythornedhart]

Trust me

Contains: Post Season 4, Hurt/comfort, implied sex, Eddie Munson X You, no Y/N, roommates to lovers.

🦇 🛋️ 🦇 😴 🦇

Eddie lived.

And now he lives with you. You invited him to stay with you in your apartment and lie low while the Sheriff’s dept and the FBI completed the investigation of the murders (and exonerated Eddie, obviously).

There is some damage to his tattoos and a half destroyed nipple but otherwise he was unharmed physically by the events in Hawkins.

Mentally, he struggles.

He is uneasy and anxious.

Extremely Jumpy.

You’ve taken to wearing an ankle bracelet that jingles so he’ll hear you coming and not panic.

He doesn’t sleep well. He’s always tired and can’t even nap. He’s not even cranky about it, he’s just listless.

Dustin says he’s very different from the Eddie he knew in High School. Almost the opposite. Revved Down.

Eddie tells you he can’t sleep anymore because when he closes his eyes he sees the murders. Even Fred’s, which he didn’t witness in person, his brain cruelly recreates on a loop of guilt with the other deaths. It does no good to tell him he shouldn’t feel guilty, he can’t turn off the feeling that if he’d done something differently… he could have saved them. Like he personally could have taken Vecna out if he knew the solution. Like he picked the wrong CYOA path. It’s ridiculous and he knows it but he can’t seem to change that feeling, especially at night.

In the time you’ve chosen to take him in as your own personal project— sorry… as your roommate and good friend - You have barely seen him close his eyes at all.

The chocolate orbs are usually on you, meeting your gaze, watching your movements. Curious as a cat.

Right now it’s breakfast and he’s watching you make cinnamon toast.

Your way. Which is a very specific way. Exactly how you like it.

He looks like he’s taking mental notes but his head is heavy on his hand and his shoulders are curved like he could almost fall over from fatigue.

The black eyeliner he let you decorate his eyes with is smeared over the dark circles under his eyes. The black nail polish on each short nail bed on each long skilled (guitarist) finger is chipped. You will offer to repaint it later.

Even bone tired in rumpled sweatpants and an old tshirt that has holes in the armpits and at the collar… he is still unbelievably hot.

Without a doubt, if you weren’t certain-sure he was not into you in the slightest, you’d have tried something already.

Probably. You have a type and it is this guy.

“Smells good.” Eddie suddenly says. Perking up slightly.

“Do you want some toast?” You ask.

“Yes, please, princess.” He uses his trademark terms of endearment with everyone. It isn’t condescending or anything. After all he calls Steve Harrington and ‘Coffin-Jeff’ from his band and Nancy Wheeler ‘Princess’, too. So you think it doesn’t mean much of anything.

He licks his lips in anticipation.

The man would live on foods that are nutritionally-void vessels for butter if you didn’t insist on the occasional salad or omelette.

“You can have as much as you like if you’ll take a nap for me after.” You promise, handing him a triangle of toast.

“With you?” Eddie raises his eyebrows in a twist of confusion.

“Yeah. I mean…At the same time.” You Disambiguate. He slumps slightly and nibbles on the crusts. “You could take the couch and I could take the loveseat… Unless…”

“Unless???” His eyebrows are back up, way up, hidden in the curly brunette fringe.

“Well….I’ve heard that weighted blankets help with uneasy sleep, nightmares, anxiety and stuff. We don’t have anything heavy bedding wise but…I could be your weighted sorta blanket…if you trust me.”

“You’d do that for me?” Eddie smiles softly. “Even knowing I usually wake up yelling and screaming about scary shit?”

You did not know that. “Of course. Let’s try something new, you need sleep and I want to help if I can.”

He finished the cinnamon toast in 2 bites.

You lead him to the big thrift store find monstrosity of a chesterfield that he had helped you heft into the apartment.

It was wide and deep and cozy.

“Will I fit?” Eddie looked skeptical. “I usually curl up on my side on couches, these darn legs are longer than they look…”

You pressed gently on his shoulders. “Trust me. Get comfy.” You insisted. “Bend one knee up against the sofa back.”

He flopped down on his back, hands behind head, legs slightly spread and gone boneless. “Climb aboard.” He said wryly.

You crawled from his bare feet up between his spread legs to ease yourself onto his body. You tried not to feel some kind a messy way about how he body-rolled against you as you both tried to find the most comfortable position. Eventually your head was resting on his broad chest.

You shifted and felt like you were gonna roll off him, off the couch, but he said “whoa, princess.” And wrapped an arm around you to keep you there.

You were held and warm and not a little bit well….to be honest you were just completely massively turned on by the perfect scent of him and being pressed against his body.

“You good?” You asked.

“Yea, sweetheart. How bout You?” Eddie whispered.

“I feel safe.” You lied. Because what you felt was more complex than safe could ever be.

“Good. When I get… uh…if you notice that I am…” Eddie cleared his throat. “Just know I’d never do anything. I promise.”

You peered up at him. Your turn to be very confused.

He stammered and his face reddened. “I mean if you feel uh… ‘little Eddie’ getting ideas down there, don’t worry, I’m in control. Just because you feel so nice… perfect even… know I’m at the helm, right? And I value our friendship and would never…”

“I thought I didn’t do it for you?? Like at all?” You stammered back.

“I mean, obviously you do. You Do all of it for little Eddie.” He gestured at his crotch which was pitching a size large (OMG is that real?) tent in the sweats. “You are hot and sweet and funny and whip-smart and you’ve got this ass that I… ::fuck:: I’m sorry, forget I said… I mean, I wouldn’t ever do anything about it, not ever.”

“Why the hell not??” You got up on your elbows and sat on his belly. You looked down at his gorgeous flushed face. He bit his lips hard.

“Princess, You mean too much to me. When I think about losing you…”

“Why would you lose me? I’m very hard to just…misplace.” You stuck out your tongue at him.

He gave you a small chuckle and his hands found your hips. Squeezed you there. One hand stroked down your leg to run a finger over your jingling ankle bracelet. Then he frowned and then his hands dropped away.

He took a deep shuddery breath. “I usually lose when I love… one way or another, it’s inevitable… I have extraordinarily bad luck.”

“Eddie, nothing is totally inevitable.” You touched his cheek. Rubbed his lower lip with your thumb. “Can you trust me just a little bit more than you fear bad luck?”

Perhaps a smile teased one corner of his mouth. Almost a smile. Nearly one. “I trust you, Princess.”

You dismounted Eddie and took his hand to lead him to your room. Soon to be his room too.

He did yell that night but not in an unhappy way.

[heeheesang]

── .✦ what if we never dated..? — i should've been with you.

really really long written chapter , short smau below ! warnings : angst !! i cried writing this.

AFTER THE FIGHT WE HAD , WE NEVER HAD THE GUTS TO EVER FACE EACH OTHER . EVERYTIME WE MADE EYE CONTACT , WE WOULD IGNORE EACH OTHER AND FACE AWAY .

if only i had the guts to apologise for shouting at you... if only chaer didn't get in the way of everything. but thanks to taesan, we did manage to talk it out, even tho it was super awkward. i did feel like jumping into your arms but, i stopped myself.

it's been a week since the trip and we hadn't contacted at all... yunah and eunseok were happily together, same with shotaro and moka.

"since when were you and gunwook close again..?" you pulled me by my arm as i looked behind. the urge i had to hug you tightly and wish it was all dream...

"he... apologised to me. and now we're talking as friends." i smiled awkwardly as he flashed gunwook one kind of a look. we were about to leave when he pulled my arm again.

"wait, yn... i have to tell you something." i crossed my arms, "what is it, leehan?"

"i'm moving to america." if only you knew how much you made me cry at home with that sentence alone. but the only thing i could do at the point was smile and wish you all the best.

i could barely sleep for nights, eventually had to call taesan and anton over with the girls for a sleepover. gunwook joined too, and that's when i realised why we weren't made for each other.

GUNWOOK : yeah lol she thinks i still like her, do i get my $1000 now?

CHAER : ugh just keep her distracted. leehan and i got his parents approval for an arranged marriage.

GUNWOOK : you better do this quick, it's bad enough i'm hurting her but she can't make a man happy at all.

i broke down into tears, screenshotting the chat and sending it to myself before waking gunwook up. oh, if only you could hear how upset i was.

i can't blame gunwook and i can't blame you neither can i blame chaer... it's all my fault in the end.

once it was morning, gunwook ran out of the house before any of the girls or guys woke up. i spent the whole day crying, arranged marriage? so he's... really taken now.

YN : sent a screenshot

LEEHAN : ☺️ now you know pretty.

LEEHAN : i'm sorry it had to be this way... i just never liked you at all yn, i was always waiting for chaer get out of a relationship and you just so reminded me of her lol

YN : huh... so you never liked me..?

LEEHAN : read up hm? you have a pretty smart brain, put two and two together :)

YN : fuck you kim donghyun.

you blocked this contact.

oh. that felt like a hard pang in the heart... i couldn't tell any of them about this, all of them were close to leehan. they even wished for him to come back as soon as possible... i would just be ruining my own friendship.

"you look disturbed these days. what's up, angel?" taesan asked as he leaned against my locker, eyes glued to his screen as his fingers moved rapidly.

"i'm just... tired really..! rumors here and there... head girl council things." i lied, well kinda.

"i'm not dumb, angel. i can see right through you. what's wrong?" taesan asked again as he turned off his phone and placed it in his pocket.

