#i wasn't really sure what verse this would be in

[callmeizukunotdeku]

I love the idea of parentified Tim Drake.

Bruce loses Jason and isn't ready for another son. Tim sees this, he acknowledges this, and he's okay with it. He's never really been a son to his own parents so he wouldn't expect the neighbor to start taking care of him.

When Tim's parents come home, they're not mean or anything, they just don't baby him. They treat him as an equal--as someone who knows what he's doing--and that's fine, because he does.

He's been taking care of himself for as long as he could remember, so when people try to treat him like a child, it angers him more than anything. The way that they assume just because he's young he can't take care of himself.

Tim's been to galas before, though. He's talked with Bruce and the man never treated him like he was incompetent. Tim's parents would ask Tim questions about the company so that he could recite them to Bruce. It was a song and dance he was well versed in, but he didn't really mind, not when Bruce looked at him with such a fondness in his eyes, always saying, "That's really interesting. You know a lot about your parents' company. Did it take you a while to memorize it?"

And he'd shake his head and say, "No," because that was the correct response, even if it was wrong.

Even if he had flashcards about Drake industries and kept up to date with perception of the company and the stock value and who the shareholders were and what they wanted and what they were willing to do to get that.

It wasn't one bout of work. It wasn't a single night of studying to make sure he passed the test, but a lifetime memorizing information and then rememorizing it when it changed.

So when Jason died and Bruce started getting bad, Tim knew what to do.

He was used to long term projects where it would be years before he actually got to see any result. He was used to seeing adults as people who he was responsible for, though he had to admit that the responsibility had never been that big before.

When Tim showed up at Bruce's doorstep, he was young, just like both of Bruce's other sons, but his eyes lacked that sort of naïveté and childlike wonder that should have accompanied the baby fat which persisted on his cheeks.

That's what made Alfred pause at the door.

There was a kid. A black haired, blue eyed kid. He was young, like both of Bruce's sons. His lack of naïveté was something he shared with both children, only Dick's had been a fresh sort of loss, one he was still mourning, and Jason's naïveté was something long-forgotten and left to rot. It was a feeling you smelt when you left the windows closed for too long.

Still there, still somewhere, but not quite right and never able to be found, only stumbled upon in rare moments of something that could almost be called joy.

Tim's naïveté is something he left at home. He keeps it on a shelf in his bedroom, something to look at when the going gets rough, but something too fragile to be held.

Maybe that's why Alfred lets him in.

That day, Tim meets Bruce--not Brucie or Batman, just Bruce.

He meets a man who's hair's grown long, but not long enough for it to have been intentional. There's grease in his hair and bags under his eyes and you can tell that he's been biting his nails.

He's clean shaven, because that's what people can see when he wears the cowl.

Tim takes a deep breath before walking into the room.

Bruce doesn't move, but Tim doesn't doubt that the man notices him.

The room smells like alcohol--a smell he recognizes from when his own father is home, though he can't say he's ever remembered it smelling so concentrated.

"Hello," he says, when he's right in front of Bruce, "My name is Tim, and I'm here to help."

Bruce doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to.

Tim talks to him, slowly distracting the man as he brings him to the bathroom, first trying to put a toothbrush in his hand and then, when that doesn't work, brushing the man's teeth himself.

Tim draws a bath for him and grabs him a new pair of clothes, and tells him to take his bath, only leaving the room when Bruce finally stands up and starts undressing.

Tim takes care of the sheets, puts new ones on the bed, and goes to the kitchen, to find Alfred already making food.

The butler asks him if he's staying to eat but Tim just insists that he's not hungry and brings the food up to Bruce.

He knocks on the bathroom door, and when Bruce doesn't respond, he opens it.

Bruce is sitting in the bath, knees to his chest, crying, but not otherwise moving.

So Tim rolls up his sleeves and washes Bruce's hair, then keeps him company as Bruce washes himself.

Bruce finds it easier to get things done when there's someone else in the room--talking to him, giving him something else to think about.

Tim talks as he gets Bruce out of the bath and hand him a towel. He talks as Bruce dries himself off and gets dressed. He talks as Bruce eats the lunch that Alfred made him and he talks until he gets Bruce back to bed.

He leaves, voice hoarse from talking so much after living in an empty home.

He comes back the next day and does it all again.

Alfred doesn't know what he should do. He knows, of course, that Tim is young and shouldn't be taking care of someone at that age.

He also knows that Bruce is in no state to take care of himself and all of Alfred's attempts have been in vain.