"i forgot that you're literal leehan 2.0. i'll be fine, don't worry. let's go to class?" i joked as he nodded, wrapping his arm around my shoulder as we walked to class.

oh yeah, taesan was always there for me. i always felt bad for him because i didn't even realise how much he liked me until the argument between leehan and i happened.

i had to find it out through yunah as well... she was taesan's wingwoman. i was always thankful for taesan but now that i knew his intentions behind his acts of kindness, i adored him.

he never gave up even tho i longed for leehan. that enough showed me how much he really likes me. he always helped me in classes, he talks with me about our problems.

"so what i'm hearing is.. leehan was playing with you?" taesan asked as i nodded slowly, tears running down my cheeks as he gave me tissues and tissues.

"what a bitch..." taesan cursed as a joke and i giggled, hitting his shoulder lightly.

"and gunwook.. was in it with chaer too. but i realised they didn't even have to plan anything because... leehan was already in love with chaer." i continued and eventually cried out loud.

taesan panicked and immediately rushed to my side on the bed, hugging my tightly as i cried on his leather jacket.

"that's what's been bothering me lately... i'm so... scared of love now." i hugged him tightly as he rubbed my back, "hey hey..." he said as he pulled away from the hug, holding me by my shoulders.

"that's part of love life, angel. you meet people who play with your feelings, people who love you as much as you love them, and just pure assholes. there are much more important things in life hm, angel? like that graduation and prom ceremony. i'll help you plan it out." taesan comforted as he wiped my tears away only for me to cry even more.

"now i've ruined your leather jacket...!" i cried out as he chuckled, "it's okay, it's okay..."

with the few days, taesan helped me cope very well surprisingly. he gave me new hobbies to try out, he brought me out on little dates, he even introduced me to his other friends and family members.

but despite all that, my schedule was still very packed with plannings. soon, prom was coming up and i had moka to run the confessions corner account once again.

"hey, angel. dinner at my mom's today?" taesan asked as i pouted, "i'm afraid not sanie... i have to complete my—"

"—your layout for prom? finished. your seating layouts? done. so! can we?" he asked with a tiny pout and a glint of happiness in his eyes.

i pinched his cheeks before giggling, "of course you big baby."

everytime we had dinner at taesan's, his parents would pamper. his father always went on work trips outside of korea and would always bring me souvenirs, big or small, it didn't matter to him.

his mother would always cook my favourite meals and make sure i eat alot. his siblings would always compliment me and make me play games with them on their playstation.

"ah eomma! you've embarrassed me enough..." taesan whined and covered his face as his parents chuckled, "your girlfriend— future girlfriend deserves to know all this!"

without a doubt, it was always fun at taesan's. his family members love me, and my family members love him. they treat him as their own child, always talking about marriage when he was over.

"thanks for tonight, sanie."

"no problem, angel. see you at prom tomorrow, i'll pick you up at six hm?" i nodded as he placed a short kiss on my forehead, making sure i got in the house before driving off.

prom! the one night where everyone could enjoy having their final days in highschool. i sighed as i opened my closet, looking through it to find my prom dress i had prepared.

that's until i found a mini box at the side of my closet, TO JUNG YN, FROM KIM LEEHAN. huh? when did this get here?

i took the box and sat down on my bed, opening it to find a corsage. a pink colour corsage.

TO JUNG YN ,

you probably would've expected the outcome of us... so i won't be there for prom but i want you to have the best night ever. i know taesan likes you... and he deserves you.

i wish you and taesan all the best. i'll forever love you jung yn. a pink corsage, a matching one with taesan.

thank you for your time the whole 3 years jung yn. :) goodbye forever.

i tried my best not to break down in tears, because i will not be redoing my makeup ever again. soon i received a text from taesan if i received a corsage from leehan and i replied him quickly because his next message was 'i'll be there in thirty'.

this is for you leehan taesan, i pick you. while changing i realised that you've never reminded me of leehan, you were yourself and that's what i love.

thank you taesan, for showing me what perseverance is.

"are you enjoying the party, girl??" yunah asked as moka danced alongside me. i pressed my lips into a thin line, shrugging as i gulped down another cup of fruit punch.

taesan and i arrived together but he was currently with his friends dancing in the middle. taesan and his friends have always been the popular group in school. they were all flirters especially jaehyun. he tried asking me for my number once with his so called, 'rizz' but thank god taesan stepped in.

taesan was never a flirter. he was more determined to get the girl he likes and never let her get out of sight.

"you're daydreaming again... please don't say it's about leehan..." moka whined as they took a seat beside me, leaving me in between them both.

"leehan isn't here anymore... yn. you know that." yunah reminded me as i nodded slowly.

"no, oh my god no! i was just thinking about taesan... like he's determined to get me... and i adore that." i explained as they 'ooh' at my response.

"can we get miss jung yn, head girl of 2024, on stage. calling for jung yn." the principal voiced out on stage as everyone turned to look for me, "i better get on stage first. first row, girls?" we giggled as they followed me and sat down first row with taesan and his friends.

i tapped on the mic, "hello... um wow this is new. a lot of you here..." i nervously spoke as everyone laughed and applauded for me to boost my confidence.

i looked down to my friends all holding a thumbs up sign, then made eye contact with taesan. i smiled as he mouthed, "you can do it, angel."

i let ou a small sigh of relief before continuing, "as head girl of batch 24', i've learnt a thing or two. holding onto the past won't do you any good in the future because you'll dwell on your past mistakes and be afraid to make new choices in life."

"secondly, i learnt that it's better to keep your circle small. the bigger the circle, the bigger problems. that doesn't mean that smaller circles have smaller problems, but it's unlikely to have any fueds or such."

"i would like to thank everyone... for being so supportive of me being head girl. i've enjoyed my time creating activities, spending time with my fellow students and just making the best out of everything."

"i would also like to... um... apologise. if i have ever made you upset, if i have ever made you angry. please forgive me if i have ever done anything to made you hurt." i bowed down to the crowd as they all retaliated, saying i didn't do anything wrong.

i giggled into the microphone, "lastly... the school and i have organised this event so that we could have our last moments together with friends and people we love. so please — take the dance floor, enjoy the buffet, do everything with your friends and loved ones. i think that's all from me... thank you, once again." i bowed to the crowd as everyone dispersed.

walking down from the stage, taesan appeared with a smile and a hand. "good job, angel." i chuckled and took his hand, hugging him as i finally reached the bottom.

as soon as i sat back down, the center floor was suddenly emptied out. taesan’s friends, jaehyun sungho, and riwoo all danced in the centre facing me. my eyes widened as i lifted my eyebrows, turning around to see nobody behind me at all.

“oh my darling..” i heard taesan’s voice as he emerged from the three. he sang the song as if his life depended on it, the closer he came to me, the faster the song ended.

“i love you.” my jaw dropped as he passed my a bouquet of flowers.

“will you be my angel?”

⤶ back | mlist

⟢ accidental confessions (acc) taglist

╰┈➤ @rairaiblog @voikiraz @veerooniicaa @miukidoll

⟢ permanent taglist ( can be requested to be taken off ! )

╰┈➤ @hooneverse @sol3chu @yourssincerely-mimi @reikaxslvr @petralovesbonedo @enhabooks @mwahvvis @jaerisdiction @rairaiblog @jeonginontopforever

hhs' notes ! ── .✦ whaaat a lengthy chapter !! i'm so sorry if this was a terrible chapter (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ ) i cried a little writing this hehe ( ˶°ㅁ°) !! but it's finally , the end !! how do we feel ? i originally wanted to make it seem like leehan was gone gone , but i just couldn't do it >ᴗ<

anyway my luvies...! i hope you enjoyed this smau and this final chapter huhu (,,>﹏<,,) i hope it's not too confusing !! i loved making this smau , each and every chapter •⩊• and i would like to thank everyone for liking, loving, and supporting this smau !! i love all of you and i'll see you in my next smau !! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

[linearao3]

I don’t have a new Publish or Perish chapter and probably won’t any time super soon because I am very tired and also I hate that I am being accidentally Relevant due to H-1B Discourse. So please accept this tiny little interstitial — probably the only Kaz POV I will provide for this fic. You could say there are spoilers but I think it’s more like foreshadowing? This might not even be canonical to the fic. Who can say. But please enjoy.

—

He reaches for the phone out of habit, because that’s what he does now at night, look and see if Inej has texted him. And yes, she did just leave, but you never know.

She hasn’t texted. She just left; of course she hasn’t.

He thinks vaguely that he might have read somewhere that you should ask people to text you when they get home safely. He can’t remember if this was etiquette advice, or a devious way of making sure they kept thinking about you.

He’d had some notion, in his head, that after he kissed her, she might turn in the doorway and close her hand around his jaw, pull him down to kiss her. She is so warm, and her mouth is warmer, and he imagines — imagines too much, with too much of his time and too much presumption that he’ll ever find out — that it’s even warmer than that in her cunt.

He’s jealous of the stupid toy. He’s so smug that she likes it.

He types

Sex is so strange. I had all these notions of what I wanted to do, and I didn’t do any of them, and what I did do feels like the only good thing that has ever happened to anyone ever. That’s how I felt when you came to my office, too.

He never texts her first. He likes knowing she chose to start it, that she wants it. That she’s lying in bed thinking about him. He keeps typing.