Tim's talking was what got Bruce to eat his first actual meal in a week--not just popcorn and protein bars. Tim's presence is what got Bruce to bed.

Tim was what was making things better, so while Alfred knew he should put a stop to it, he couldn't quite make himself do so.

Instead, he started doing little things.

He invited Tim to stay for meals.

Invited Tim to stay the night.

It took a while, but eventually, Tim started living in the manor.

One month, there's only ghosts in the house, the next, three beating hearts.

One month, Bruce can only think of his son, the next, he's calling Tim his dad.

One day, Bruce crosses the line as Batman, and the next day, he has a Robin.

You know how things go from there, some things are lost, others are gained. Some things stay the same, others do nothing but change.

Bruce and Tim get better, but Bruce still thinks of Tim as his dad.

No one really pays it much heed, though. That's just how they are--nothing really to note.

It's Dick, though, who starts noticing something's off, because Tim never sleeps.

When Dick was first adopted, he had nightmares.

He'd remember what it was like to watch someone fall. He did not watch it from the ground, but from the balcony, holding onto a trapeze, moments away from completing his own jump.

It took him months to finally come to Bruce, tell him about his nightmares.

Though he was never told the details, he knew it was the same for Jason. He pushed Bruce away, insisted that he'd be fine on his own, but eventually started letting him in.

He never asked, but assumed it was the same for Tim. When Tim couldn't sleep, when he had nightmares, when he couldn't stand to sleep in an empty bed, he'd go to Bruce like the rest of them did.

It was a reasonable thing to assume, and it was a belief he only questioned when he got up in the middle of the night to get water.

That same night, Bruce had a nightmare. Bruce knocked on Tim's door. Bruce slept in Tim's bed.

Tim ran his hands through Bruce's hair, promising that everything would be okay until Bruce fell asleep.

Now that he knew to look for it, Dick started noticing even more. The way Tim knew Bruce's favorite food and the way Tim took care of the man's company so that Bruce had the freedom to do what he wanted. The way Bruce turned to Tim when he had a problem or wanted to be told he did something well.

It was wrong.

It was wrong and Dick was trapped because he hadn't noticed it earlier. Why didn't he notice it earlier?

Tim came to him first, asked him to become Robin again. Dick knew about Tim from the start. Dick was there for the entirety of his stay as Robin.

He was there.

So why didn't he noticed?

Jason sees him panicking on patrol and Dick just breaks.

He breaks down in his brother's arms--arms he can feel tightening around him as he tells him everything.

They talk about it a lot after that. Jason starts noticing things too.

They bring in Babs and start making a file--compiling evidence because there's always the urge to just ignore it. To acknowledge that Bruce is doing better than ever.

But that requires them to forget about Tim.

To let the boy take care of Bruce and not live his own life.

Because, now that they're looking, they can see how lonely it is.

How he doesn't have any school friends--he had to drop out to take over WE.

How he's grown apart from Young Justice--always leaving when Bruce is in trouble or needs someone to talk to, not able to bear the idea of what Bruce might do if left alone.

Because Tim knows he'll break.

Bruce needs someone to take care of him, and Tim exists to fulfill the needs of others, regardless of how much it takes from him.

So Tim goes and helps his son. He never talks about how tired he is. He has sleeping pills to fix that, and maybe he can't take them because what if Bruce has a nightmare and then he can't wake up Tim--it's unimaginable.

Dick and Jason notice, though, and they try to bring it up with him, but they're not sure how.

Not when Tim's gut reaction is just to start taking care of them, too. Easing their worries, telling them that everything's okay.

They want so bad to insist that it's not okay, that this is going to ruin Tim and he can't spend his whole life like this.

But they want even more to be held. To be granted that unconditional love and care that comes with being Tim's child.

So they try to say something--anything.

But then, Tim smiles. He opens his arms to them and asks about their days.

And they they try to tell him that not everything's okay, but Tim is smiling, and they try, but they can't say a thing.

[thewholecrew]

@headstrongblake: kassy & nick. / verse: all american.

     dark eyes narrowed at his scoff as her lips tugged into a small but fond smile. "i guess i do," she replied in soft amusement. their relationships with octavia were different, she and o were best friends and had a level of mutual trust and respect for one another she didn't quite think nick had with o. they had far more of a sibling rivallry vibe, to push and prod and annoy each other as much as they could so she didn't blame him for thinking that her best friend wouldn't drop it. and while kassy knew it would be something octavia wouldn't want to do, nor enjoy doing, she did trust that if she asked octavia to respect her and nick's privacy for kassy's sake she would.

     at his mutter about her being better than most she rolled her eyes. it wasn't as if she wasn't nosy, as if she didn't want to know about things and stories, etc, about people, she just wished to hear it from them because they want to tell her rather than her demanding it -- most of the time. she wasn't perfect, and if octavia was hiding something from her like this, it would devastate her. not the lying, though kassy truly hated lying and being lied to, but that she couldn't be there for her best friend as much as she'd have needed, or perhaps wanted.

     she pressed her lips together, brows furrowing softly at that thought, at though she trusted octavia not to push, that she would want to, or that she would feel.... less than she should. a heavy sigh escaped her as she too curled a little forward in defeat, looking down at her phone with a troubled expression. her gaze slid to their hands as he squeezed hers gently in his, frown softening before she took her hand back into her lap. kassy didn't want to think about what grant was doing at this moment and didn't really think it was a good idea for nick to as well but she said nothing about it, it was his decision.

     there was a split second where his offer to talk to octavia instead of her sounded tempting, she truly didn't want to lie to her best friend but she had to make this call. she had a feeling it would get out of hand if nick took it, the two would begin bickering and she wasn't sure just how stable nick was in this moment not to blow up at o. "find us that drink, will you please," she decided with a tired smile that didn't quite touch the trouble in her chocolate eyes. "i've got this," she added before taking a deep breath and dialling octavia's number, bringing her phone to her ear. "hey o, i'm alright---we're alright," she began immediately, knowing that was the first thing her best friend wanted to hear.

@thewholecrew: kassy & nick || all american universe.

meticulously, nick watched kassy shift to take the clippers in her hand, ruining the work she had just done. a few hours ago, the life nick had crafted here for himself in the city had been perfectly intact. he’d been on his way to the christmas octavia insisted on having with her friends every year. kassy had been chattering about her snowman design on her fingernails, how long it had taken her to choose this design. it was downright mundane, and now…nick shuddered, eyes closing briefly while he listened to the sound of the clippers. the night had taken a devastatingly bloody turn that unintentionally brought kassy into his darkness. a place he never wished her to be.

his eyes opened as kassy finished her nails, sipping on the water he retrieved before reassuring him that he wouldn’t need to disclose more than he wished. "boy, you got a lot more faith in that girl than i do,” nick scoffed softly with a shake of his head, wondering when octavia’s ever been known to drop something. maybe kass was right about only needing to offer minuscule details to any of them, but he was far more hesitant due to his experience with her best friend. dark hues softened, however, noticing how badly kassy felt about hurting octavia by not showing tonight, which allowed him to drop the topic entirely. after all, she was in this mess because of him.

his shoulders rounded forward with a bit of defeat as nick leaned his elbow against his leg. “you’re a better person than most,” nick told her genuinely, his brows furrowing together as kassy reached for him, gently taking his hand as she looked up at him. still, he doesn’t understand why she isn’t terrified of him. why she hasn’t demanded someone get her home, and far away from him by now, but he holds tightly to how softly she looks at him. she still reaches for him when she should be running in the other direction because he might’ve saved her tonight. might’ve helped her. but he still came from the one monster she was scared of. still was crafted by him. he doesn’t understand her, but he doesn’t pull away either. instead, he slowly nodded. “yeah…guess so, we’re in agreement,” he finally voiced, “we were gonna drag grants ass to the party, got held up instead…” he nodded once more, repeating her as he gently gave kassy’s hand a squeeze before he let go.

“i got it, don’t worry, i was gonna call grant here in a minute, check on him…” he murmured as he stood from the couch. once the shock faded enough to snap him into himself, nick’s been itching for an update from grant. to know where he’d taken his father. where the grave would be and if…if anything would be left of him. even though he trusted grant to handle this situation, nick hated that he put either of them in this position. now was the time to get his head back in the game. to cover all their asses because he’d let his monster out. “i’ve got a few things to do downstairs, could also find us that drink,” nick offered lightheartedly with a smirk that appeared more like a grimace than anything. nick extended his hand toward kassy, “you want me to call o? cause i will…you don’t gotta lie to her tonight, you’ve done enough kass,” he offered sincerely. he could be the bad guy if she wanted.

[softersinned]

@koschyei said: ❛ You know, this is an interesting and efficient method of murder. I need to write this down. ❜

The smile on her lips doesn't meet her eyes, and she tries to ignore the churning in her gut; she knows better by now than to trust anyone, let alone another politician, but she wants to, and badly. She can feel it in him, some sort of power that is at once old and incomprehensible to her, and there is a part of her that wants to sit at his feet and learn, and another part of her, a greater, a louder part of her, that wishes there were some way to sink her fingers into his chest and rip it out of him to keep for herself.