The thing is that my brother died. And that’s the only thing that ever happened to me, really.

He’s forty — okay, no, he’s not forty, but he feels like he ought to be forty — and he’s tried to have sex exactly twice before now, once with Jesper and once with Imogen and they were both so disastrous he tries not to think about it. But he’s forty or thirty or whatever and he’s coming to the end of his debt and he will take care of Rollins soon, soon, pull out the brick of Marya Van Eck and everything will crumble. And then he’ll just be — a professor, he supposes. A professor with a good salary who could get stupid nice small things and could have friends over for dinner and could have a girlfriend. Because why shouldn’t he? Except that there’s a gaping savage maw where his heart ought to be.

I do still want to fuck you. I bought some condoms. I imagined you putting one on me, like a horny sex ed class with Dr. Ghafa, and I’d be so hard in your hand.

He jerked off before she came, with the idea that he might last longer when she was actually there, and he doesn’t know if he can physically manage three in a night but his body seems interested in trying it.

He was never really a teenager, he thinks— he woke up in the hospital whatever thing he is now, which wasn’t a child and has maybe never been an adult — so maybe now he’s doing adolescence as a crash course, an intensive study in constant graceless horniness and short-sighted stupidity.

You’re never going to forgive me. I want you to. You shouldn’t. It’s just that I’m selfish. If you asked me I’ll say that it’s because I promised you but it’s really because I just want to be able to see you sometimes. I want to be able to give you things. I’m not going to send this. I just got so used to telling you things. You are so beautiful and I want you so much and I am so tired. I’m going to sleep. Sleep well, Inej. Come and talk to me.

He force-quits the chat application, drops the phone, and falls asleep. He dreams Inej smiles, bright and vicious and righteous, and tells him he did everything just right.

[flzrencent]

chris sturniolo ,, the seventh letter

! contents ! ; major character death, heavy angst!!! literally all hurt zero comfort!!!!! war (set sometime in the mid - earlyish 1900s??), probably soo historically inaccurate i tried to research i think.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

#7 

July 28th Somewhere in Sicily.

'I hope this reaches you well. 

It’s cold here, Matt’s stationed elsewhere – somewhere warmer, safer, I hope. I worry for him. Nick is here. I miss you, how’s it at home? 

I didn't think it was possible to miss someone so much. To get on that train with the knowledge I wouldn't see you for what could be years? It’s still all too much for me to bear. Even here, where the wind is harsh and I'm still sleeping a layer away from dirt and a wall away from death, all I can really think about is what would’ve happened if I'd have kissed you before I got on that train.

Though I'm sure this won’t last long. I have faith. With you waiting for me, I will continue having it.

It won’t do us any good pondering. So I'll stay thinking about how I will kiss you the second I come home.

I don’t think I have ever been this tired. I hope tomorrow will be easier, and I hope all is well where you are. 

Don’t worry so much about me, I beg. Celebrate our birthday with my family, will you?

All my love,

Chris.'

The letter sat tear stained in your shaky hands. The pristine paper yellowed, dirt marks from what was undeniably Chris’ hands when writing it on the corners, scribbles of hearts drawn lazily where he could fit them.

The death of Christopher Sturniolo was, undeniably and undoubtedly, the most painful thing to ever happen to you. The news, revealed on a sunny day, air warm and laughter echoing through the streets as the family mourned and spoken to you by two men who’d knocked on your front door, brought you to gut wrenching sobs immediately.

“Ma’am?” 

You wiped at your eyes, ridden with sleep and stress, and nodded in confirmation as they clarified your identity.

“Were you … in any sort of relation to Christopher Sturniolo?”

Were?

“Yes,” you spoke, brows furrowed as you shifted your weight on your feet, leaned up against the doorframe with a tilted head and an accusing look, “I am,” you clarified, the look on your face showcasing the tell-tale signs of concern, the beating in your chest suddenly loudening.

“We really are sorry to be the ones to break this to you, but he’s tragically - …”

The ringing in your head interrupted the rest of what they had to say. Hot, salty tears welled up in your eyes as you shook your head,

A shallow and a shaky breath. “No, no, you’re wrong.” You pleaded, words small and broken by the sobs already slipping from your lips. This has to be some sort of misunderstanding, right?

“We truly are sorry,” the other spoke, voice low in remorse with his hat held low to his chest with one hand, the other outstretched with a worn out envelope and a sincere look on his face. The distant laughter lingered, the joy which only moments ago brought a smile to tug at your lips, and you selfishly wanted nothing more than for it to stop.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

florence ,

most of my war knowledge is from 9th grade history! excuse the terrible inaccuracy probably. can u tell i tried to be vague

this is so short aswell literally like 470 words. but i am a sucker for angst and i fear its what i find easier to write </3 i also lowkey forgot i could post things that i've written so i have countless bits in my docs rn!

[dykekarkat]

6k words into this and neil still isnt in heat however i did still write 2k words of porn already so i fear this fic is gonna get longer than i was originally planning for anyway heres another sneak peak ^-^

Aaron is the one who finally puts it together, with a lot of disgusted exclamations. That leads to Kevin ranting about how Neil better be okay before practices start soon. Andrew turns the music up until it’s ringing in his ears when Nicky goes to open his mouth.

He drops them off without a word, tires squealing as he peels away before they can get a word in edgewise. The fact that his driving could be considered reckless even according to his own standards has nothing to do with Neil, he assures himself. Neil might be alone, on the edge of heat and anxious in his own way, but Andrew is not pushing a hundred to get back to him quicker. Not at all.

When he finally makes it through the front door, Neil is obsessively checking the locks on the windows and the backdoor. He lunges as soon as Andrew comes through the front, canines poised to tear into an intruder.

Andrew almost immediately walks back out, he can sleep in the car if Neil needs him too. Except, Neil stops mid lunge, breathing deeply as he takes in Andrew’s scent.

His glare doesn’t shrink but his canines do, “You smell like them. Can I scent you?” Andrew can tell he isn’t in heat yet, but the sweet spice scent is much stronger than earlier. He’s had more time to get used to the spice of cinnamon and orange that invades his nose, but now it’s heady to the point that he can taste it. He needs to keep himself under control, but his mouth is already salivating.

Andrew rolls his eyes, giving nothing away, “Yes, Junkie. You can scent me.”

Neil is on him in the next second. He doesn’t push him into the wall, too aware of Andrew’s boundaries even on the edge of his sanity, but his hands are frantic as he paws at the neck of Andrew’s hoodie. Neil’s sigh of relief as he strokes Andrew’s scent gland gently with his ruined fingers is torturous. Neil is quick to replace his hand with his face, humming softly as he breathes in Andrew’s own woodsy amber scent. He shivers as Neil’s nose traces the veins of his neck, his lips parted but not quite touching where Andrew really wants them.

At some point Andrew can’t take it anymore. His voice is gravelly when he finally speaks, “Yes or No.”

Neil’s pupils are so blown when he pulls back that the blue of his eyes is nearly eclipsed. He nearly can’t get the words out fast enough, “Yes Andrew of course ye-”

He cuts him off, nearly as frantic even without heat in his veins, “Waist and up,” and then Andrew kisses him.

[misc-obeyme]

I’m not entirely sure if this is NSFW so I do apologize in advance (Writing request)

For years I’ve been looking for anything on a bratty bottom Lucifer; go wild with it :3

I’m a bit tired of seeing always been dominate; I just want to see him be a princess LMAO

Oh uh.. h-hey there, anon... Sorry I'm only getting to this FIVE MONTHS after you sent it 😅

Hopefully you didn't give up on me and still get to read it l;asdkfj.

I wasn't sure how to make this not NSFW to be honest. Like okay bratty bottom Lucifer? But also a princess?? I did try to include some build up that was not smut, but most of this is smut. It was supposed to be a drabble and woah I got carried away. I swear they will not all be this long.

Anyway, I was kind of imagining male reader for this, but I tried to make it vague enough that you could also read it as pegging. Not sure if I succeeded, but hey I tried lol.

Lucifer x GN!MC (sorta??? see above note)

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: top!MC, bottom!Lucifer, fingering, oral, and penetration (Lucifer receiving), begging, pact commands, praise, a lil bit of hair pulling, Lucifer bein' a little bratty but like he's still him y'know... not sure how else to describe that lol

Something was going on with Lucifer. You could tell when he was distracted at breakfast, when his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere on the way to RAD, and especially when he didn't react at all to his brothers' bickering.

You knew you had to get him alone if you wanted to know what was on his mind. He wouldn't open up with anyone else around.

As the day passed, you kept looking for a good opportunity. It finally came after Devildom Law. As the two of you exited the classroom, you remembered that there was a small alcove nearby. You grabbed Lucifer's hand and pulled him into the relative privacy of the small space.

To your complete surprise, he barely resisted. A slight tug against your hand and a muttered, "MC" was the entirety of his reaction.

Once you were safely ensconced, you raised your eyebrows at him, his hand still firmly in your own, your bodies almost touching. "What's the matter with you today?"

Lucifer's gaze seemed distant as he stared at you for a moment. And then he snapped out of it, his brow furrowing and his mouth turning into a frown.

He pulled his hand out of yours. "There's nothing the matter with me."

You folded your arms. "Is that so? Then why didn't you stop Asmo and Levi from arguing at the breakfast table this morning? Or tell Belphie not to sleep through Devildom Law? You're distracted."