She has been powerless before and has learned to survive, even to thrive, in spite of it, but it did nothing to dull her hunger. She imagines power sometimes like an organ and she imagines what it would feel like to tear the power from another person and swallow it hole, blood staining her teeth, magic burning her tongue. She is a creature of want above all else. She always has been.

"I'm afraid I'm little help to you when it comes to the Anchor's power." Not technically a lie, but certainly not the truth. Astoria's left hand pulses a gentle, glowing green, and she thinks, not for the first time, that her blood sounds different now that it's been infected by the Fade.

But it was not the Anchor's power, this time; it was her own, and a power she understands plenty well. One need not tamper with the blood as a whole when one can tamper with the things that make it, and there is plenty of water in blood. To manipulate. To move. To boil. Not technically blood magic, but she knows enough by now of the chantry to trust that not technically blood magic is hardly a solid defense. She takes in a deep breath and immediately regrets it as the euphoria of battle fades and she feels the sudden and sharp pain in her chest that means her ribs have broken again.

The dead men at her feet steams like cooked meat, their skin reddened and bursting from the heat that had poured out of her and into them. Around them, the snow has melted enough to reveal the hard, barren ground beneath it. Had she known Koschei was near, she would have been more cautious, but the Venatori had caught her by surprise. Astoria tucks her hands into her sleeves and shrugs apologetically.

"If I knew better how it worked, I would use it better. Unfortunately, much of Solas' research into rifts is beyond me. I never received a formal training in magic and I'm afraid the theory seems rather muddy compared to what I learned at the augur's knee." She raises her eyebrows, retracts her left hand and holds it out to him, palm up, as if in invitation. (In challenge.) "Though if there's knowledge in Buyan that has yet to cross the Wilds, that could guide me, surely you would know it...?"

[ruinedbycatastrophe]

@ashesbloodstardust for a random starter bc i love you

"---- Iggy." His voice is soft and low. Not holding the cocky, or piss off tone to it that it normally does. The Shield lips are a tight, thin line and his posture is unusually caving in. Curling up. Those amber hues seem to never leave the Advisor's face, tracing all the lines, the scars, the shape of his mouth. . . "Talk to me." He begs, doesn't ask, he begs. Because Gladio is a frenzy, he knows that but Ignis is his rock. If Ignis breaks, it's serious. And the weight that he holds is just as heavy as Gladio's. But Gladio can afford to snap and yell. Ignis can't. "Tell me what's going on?"

[thehollowwriter]

I'm ngl, I think the Spider Verse movies are the best depictions of Spider-man. They embody the very concept of Spider-man perfectly, and I believe this because of the explosive fandom reaction to them, especially the sequel.

So many people from so many backgrounds all over the world started making their own "spider sonas", their own ideas of a spider person. Sure you can just say it's a trend, but people are still doing it now. I've seen disabled Spideys, queer Spideys, Spideys from any country you can think of, Spideys with vastly different designs, aesthetics and personalities, Spideys who are deeply rooted in the creator's culture, yet who are all unquestionably Spidey.

Never before has the message of "anyone can wear the mask" been so true, and never before have so many people believed it.

People saw themselves represented on screen whether it be through the mc or side characters, they saw the limitless potential of so many different dimensions and universes, they saw Miles reject the "canon" and the idea of what Spider-man "has to" be (which is quite clearly at least partially inspired by egotistical and bigoted Spider-Man "fans" who believed there was only one Spider-man and only one way his character could be depicted and only one way his story should be told) and they understood that yes, they were included in the phrase "Anyone can wear the mask"

Spider-man was always such a successful character who everyone wanted to see for a reason. He isn't the same as many other heroes who were all adults and seemed to be in a place most viewers couldn't dream of seeing (rich, a god, a super soldier, etc).

Peter Parker starts out as just some guy, an everyday middle or lower class person who does everyday things like go to school or miss the bus or get fired. Peter was no smooth and classy ladies man, he wasn't a sports star or anything. He was an awkward and shy guy who liked "nerd" stuff.

He, in the words of MJ, "just happened to get bit." It was an accident, a spider bite. He wasn't in the military or creating a powerful suit or anything. He's some guy who got powers and decided to use them to protect people. Just your friendly neighbourhood Spider-man.