"Are you suggesting that I'm failing in my duties to keep my brothers in line?" There was a slight edge to this question. A tone that somehow indicated both irritation and resignation.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," you said. You smirked, running your knuckles down his cheek. "Don't worry. I can tell you've just got too much on your plate. Why don't you let me help you relax?"

Lucifer grabbed your wrist, but didn't pull your hand away from his cheek. "What makes you think you can?"

You pretended to be offended. "It's me," you said. "Do you even need to ask?"

Lucifer turned slightly away from you, about to leave. "If you really think you can help, then come to my room when you get back to the House of Lamentation."

You didn't say anything as Lucifer walked off, but you smiled to yourself. You were sure he would be thinking about later for the rest of the day.

In fact, you had the pleasure of watching him squirm whenever he caught your eye across the room. It was even better when you smiled knowingly at him, making him blush and look away.

If the others noticed anything, they didn't dare to say.

So you knew that Lucifer was already in a flustered state by the time you found yourself standing outside his bedroom door that evening.

You knocked politely, as if you were only there to check in on him.

Lucifer made you wait. You could hear him moving around, but it took a long time for him to finally open the door. He looked at you as though he was surprised to see you there.

"Are you going to let me in?" you asked.

Lucifer huffed and left the door open for you, going back into the room. You followed him and closed it behind you with a soft click.

Lucifer's back was to you. He had changed out of his RAD uniform when he arrived home, but now his coat was discarded, his sleeves rolled up, and even his tie slightly undone. He rubbed at his eyes again.

You walked up to him, letting your fingers trail across his back. Lucifer sighed and you could feel the tension in his muscles.

"So?" you asked. "Are you going to listen to me? Or are you going to fight me?"

Lucifer jerked away from you a little, sitting down on his bed. He folded his arms and looked at you with an expression that would be petulant on anyone else. For him, it was leaned more toward irritation.

"You certainly think highly of yourself," Lucifer said.

You knew then that it was going to be a task to get him to relax the way you wanted him to. He was already too uptight, already too wound up from the amount of work he'd had to do lately.

You smirked. "Fighting me, then," you said.

You didn't wait for his response, only strode over to him and straddled his lap. He steadied your hips with his hands, but waited with a frown on his face.

"Don't look like that," you said, cupping his cheeks. "I only want to make you feel better."

"I don't need your help," Lucifer said brusquely.

Your response was to kiss him. Despite his attitude, Lucifer didn't resist. It was careful at first, lips pressed lightly against each other. But you knew it wasn't enough and you didn't want him to think that things would be easy for him. You reached up, grasped a handful of his hair, and pulled his head back. He gasped and you took advantage of his now open mouth, letting your tongue slide against his.

The heat that suddenly radiated off his skin was so satisfying. You tugged on his hair a little more, enjoying the slight movement of his head, the way his hands squeezed you harder, the desperate moan that he couldn't hold back.

You broke away abruptly, removing yourself from him entirely. You stood before him, just out of reach. His face was flushed, his mouth slightly open, hair askew.

"MC," he said and his tone was completely changed.

You cocked your head to the side. "What's that? I thought you didn't need my help."

Lucifer stood up, moved toward you, put his hands back on your waist. "I don't," he said.

You chuckled at that response. He was so predictable. You moved away again. "All right, then. I have other things to do tonight. I'll see you tomorrow."

You walked toward his door.

"MC, wait."

You paused, your hand on the door knob. You looked over your shoulder at him.

Lucifer couldn't look at you.

"Yes?" you prompted.

Lucifer blushed, his eyes closed. "Please don't leave."

You turned back to him, amused. You walked up to him and suddenly took hold of his tie. "Look at me."

Lucifer opened his eyes and met yours.

"If you want me to take care of you, stop acting like you don't," you said. "Get on your knees and beg."

Lucifer sank to his knees, straining against your hold on his tie. You lowered your hand with him, so he wouldn't be strangled, but you didn't let go.

Once he was on his knees before you, Lucifer reached out, putting his hands on your hips again. "Please, MC," he said.

"Please what?" you asked. You really wanted to make him work for it.

Lucifer's blush deepened. "Please… command me…"

Your expression softened and you smiled at him. If there was one thing Lucifer secretly enjoyed, it was being commanded by his pact with you.

"Lucifer," you said, your voice soft in the quiet room. "Tell me the truth."

You felt a surge of satisfaction as Lucifer's eyes widened. He hadn't been expecting that. He somehow maintained his position as the truth spilled from his lips.

"I'm so stressed I can't sleep at night," he said. "I'm losing track of all the things I have to do and it makes me feel incompetent. I can't control my brothers. I can barely take care of myself anymore. All I want is for you to take care of me, just for tonight."

You didn't think he could blush any harder and yet…

You let go of his tie, took hold of his hands, and pulled him to his feet. You pushed him back on his bed then climbed up on top of him, dropping kisses along his jaw and down his neck. You paused for a moment to look into his eyes. "Good boy."

You thought he might come right then and there, but all he did was close his eyes and exhale sharply.

You made quick work of his suit, starting by removing his tie entirely and working your way down until there was nothing left. He remained still as you looked over his naked body. He was beautiful. No matter how he acted with you, you couldn't deny this fact.

Lucifer's red eyes seemed to glow in the dim light, but there was a shyness about his expression that you wanted to admire for a moment. He was blushing still, the pink hue highlighting his cheekbones and descending across his neck and shoulders.

He watched you for a moment while you removed your own clothes quickly, getting yourself ready to ravage him completely.

You were pleased with how quiet and docile he had become, as though speaking the truth of his needs and wants had finally tamed him.

You climbed up onto the bed and settled on top of him, kissing his slightly parted lips. Lucifer reacted immediately, opening his mouth for you and arching his back. You broke away to kiss down his chest, paying special attention to each nipple as you went lower and lower.

Your fingers played around the base of his already straining cock. You hovered above it, looking up at him with a smile.

"MC," he managed to say between heaving breaths. You saw the way his hands were twisted into the sheets beneath him.

"Desperate, aren't you?" you asked.

"Please, MC," he said and you were surprised that he didn't break eye contact with you.

You decided to reward him a little for this and took his cock into your mouth. The way he attempted to prevent himself from bucking up his hips was adorable. He didn't quite manage it, but you didn't mind. You pressed down on them yourself, letting the tension of his muscles create a slight ache for him. He moaned so deliciously, you almost wanted to let him come in your mouth.

But you didn't. You pulled your mouth away. The whine that slowly escaped him was so satisfying.

He looked up at you as you readjusted yourself. His eyes were half lidded and he looked a bit dizzy. He didn't protest further, only waited for whatever you had planned next.

You knelt between his legs, let your fingers dance lightly across his thighs. He squirmed a bit beneath you, still panting heavily. He seemed to anticipate your intentions, letting go of the sheets for a moment to pull some lubricant out of his bedside drawer, shoving it toward you incoherently.

You smirked and took it from him. "Always so prepared."

Lucifer blushed and looked away, turning his head on the pillow and digging his hand back into the sheets.

You tutted. "Don't turn away from me," you said, reaching out to turn his face back toward you.

You wanted to watch his delightful expressions as you pressed each lubed finger into his hole. The little gasps and moans, the fluttering of his eyes open and shut, and at the third finger the teeth biting his bottom lip.

That was more than you could take. You slipped your fingers out of him and put your cock inside instead.

The minute you entered him, Lucifer gasped and wrapped his legs around your waist. You positioned yourself over him, letting your arms rest on either side of his head, so you could kiss him as you began to thrust into him.

Lucifer moaned against your mouth, his body moving in time with yours, his back arching up and his hips jerking. You leaned to one side, allowing space for you to reach between your bodies, gripping his cock which was already leaking all over your stomachs. Your lips trailed along his neck, down his shoulder, across his chest, timing your kisses with each thrust and pump of his cock.

Lucifer was a mess in moments, though he tried to keep himself quiet, his moans and heavy gasps inevitably became louder.

His hands left the sheets to clutch at your back instead, fingernails running down your skin, but not breaking it. You didn't know if he had the presence of mind not to make you bleed or if it was simply that he was too weak from pleasure to do much damage.

He cried out your name as his cum splattered hot and heavy between you. The warmth of it seeped across your belly and dripped down your thighs. The sight of him and the evidence of his orgasm heating your skin, the somehow still melodic sound of his voice though it was ragged, the feeling of his hands on you, still grasping but now with barely any strength, everything was a small piece of the overall sensation of being in him, of being with him, of being the one to make him come completely undone. It was enough to bring you to the edge yourself.

You pulled out of him quickly, knowing how he would make a fuss about cleaning up, but to your surprise he seemed unable to move. He stayed limp against the sheets, his eyes half closed as he stared at the ceiling.

You couldn't help but laugh softly to yourself. You were quite pleased with how flushed and dazed he looked.

You took care of him, though. This had been meant to relax him and now that he was finally limp and pliable on the bed, it was time to pamper him. You cleaned yourself first, then cleaned him up as well, doing whatever he needed you to until he felt he was decent enough to allow you to snuggle in with him beneath his blankets.

You held him in your arms, his head pressed against your chest. You felt the soft air of his breathing, the light tickle of his hair against your skin. You ran your fingers through it gently.

"Now are you glad I was here to help you?" you asked.

Lucifer huffed against you. "I won't tolerate any more of your teasing, MC," he said. "If you continue, I'll kick you out of my room."

You laughed. It was an empty threat and you both knew it. You kissed his head as he snuggled closer. Tomorrow, you would wake up a little earlier than him just so you could make him some hell coffee. He deserved a little break after all he'd been through. But for now, you enjoyed the warmth of his skin against yours as you drifted into a peaceful slumber.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[fairyniceyeah]

💎🍊Like the sky

Title from 24H (SEVENTEEN)

Summary: Seungkwan did not want to be always thought of as the kid that puked on the plane next to Na PD. That ship - plane? - had sailed and sunk, though, along with Seungkwan’s dignity. 

CW: emeto

Sickie: Seungkwan Caretakers: Jeonghan + DK/Seokmin + Na PD

Seungkwan was excited. How could he not be? They were flying to Italy of all places. He had never been to Europe before and neither had the members. That alone was more than enough to make him forgive Na PD that they were dragged from their hotel rooms in the middle of the night.

It was really refreshing to navigate an airport without fans swarming them, after all not even the group and most of their managers had known about the flight times being fake. Even the transfer in Incheon (except for Mingyu’s lost and found passport) had been relaxed. Seungkwan still could barely believe that they were doing “Youth over flowers” - or “Nana Tour” as they called it - even as he told his eomma about it, minutes before their flight to Incheon had taken off. 

It was starting to sink in when he sat down in his middle row seat between Vernon and Na PD in the airplane to Rome. While most of the members were exhausted after the concerts and the lack of sleep, Seungkwan couldn’t feel more awake. While Vernon fell asleep next to him, Seungkwan started chatting with Na PD.

Yet by the time lunch was handed out by the flight attendants, Seungkwan was starting to feel tired. He had been in the group celebrating after the concert after all, together with Mingyu, Joshua, Dino and Hoshi. And while most of the others had napped, Seungkwan had stayed awake during the flights. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to sleep, he was just too excited and anxious about their time in Italy.

Vernon woke up by himself from the noise of food getting handed out - or maybe it was just his intuitive sense whenever food was around - and he dug in, clearly very hungry. Seungkwan, for some reason, did not feel hungry at all. He stirred the bibimbap around half-heartedly but couldn’t find it in himself to take more than a bite. It tasted good, but he … well, he felt weird. Off. He couldn’t place it. Maybe he was just tired.

But as he leaned back, intending on rest, sleep still wouldn’t come. No matter how much he tossed and turned, he couldn’t feel comfortable. Maybe it was the motion of the plane? It wasn’t like Seungkwan to dislike planes, per se, but right now he felt the motor whirring to an extreme. 

Restlessness overcame him and he pushed the button to get his seat upright again, taking his earphones off. Maybe moving around a bit would help. They had been trapped on the plane for some hours now after all.

“Oh, Seungkwan”, Na PD said surprised, looking over. The producer had been working on his laptop doing one thing or another, but now he focused on the maknae-line member again. “I thought you wanted to sleep.”

“I did. I do”, Seungkwan admitted, running his fingers through his hair. On his other side, Vernon ignored their conversation, focused on his movie. “I guess I am still on too much adrenaline for that. Can you let me through? I want to walk around a bit, stretch my legs, you know.”

“Yeah, hold on”, Na PD agreed, letting Seungkwan slip past him into the aisle. 

Seungkwan smiled to himself a bit as he wandered down the aisle. In the row in front of his, Dino, Hoshi and Jeonghan were all knocked out asleep. He had seen Dino eat but he was pretty sure that Hoshi, after all his alcohol consumption the previous night, and Jeonghan, always so tired after concerts, had not woken up for lunch. He made a mental note to make sure they ate dinner at least.

He spotted Joshua completely engrossed by a movie on his phone, while Jun was asleep in the middle seat next to a manager. Further in the front, Seokmin took off his headphones as he saw Seungkwan walk past. Next to him, Mingyu was passed out, mouth open and slightly snoring. 

“Hey, Kwannie”, Seokmin said with a wide grin, “I still can’t believe we’re going to Italy together.”

“Me neither”, Seungkwan replied, leaning against the side of Mingyu’s seat. “Manager-nim, how could you betray us like that?”

The manager next to Seokmin laughed. “Don’t whine, Seungkwan-ah. You all wanted a surprise, after all. It worked well, didn’t it?”

“True. Anyways, I will leave you to your devices. I don’t wanna wake Mingyu-hyung and I do want to stretch my legs.”

“Ha, don’t care about Mingyu. He just woke up for lunch and fell asleep again. If he sleeps the whole flight away he won’t be able to sleep tonight when we arrive. In Rome.”

“In Rome”, Seungkwan agreed, “wow, I still can’t believe it. It’s gonna be amazing. Enjoy your movie.”

Seungkwan walked down to the front of the plane, where in the first row Woozi, Minghao and Wonwoo sat. Well, Minghao sat. Woozi and Wonwoo were asleep. Minghao looked up at Seungkwan and waved, taking off his earphone on one ear.

“Seungkwan-ah, what’s up?”

“Just stretching my legs. I feel weird, cagey. Restless. I think I’m just nervous for Italy”, Seungkwan said. “How about you?”

“Well, currently, bored out of my mind”, Minghao replied, rolling his eyes. “I feel like I watched everything already. And my seat mates are … not helpful.”

“Woozi-hyung again asleep the whole flight?”, Seungkwan asked with a laugh. It was well known that Woozi would sleep through any travels if they let him. They couldn’t blame him, he always worked so hard and rest was difficult to come by at some points in his life, especially before tours. So of course he would take any chance he could get to sleep.

“I don’t think he realized how tired he was until he basically passed out the moment he sat down. I actually had to tuck him in.” The dancer shook his head fondly. “Wonwoo-hyung betrayed me after lunch. I think the only thing that helped him stay awake before was the thought of food.”

Seungkwan laughed again. “Maybe get some rest yourself then. Italy is gonna be fun but exhausting too, I believe.”

“Yeah, I will. Try to sleep too, Kwannie. You’re looking really pale and tired.”

With a last wave, Seungkwan walked on, finding the bathroom occupied. No matter. He rounded the middle row in the front where the flight attendants were standing and preparing another drinks cart. There was where he really noticed the shaking of the plane under his feet, causing him to stumble a bit. Nevertheless, he pushed on, set on at least walking up to their row and maybe around again. 

First, however, bathroom. 

The bathroom on the other side of the aisle luckily was free, so he slipped inside, cursing as he stumbled again. What was wrong with him? The lights of the bathroom weren’t even that bright but suddenly they seemed blinding.

Maybe he would just walk back to his seat and sleep after all. Exhaustion hit him like a truck.

He exited the bathroom and walked back, down the other side of the aisle, passing a sleeping front row, Seokmin waving at him, Joshua still staring at his phone but this time with drooping eyes and another sleeping row of members. Without looking up from his phone, Vernon moved his legs to the side, letting Seungkwan crash into his middle seat. 

Seungkwan put his earphones in again and leaned back, though not yet reclining his seat. He took out his phone and put on his comfort playlist. Then, the helpless phone-addict he was, instead of putting his phone away, he opened his gallery and scrolled through his photos. He instantly missed Seungcheol when he spotted the group picture they had taken after the first concert night. It took some time until he could pull himself away from his phone and even by then he couldn’t sleep.

He felt incredibly tired and yet something kept him from entering dreamland. There was a weird feeling in his stomach, one he couldn’t place at all. Well, he didn’t want to place. Because it felt distinctly like nausea. 

Seungkwan wasn’t as prone to motion sickness as other members (cough, Jeonghan, cough, Jun, cough, Woozi, cough, Minghao, cough, Vernon) but flights somehow did it for him. Especially when he was overly tired after concerts and had not slept for quite some time. Which … which fit his situation like a lid on a pot. Surely his late night activities had not helped at all. 

But that couldn't be happening. Not when he was trapped between squeamish Vernon and friendly, but still a stranger and a respected sunbaenim, Na PD. Not when he was looking so much forward to Europe. Not when he had taken his motion sickness meds just in case.

… damn, he had not taken them. He had packed them into his bag at the hotel. The bag that had been taken from him, as bags were not allowed in the program. And in the heat of the moment he had forgotten to take them with him.

If now was not the time but think this, when was? Fuck my life. 

Seungkwan was screwed.

💎

The more he thought about it, the more nauseous and dizzy Seungkwan felt.

His stomach rolled uncomfortably and he was feeling so overheated, he had already rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt as much as possible. He kept his eyes closed, unwilling to inflict the dizziness of open eyes upon himself. 

If he was honest, he hoped that walking around would help him feel better. Sometimes it did. Sitting down made the motion of the plane even worse. 

But in a strange fit of nervousness, he didn’t feel comfortable disturbing Vernon or Na PD again with wanting to pass them. Vernon was half-asleep, as far as Seungkwan had noticed and Na PD seemed to be fighting sleep as well. Seungkwan would give so much right now for the possibility of sleep.

He placed his hand on his stomach and nervously opened his eyes. The black screen in front of him mirrored his patheticness back at him. Seungkwan had to swallow as his own reflection seemed to tilt away. Looking down at the amenity pouch in the net below the TV was an airsickness bag taunting him. Seungkwan looked up instantly, feeling like the sight of it made his nausea actually worse. 

No, it was not the bag at all. He really was not doing well. His mouth started to feel dry and it was then that Seungkwan knew he had lost the battle that had not yet even begun. 