Most importantly, he was the first superhero of his kind. Before Spidey, there was no "teenage superhero." There were only adult superheroes, and teenagers only appeared as sidekicks. When Stan Lee suggested a teenage superhero, he was told it was a terrible idea, and nobody would want to see that.

Well, I'm sure all of us in 2024 where the Spider-man IP is worth over $27 billion with ten movies starring Spidey as the mc, and several more where he makes an appearance as a side character, and where Spider-Man: Across the Spider Verse set several box office records and was the sixth highest grossing film of 2023, can see how wrong that was.

Since his conception, Spider-man was a character who defied how things "should be" and took that leap of faith, and it led to greatness. Just like Miles' entire story of becoming Spider-man being completely different from what we've seen so many times before. Just like Miles defying Miguel and carving his own path, even with the threat of "breaking the canon" (which I personally think can be interpreted as a representation of the idea some people have that if you make Spidey "too different", you'll destroy him as a character)

Together, the two Spider Verse movies managed to prove that yes, anyone can wear the mask. You don't need the "right" skin colour or gender or backstory or plot points. Those are not what makes Spider-man who he is, and those are not why people fell in love with his character and concept.

What made Spider-man who he was, was his actions, his compassion, his relatatability, and how he inspired people. He's a hero whose entire appearance is covered by his suit, and yet is not doubted as a hero by those who were saved (plots where the writers want to make him suffer more exluded/hj).

So yeah. I really love the Spider Verse movies. Not just for their animation, music, story, and voice acting, but also for how they managed to embody and challenge the idea of Spider-man and potrayed just why Spidey was so loved.

(I mainly focused on Miles in this lil rant because he's the mc, but if ya'll want to discuss other characters like Gwen please comment or reblog with your thoughts, I'd love to hear them!)

[sweatyracoon]

How Skz Reacts to your Anxious Ticks

A/n: I have a lot of anxious energy, and many ticks, so why not do a Skz react? Should I do more Skz reacts?

Warnings: Lots of anxiety, blood (not a lot), pet names(baby), talk about getting sick, stress eating, implied panic attacks

Bangchan: Foot tapping

You would be sitting with the guys in the changing room before a concert. Even though you wouldn't be going anywhere near the stage, you were a nervous reck.

Your worries started when Chan slipped on stage, faceplanting right before his verse, triggering something in you. Ever since then, you always worried.

There was a small ambiance, the staff and group members talking, offering a noise buffer, but it wasn't enough.

You didn't realize your foot was tapping until you caught Chan's stare. He looked between you and your foot, motioning for you to calm down.

All you could do was pause your movements until his attention drifted to Hyunjin.

You kept tapping.

It wasn't long before Chan made his way to you, ten minutes before the show.

"Y/n. You're doing it again," He told you with a smile.

"I can't help it, Channie," you responded, looking at him. "What if you fall again?"

He looked surprised. "Y/n, that was two years ago," he said softly, sitting next to you.

"So? It could happen again," You were being stubborn. It wasn't like you.

"How about I promise you that I won't fall," he reached out with his pinky, waiting for you to take it in your own.

"But you don't know that," you whined, making him smile.

"Okay, okay. Fine. How about...I promise to be careful?" Now he was just trying to make you happy.

And it worked.

You nodded, slotting your pinky into his, sealing the deal. He ruffled you hair before saying a quick good luck, and left to the stage.

Lee Know: Finger nail biting

You hadn't known the boys long, but you all were incredibly close. Bangchan being your brother, he invited you with him everywhere.

You were particularly fond of Lee know, but he seemed indifferent. He cared about you, but he was expressionless all the same.

He had started picking up on random habits you began to aquire, one of them bring fingernail biting.

It wasn't safe, nor was it healthy, so anytime be caught you biting a nail, he was there, a scolding ready.

Or at least, that was his plan. But when he came up next to you, ready to interfere, you would look up at him, pausing your mission, your finger still in your mouth. His heart nearly stopped.

Instead of saying anything, he would gently remove your fingers by grasping your wrist slightly, moving it your side.

He would do this whenever he had to.

Cooking? He would stop everything, washing his hands before and after touching you. Who care about the food?

If he's doing an interview and sees you chewing behind the camera? He'll find a moment he isn't needed just to halt your habit.

If he isn't anywhere near you, but Felix snitched through text? He would call you just to make sure you weren't really biting your nails.

"Are you biting, y/n?"

"No..."

"I'm checking your nails tomorrow. You better not be lying, jagi,"

Instead of punishing you, however, when he sees your shortened nails, all he does is look at you, your hand still in his.