“Hansollie”, he whispered, shaking his best friend’s knee carefully.

Vernon opened his eyes, a bit annoyed but softened when he saw Seungkwan. “You okay?”, he mouthed.

“Yeah”, Seungkwan lied, not willing to make Vernon worry over something that had not yet happened, “I just need to use the bathroom. I think I drank a bit too much water, sorry.”

In all honesty he hadn’t been able to even entertain the thought of swallowing water for some time now but Vernon didn’t need to know that either.

“It’s fine”, Vernon replied and made space for Seungkwan to pass through, “if I fall asleep before you come back, just wake me.”

This time, as he hurried down the aisle, he ignored the members trying to talk to him, if there were any. He didn’t know. The only thing he was focused on was reaching the bathroom in time. 

But as he reached the door he found the occupation symbol on “locked”. Oh no. He stumbled a step back until he hit the opposite wall, pressing a hand to his mouth. This was terrible. He wasn’t sure if he could round the aisle again in time and beside, there was another passenger - an older gentleman who had been terribly confused by the members - heading to it now. 

Seungkwan couldn’t help the slight whimper as his throat tightened and his mouth began to salivate. The nausea was ever present now, unable to be pushed aside for anything. Seungkwan was sure if the person inside didn’t open the door in the next minute he’d throw up right there in the aisle of the plane. The thought alone nearly brought tears to his eyes.

He contemplated waking one of the members in the front row, but with the side of the aisle he was on, he would only be able to reach Woozi - who would not wake easily now that he was asleep. And there was nothing they could do anyways.

Suddenly. The lock clicked and the door opened, showing Seokmin.

“Seungkwan?”, the older vocalist asked, confused, when he saw him, but the maknae was running out of time. 

“Move”, he gasped, going so far to pull Seokmin into the aisle and push past him. He didn’t even manage to make it to the toilet. Sick sprayed from between his fingers as he leaned over the sink, gagging and retching and crying. 

“Oh. Oh. Kwannie”, Seokmin whispered, stunned. Right, the door was still open.

Seungkwan couldn’t answer him, too preoccupied with turning himself inside out. He retched, actually feeling the huge wave of vomit coming up his throat before it splattered into the poor sink that was definitely not made for being puked into. Already it was clogging. Seokmin, too, realized.

One of his hands reached for Seungkwan’s back, gently turning the violently sick member towards the toilet in a moment of respite. With their changed positions Seokmin was even able to close the door behind himself for which Seungkwan was so endlessly thankful.

His knees buckled with the next strain of vomiting and carefully Seokmin guided him to the floor. If Seungkwan hadn’t felt disgusting before, he would have started then. Kneeling in a public bathroom, an airplane bathroom even worse, was without doubt the most revolting thing Seungkwan had ever done. Just the thought sent more vomit up into the metal bowl below him.

“Kwannie. Kwannie”, Seokmin whispered, rubbing his back and using his other hand to hold Seungkwan up by his shoulder, “breathe. You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

Slowly, very slowly, Seungkwan’s stomach calmed down. He spat into the toilet below him and after a few moments he felt well enough to lean back into the comforting embrace of the older vocalist. Seokmin rubbed his shoulder and pressed a kiss to Seungkwan’s temple. 

“What’s happening?”, he asked gently, reaching up to flush the mess away, “did you feel sick earlier too? Are you hungover?”

Seungkwan shook his head, flushing in embarrassment. He wasn’t sure if being hungover would be preferable to being airsick. Maybe. At least he would only have himself to blame.

“I didn’t get to take my motion sickness meds.”

“That explains it.” Seokmin sighed. “Alright, do you feel well enough to go back to your seat? I don’t think staying here will help.”

Seungkwan could only nod in agreement and with Seokmin’s help he managed to stand up, more or less. His vision swirled and he nearly would have fallen if his hyung didn’t wrap a strong arm around his waist. “I got you, Kwannie.”

When they stepped outside after cleaning up they were greeted by a worried flight attendant who mustered Seungkwan up and down before giving him a slight smile. “Not feeling so good, huh?”

“Sorry”, Seungkwan managed, hanging his head. If he wasn’t already so hot from the nausea he was sure his face would be burning with humiliation right now.

“It happens”, she said, “sit down, I’ll get you some airsickness bags and some ginger ale. Do you want some motion sickness pills too?”

“Thank you so much”, Seokmin said, “please, that would be so helpful.”

💎

It was a bit awkward to walk down the aisle together and Seungkwan swore he could feel the eyes of all passengers on him at his walk of shame. It didn’t help that he had to hold onto Seokmin to stay upright, vision swirling and disorienting him.

Minghao was watching them with worry as they passed, as did Wonwoo. They must have woken up from the commotion after all. Seeing how pitiful Seungkwan looked, guessing what had happened wasn’t hard.

“Airsick?”, Wonwoo immediately concluded. Seungkwan didn’t have the strength to reply, more focused on staying upright. He felt Seokmin nod behind him more than he saw. 

Minghao reached over the still sleeping Woozi to gently squeeze Seungkwan’s hand. “Feel better soon. If you need anything, let us know. I will even face Woozi-hyung’s wrath if I have to wake him to help you.”

Seungkwan couldn’t help but giggle wetly. It was always a bit funny when Woozi tried yelling at one of the members (not that he would ever admit that, he liked living, thank you very much), his height just making it look cute. Especially if Mingyu was his victim, then it was just funny to see the taller member basically shrink away, despite their size difference, intimidated. 

“Thanks”, he whispered. 

Seokmin ushered him along the aisle, stopping when they arrived at the row he shared with a manager and the now awake Mingyu, who looked concerned but also a bit weary. He too wasn't a fan of vomit, like Vernon, so Seungkwan couldn't blame him.

The older vocalist quickly informed the worried manager about the situation but firmly told him they had it under control and would take care of Seungkwan themselves. Seungkwan was thankful - while the members were all tired and deserved their sleep - he couldn’t imagine getting taken care of by a manager. 

They walked past Joshua, who was now definitely asleep while holding his phone still playing his movie, and Jun, still sleeping. 

It seemed like Jeonghan and Hoshi had either been woken up by Seungkwan’s earlier hasty escape from his seat or on their own. No matter what, they looked incredibly worried when Seungkwan and Seokmin approached. Seungkwan wasn’t sure what tipped them off that something was wrong but maybe it was his … everything. Jeonghan instantly stood up as soon as they were close, opening his arms. Seungkwan took a step forward and fell into his second-oldest hyung’s arms. 

“Hannie-hyung”, he whispered, clutching the back of Jeonghan’s shirt and pressing his face into his front to hide himself from the world and the ever present dizziness. “I don’t feel good.”

“Seungkwannie”, Jeonghan mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of Seungkwan’s head. “You threw up?”

Seungkwan nodded against his chest.

“Are you hungover or airsick or sick sick?”, Hoshi asked, patting Seungkwan’s arm from where he could barely reach him.

“Airsick, I think”, Seungkwan replied.

“Aish, Kwannie”, Hoshi said, “did the meds not help this time?”

“I didn’t take them.”

“Why would you not?” Jeonghan sounded curious and confused at the same time. “You know how you get on long flights.”

“I know, I know. It's just the … the meds were in my bag.”

Instantly he felt Jeonghan stiffen in anger. It wasn’t the show’s fault, nobody’s fault, it had just been a bad row of decisions. Yet, Jeonghan looked ready to burn something or someone to the ground. Sure, Seungkwan understood where he was coming from and they all knew how overprotective he could be, but he didn’t want a fuss. And he most certainly didn’t want Jeonghan to yell at poor Na PD, who he was eyeing already. 

“Hyung”, Seungkwan said, tugging at Jeonghan’s hand, “I just want to sleep. Stay with me?”

“Of course, baby”, Jeonghan said, his anger leaving instantly. “Aish, what are we going to do with you?” His eyes narrowed on DK. “Seokminnie, have you slept during the flight?”

Seokmin’s eyes widened in return and he shook his head.

“Sit”, Jeonghan ordered, pointing at his own seat. “Sleep. I’ll go sit with Kwannie in the back and Vernon should be far away enough in your seat, I think. We don’t need him to freak out.”

Seungkwan ended up on Seokmin’s lap with Hoshi holding his hand, while Jeonghan woke a confused Vernon and sent him to Seokmin’s old seat by Mingyu. Vernon gave Seungkwan a worried glance but he also hurried away quickly, so making him leave was a good decision. 

“Come here, baby”, Jeonghan said, pulling Seungkwan up again and moving him to his middle seat in the last row. “I know this isn’t really a good space for cuddles but I’ll stay with you, okay? Do you think you could sleep?”

Seungkwan managed to get a second to think about the question when the flight attendant arrived with supplies. She looked really sympathetic to his plight and she even brought ice chips and extra pillows in case he wanted them. Jeonghan gratefully took the supplies, placing the ice chips, the motion sickness pills and the ginger ale onto the tray in front of him, then took all but one airsickness bag and tucked them next to their shared armrest, handing the leftover one to Seungkwan just in case of immediate emergency. The pillows were placed onto Jeonghan’s seat for now, so Seungkwan could get adjusted. 

“Are you comfy?”, Jeonghan asked once everything was arranged for maximum comfort and he thanked the flight attendant repeatedly. 

Seungkwan shrugged. “As comfy as I can be. I’m still so hot and nauseous.”

“Do you need to be sick again?” Jeonghan reached up and brushed Seungkwan’s hair from his face.

“Not yet.”

“So you think you’re going to at some point?”

Seungkwan nodded, feeling embarrassed again. He couldn’t help but be very aware of the fact that Na PD was sleeping beside him. 

Jeonghan sighed and adjusted himself so he sat cross legged on the seat, facing Seungkwan, his back to the aisle. “Do you want to try the pills?”

Seungkwan shook his head. There was no way he could swallow anything right now. 

“Alright. Why don’t you lean back and try to sleep through it? If that doesn’t work, we’ll see how else to help you. I promise I’m gonna stay right here with you.”

💎

Seungkwan managed to doze a bit. He never was truly asleep but he was finally sleepy. And Jeonghan’s hand in his hair was comforting. He thought he heard the older vocalist talk to somebody a few times but he was too tired to open his eyes.

But that state of peace couldn’t hold on for eternity. 

If he had to guess, it was maybe an hour after he had thrown up, when Seungkwan felt his stomach start to churn in that dangerous way again. He opened his eyes panically, pushing himself up a bit from his reclined position. Jeonghan was still sitting next to him and he smiled gently when he saw Seungkwan wake up.

“Hey, baby, how are you feeling?”

“Not good”, Seungkwan groaned, “Hannie-hyung…”

“Oh, oh. Okay.” Jeonghan instantly understood what Seungkwan was unable to say out loud. “Here you go.”

An airsickness bag was placed into his hands, already opened. Seungkwan bent over it, opening his mouth. Spit dangled down his lips but he couldn’t help it. Swallowing was out of the question.

One of Jeonghan’s hands moved to his hair, the second took hold of the bag as well. It was probably a good idea, Seungkwan’s hands felt terribly shaky and sweaty, and he didn’t know if he had the strength to hold the bag on his own. 

A sudden burp had Seungkwan whine in nervousness but then bitterness rose in his throat and filled his mouth, making him feel like he was choking. With a tiny cry, Seungkwan spat the vomit into the bag, triggering another wave to come up. He gagged harshly and loudly, feeling his cheeks heat up. He did not want people to hear or watch but what could he do?

Jeonghan kept whispering sweet reassurances, but Seungkwan was distracted by a hand on his back. Unless his hyung had suddenly grown a third hand, it wasn’t his. And from the direction it seemed to come…

Seungkwan’s musing were interrupted by another burp and more sick spilling into the already pretty full bag below him. He gagged and retched, just trying to get more sick up in hopes it would make his misery end sooner. 

“Let go, Kwan-ah”, Jeonghan mumbled, “I got another bag for you here, if you need it.”

Seungkwan let go of the full bag reluctantly, feeling somebody take it from him. As soon as the new bag was in front of his mouth, Seungkwan retched again but this time nothing came up. He dry-heaved repeatedly until his throat was raw but he couldn’t help it.

“Breathe, love”, Jeonghan encouraged, “it’s okay, you’re done for now.”

Seungkwan groaned but managed to stop the useless heaving. He fell back against his backrest in exhaustion, silent tears streaming down his face. A cold cloth started patting his mouth, cleaning rests of vomit and spit away, and Seungkwan opened his eyes.

Jeonghan was smiling at him but as Seungkwan became more aware of his surroundings he felt horror washing over him. Na PD was awake and, oh God, he was placing the clearly full puke bag into a plastic bag a flight attendant held out for him. 

The famed producer had obviously witnessed Seungkwan’s … episode and now he was even disposing of the evidence. Seungkwan couldn’t help but burst into hysterical tears. It was so humiliating and Seungkwan did not want to be always thought of as the kid that puked on the plane next to him. That ship had sailed and sunk, though, along with Seungkwan’s dignity. 

“Kwan-ah, baby, don’t cry”, Jeonghan whispered, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around the sobbing maknae. Seungkwan buried his face in Jeonghan’s neck, whole body trembling with his cries. “Don’t cry. You’ll make yourself sick again.”

A warm hand came to rest on Seungkwan’s back again, rubbing comforting circles. Seungkwan managed to stifle his cries slowly, aware that he was making a scene. Again. 

“That’s it”, Jeonghan encouraged, pressing a kiss to Seungkwan’s hair, “we know you’re tired and not feeling well, it’s okay.”

As Seungkwan removed himself from his hyung’s arms, pulling his knees to his chest, he became aware that Na PD was watching him and that it was his hand on Seungkwan’s back. 

“I’m sorry, PD-nim”, Seungkwan apologized, bowing his head. It was bad enough that nearly the whole group and the managers were involved. It wasn’t Na PD’s job to take care of Seungkwan.

“Why are you sorry, Seungkwannie?”, Na PD asked, genuine confusion in his voice, “if anybody it should be us who are sorry. Jeonghannie told me that you had meds in the bag we confiscated. I can understand that in the stress of last night you forgot to take it with you, we should have made sure to remind you to take medication with yourselves.”

“I should have remembered”, Seungkwan mumbled, “I know how flights affect me. Besides, I am pretty sure that Joshua-hyung and Woozi-hyung didn’t forget their meds.”

“Everybody makes mistakes or forgets stuff sometimes”, Na PD comforted, still rubbing Seungkwan’s back, “but, yeah, I am pretty sure Woozi at least got his meds with the way he is sleeping. I think the flight attendants were actually worried if he was still breathing.”

Seungkwan laughed at that. He knew Na PD was trying to cheer him up and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it helped. “No, that’s just Woozi-hyung’s speciality of being able to sleep until he is woken. If we hadn’t left when we did, the road manager team would have found him in the same uncomfortable sleeping position at the hotel hours later.”

Jeonghan joined into the laughter. “Kwannie is right. Jihoonie is ridiculous like that.”

Na PD was the first to sober up from the laughing fit, gently asking: “Are you feeling better now, Seungkwan? Is there anything we can do to help you?”

Seungkwan was still a bit embarrassed but he understood that Na PD didn’t care about the situation at all which helped a bit. He nodded. “I am feeling better, I think. I want to try the meds if possible.”

Jeonghan instantly had a pill on hand, pressing it into Seungkwan’s hand and handing him a cup of ginger ale. Seungkwan managed to swallow the pill easily, for the first time realizing how bad his mouth had tasted when the ginger ale took the sour taste of bile away.

“We’re not filming much for the rest of the flight”, Na PD explained, “I think we got good content already. Stay like this if you want to. We should include dinner in a few hours where you probably should get back to your assigned seats to stop confusion on the side of the viewers. If anything happens, I got you, Seungkwannie. Just a few hours left and then we’re in Rome! Fighting, huh?”

“Fighting.” Seungkwan nodded. He curled up on his seat, set on finally getting some rest.

💎

He did end up falling asleep quickly. The next time he woke up was to a female manager waking him to ask if he wanted to eat dinner, which he declined. By that time Jeonghan had returned to his own seat, but it seemed like Vernon and Seokmin had permanently swapped seats.

“Hey, you're awake”, Na PD greeted from Seungkwan’s left. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. Good”. Seungkwan smiled. “Ready for Italy.”

Na PD wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled Seungkwan to rest his head on his shoulder.

“I hope you enjoy it, kiddo. You've worked hard. You deserve it.”

Masterlist links: Fairy's Full Masterlist Fairy's Masterlist - SEVENTEEN

Notes (that would probably would require their own post): 

To anybody who has not watched Nana Tour, I will just explain a few things. In the beginning they are pulled from either the karaoke hotel room (Joshua, Hoshi, Mingyu, Seungkwan and Dino) where they were a bit drunk or from their hotel room beds (the rest, except for Seungcheol who knew the plan but didn't join due to his knee injury). They fly from Japan to Incheon and from Incheon to Rome. 

Since I refer to that in the story: 

Woozi was sleeping on top of the covers of his hotel bed, looking like he had just passed out on his bed the moment he entered the room. And he sleeps for the entirety of the like 11 hour flight. Dude was Tired. 

Mingyu lost his passport in Incheon (DK had it) and DK nearly lost his at the end of the flight. 

People, you won’t believe how often I watched the flight scene of Nana Tour Episode 1. At least ten times just to figure out seating arrangements. It was all in good fun though and I feel if I actually knew Korean, I could just say the lines with them now XD 

In case it wasn’t clear in my writing, as far as I have seen, the seating arrangement is as follows, all of them in the three-seat middle row: 

End of First Class

Vernon - Seungkwan - Na PD

Jeonghan - Hoshi - Dino

…

Joshua - Jun - ??? 

…

??? - DK - Mingyu

…

Woozi - Minghao - Wonwoo

Front of plane

What I noticed: 

Seungkwan and Vernon are definitely in the back of first class, you can see the wall directly behind them. 

Jeonghan, Hoshi and Dino are also very much in the back and from the space and angles it looks like they are directly in front of Vernon and Seungkwan. 

When they returned to the plane at the beginning of the flight, after figuring out that DK had Mingyu’s passport all along, the camera passes Wonwoo and goes a few rows before DK and Mingyu are shown, so they must be somewhere in the middle. 

So Wonwoo, Minghao and Woozi are more in the front and from the TV arrangement which differs from the rest of the group’s angles they must have differently designed seats, so they are likely in the very front, which also looks likely to be that way when they exit.

Joshua and Jun are never shown in any spatial relation to the others so I just put them somewhere in the middle, but I think they are further in the back than DK and Mingyu since when exiting the plane Jun at least seems to come from behind them.

The ??? I believe are managers but I don’t know. They weren’t filmed so I took creative liberty with it. Na PD also wasn’t filmed on the flight but when they look for DK’s passport (at the end of the flight), they go back to Na PD’s seat which seems to be in the back. So I concluded he sat next to Seungkwan (also for convenience of the story), since the second to last row is full and everybody else is sitting in the middle row, so he could technically only sit there. 

I feel like I “researched” this so much, I needed to share that with you lol

[haileycantcometothephonern]

Scars

Spencer x fem!reader

Prequel fic to this part (but can be read alone)

CW: pregnancy, kidnapping, torture, angst, also a little bit fluff. (not proofread)

___________________________________

18 months ago

You felt the kicks before you felt the warm sun rays waking you up from your deep sleep. Your baby has been quite excited, you can tell. She is keen to meet her mom and dad, it seems. You open your eyes slowly and crack a smile at your very pregnant belly.

Sydney. That's what you both decided her name would be. Such a pretty name really. You immediately got up to make yourself some breakfast as your daughter isn't so calm when she starts to get hungry.

You then remember the absence of your husband. You really hoped he would be here before next week, as that's when your due date was and your daughter might come out any moment now. You didn't want Spencer to miss such a pivotal moment of your child's birth. You knew how much he looked forward to it.

As you make yourself some breakfast filled with all kinds of nutrients, your mind goes through all of your pregnancy journey. Spencer and you have always wanted to start a family and you were blessed with your angel a few months ago. You were both equally excited about the new edition to your family and made sure to do thorough research about how to ensure that she's safe and healthy.

Spencer was also very present these past few months, putting his foot down when he is needed here by you or your daughter. You really appreciated his support throughout your pregnancy but since a few weeks he has been quite busy. You understood that he can't keep putting off work to stay with you, but you also wanted him to do that for you. Maybe it was selfish, but you were also on the verge of giving birth to an entire human and you wanted your husband there to support you.

You thought back to the call with Spencer last night as you had your breakfast and wondered when you'll get another update from him. You eventually realized that you're focusing on him too much and he must just be really busy saving lives, so you ended up watching some movie on the TV.

Ring. Ring.

You were jolted awake from your morning nap by your phone's ringtone. You immediately hoped that it was Spencer calling to tell you that he's home bound.

"Hello"

"Hey, baby! How are both of my girls doing?" Spencer sounded tired.

"We're doing good, would do better if you're here with us though." You pouted.

"I know, love. I'm already on the jet, and wanted to check on both of you before we started. Will be there by evening." He sighed into the phone and you can feel him physically relax his shoulders. The case must have been a tough one, well tougher than usual anyway.

"Oh that's great news. I'll start on dinner soon. Love you baby, say love you to papa syd." You tried to make Spencer feel a bit less stressed and you honestly felt really glad that he'll be home soon.

"I love you both, stay safe until i get home." Spencer parroted back, and you can hear the caution in his voice.

You suddenly remembered that you forgot to inform about your doctor's call last night.

"Uh Spence, Dr. Min just called me yesterday. She wanted to see us tomorrow, I told her that I'll let her know if we can after I spoke to you today."

"What did she want to talk about? Is everything alright? Are you okay? Is Sydney okay?" He immediately questioned with worry.

"Yes, yes, we are completely alright. And Dr.Min did not tell me what it was about as she had some emergency and ended the call urgently. But I'm sure it's nothing serious." You said with a doubtful tone, you didn't want him to overthink it during the whole ride.

"It's okay, baby. I'll call Dr.Min, and ask her what it's about. Just take care." Spencer tried to reassure you and ended the call as the pilot was ready for take off.

You ended up taking another nap while snacking on some fruit platter as you were still full from your breakfast when you were once again woken up by a knock this time.

You checked who it was through the peephole first, Spencer instilled this cautiousness in you. It was just some delivery guy, maybe it was the new blanket you ordered three days ago for Sydney.

You excitedly open the door and were about to take your order when the delivery guy is pushed aside and you are being dragged out of your house by two really burly men. You wanted to scream, but they had their guns pointed straight at your belly. You gulped and cooperated with them.

"What do you guys want?" You tried not to sound so scared.

"Your husband knows what we want. Don't worry you'll get out of this unscathed if he listens to our demands." One of them replied and pushed you into a black jeep.

After that your memory goes pretty hazy, as you assume that they drugged you. You regain consciousness after a while, you don't know how long it's been but it was darker outside. You can see that through the only basement window in the room that you were held in. Yep, that's definitely a basement that you were in. You weren't scared as you had complete trust in your husband and his colleagues. You trusted them to save you and your baby.

You then heard some voices from outside the door. You remembered one of the voices was the man who brought you here. Just as you were about to concentrate on what they were talking about, the door to the room opened. In walked the two men who kidnapped you.

"Dr. Reid, as promised. Your wife is here, unscathed. Just get us that plane, our money, and Jason. We'll be out of your hair." He screamed into the phone, you assume Spencer is on the other side of.

"No I'm not going to do anything until you let me talk to her." Spencer tried to sound as neutral as he can, but even you can sense the fear in his voice.

"Alright, suit yourself." The kidnapper placed the phone near your ear. "Speak."

"Hello, Spence?"

You could hear the relief in his voice when he asks you to stay strong like you always do and that he'll be there to get you soon.

"Everything will be alright, baby. I'll be there."

And you believed him. Because why wouldn't you. You believed him with your whole being. You believed him. You made that choice. You let him deceive you. You let him deceive not just you, but also your daughter.

Spencer wasn't there. He wasn't there to save you. He wasn't there to save Sydney. He wasn't there when they cut you. When they left bleeding to your death. When they left Sydney to die with her mom. You still don't have complete memory of what happened after the call.

BAU unlike every other time, failed to deliver on their promise and failed to save you or Sydney. The kidnappers tried to get what they wanted by harming you, thinking that'll motivate the BAU to submit to their demands. But this time, the kidnappers were wrong.

Spencer found you that night, almost at the verge of dying. His heart stopped at the sight of you. Multiple cuts on your arms and your collarbone. One large gash on both of your wrists, blood flowing out uncontrollably. If only they were a bit faster, if only Hotch would have agreed to their demands. He knew that he couldn't blame anyone else but himself for what happened that night. He stayed by your side at the hospital until you regained your consciousness.

"Spence, What happened? Where am I? Where's Sydney?" Your frantic voice woke him up from his seat beside your bed. He looked like he'd been through some kind of apocalypse, maybe he was. His hair unwashed and disheveled. His beard, unshaven. His eyes, sunken, surrounded by pigmentation. He looked like he was crying non-stop.

Your thoughts immediately went back to that night.

"Sydney. Where's Sydney, Spencer?" You asked cautiously.

He looked like he was on the verge of tears and held your hands. His lips opened and closed, and tears started streaming down his cheeks.

"No, no, no. It can't be. No, not her. Spence." You were beyond frantic now. The tears came first.

You didn't want to believe that she was no more. Your love, your angel, your baby. Your Sydney.

You sobbed and sobbed and hiccups echoing off the hospital walls. Throughout it all Spencer held you, letting you express your grief. He had his time, although he thought no time could heal this wound. He wanted so badly to redo everything.

The BAU had all visited you and him, offering their condolences. Hotch showed up too, expressing his regret and guilt. Spencer assured him that he doesn't hold anything against him. You didn't reply to anyone. Not him, not his mom, not your parents, nor your friends. You didn't have anything else to say. You didn't know what one says when they feel like their soul has been snatched away. Their voice had been hijacked. Only thing you can know and feel for sure was the ache in your heart and the emptiness in your womb.

Days passed away before you knew it and it was finally time to go home. Spencer packed everything up from your hospital room and called out to you.

"(Y/N), It's time to go home baby." He whispered slowly placing his hand on your shoulder.

You looked away from the windows and towards him. Yes, nobody is at fault except Spencer. It was him who promised to keep you and your baby safe. But he was nowhere to be found on the day you actually needed him. He was the one who caused all of this. Your brain, filled with grief couldn't decipher what it was thinking or where your thoughts are taking you. You knew only one thing for sure, you wanted to hurt someone. You wanted him to hurt.

"Spencer you killed her. You killed my baby." Your voice was barely a whisper, you almost thought he didn't hear you. But the way his eyes dulled and filled with guilt showed you that he did hear it.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, baby." He said, he sounded wracked with guilt. He started sobbing.

That was the first time in a few days you felt some kind of sick relief. A part of you ached at seeing him like that. But the sick satisfaction over took every other feeling.

"Spencer, I'm going to hurt you until I can find peace. I promise, and I don't break them like you do." Your voice was filled with vitriol. Spencer never even imagined that you could look at him with such hatred in your eyes, but he was proved wrong today.

He knew he was going to be blamed for everything. And he blamed himself too. He was okay with taking everything from you, because he knew behind all that hatred and vitriol, there was love. So he was willing to be your punching bag for however long you want him to be.

You realized that Spencer was going to accept it. And you knew you were just getting started. Maybe this will end up hurting you both, but you felt like that's what the two of you deserved in the end. For failing to save her. Your Sydney.

_______________________________________

a/n: Not that satisfied with how this turned out, wanted to write fluff but it turned out into angst 😭😭. anyways i'm thinking of writing a fluff series next and maybe an angst one too. deleted one on my old blog, want to restart it.