"You got to stop, jagi," he whispers, massaging your hand.

"I'm sorry, Lee know. It's just hard,"

"I know, baby,"

Changbin: Stress eating

You were a known eater in the group along side Changbin and Bangchan. The three of you? Eatracha(lol).

But when Changbin noticed you eating twice as much, he assumed it was stress. You looked sad while you ate, which was new.

He took it upon himself to eat with you, the same amount, and he felt sick. But he didn't want you to feel alone.

It was when you started to physically get sick that he decided to intervene.

"Y/n? Maybe you should stop..." he told you, rubbing your shoulders.

In tears, you said, "But I can't, Bin. I've tried. It's like my body needs me to eat, but it can't take that much," you sniffled, leaning into his touch.

"Oh, honey. It's okay. We can just lower your portion slowly. That way, you can get used to eating less, but at a healthy pace, okay? Sound good?" He asked, moving up to your neck.

Feeling the pleasure from his rubs made your head loll back.

"Yeah..."

Hyunjin: Finger tapping

He thought it was cute at first. You tapping the table gently, hearing the soft thuds of your dull fingers. You had just cut your nails, so it didn’t seem so bad. In fact, it gave him ideas for music, not that you would notice. Hearing the same beat you had recently tapped yourself, you weren’t focused on it.

A few days went by, and you were still doing it. If your hands weren’t busy, tap. Tap. Tap. Hyunjin wasn’t the only one that noticed. Bangchan and Changbin both noticed as well, and Jeonjin later. They all told you what was going on, but you just played it off as a habit from childhood, despite them knowing you for years and not once had you had this issue.

As your nails grew, so did the tune of the taps. They seemed more aggressive, more painful. You hit the table harder.

One of your nails broke, causing your finger to bleed. You didn’t notice. You kept tapping.

It was just you and Han in the room. He was on his phone, distracted. He became used to the tapping. It didn’t bother him. You stared at the wall, still moving your fingers through the bloody table, while Hyunjin walked in.

A small gasp, and rushed footsteps caught your attention.

“Hyunjin? What’s wrong?” You asked, oblivious.

“Y/n! Your hands!” He was struggling to sit still at the sight of your blood smeared on the table. You finally stopped tapping, at least.

“Oh…” Was all you could say before you heard a scuttling in one of the drawers. It was Han. He had finally noticed, grabbing some bandages. “I didn’t..I wasn’t…”

“What the hell, y/n? Do you not notice what you’re doing?” Hyunjin muttered, grabbing the bandages from Han, moving towards your hand. He gently pulled your hands towards his own, quickly wrapping it to stop the bleeding.

“Han?” Hyunjin said, but Han only nodded. You watched as we went to go get disinfectant and towels to clean up the table. “Y/n? Look at me,”

You did, embarrassed that this happened in front of him. “I’m sorry,” you started tearing up, your shoulders shaking. You were so anxious, but you had no idea why.

His gaze softened, pulling you into a hug.

“I’m here,”

Han: Hair twirling

You hair want too long, so it didn’t really get in the way. But you liked hair, even your own. After touching Hans for the first time a few months ago, you were hooked. But you knew you couldn’t bother him all the time just to mess with his hair, so you started playing with your own. It wasn’t the same, but it was different, in a good way.

Every day, the boys would eye your hands in your hair, and they never questioned it. They thought it was a girl thing. Right?

Three months later, you were anxious. Immediately, your hands went to your hair. Whenever you were upset? Hair. It was so comforting. Even when you were angry. Scared? Cover your face with your hair, and mess with the dead ends. It cured everything.

Han tripped and fell one day right in front of you, and it scared you. It was so sudden. You knew he was clumsy, but the way he squealed reached your ears at full volume. It was too much.

You jumped back a little, bringing both of your hands to pull your hair in front of your eyes, using your thumb to mess with the tips.

“Jisung? You okay?” You asked from behind your makeshift shield.

“Yeah…? Are you?” You heard him giggle, patting himself down. He shouldn’t be too dirty, we were only in the kitchen, after all.

“Yeah…” you responded. You dropped your curtain, but kept your hand in your hair, twirling it quickly.

Han noticed this and his smile slowly dropped, replaying every moment similar to this one. And one thing was the same in each. Your hair. He was always confused on what started it, but it didn’t seem to harm you, so he was fine with it. But now, he wanted to know.

“Why are your hands always in your hair?” He finally asked, not really meaning to.

“Oh? I just like the way it feels. It’s soothing, I guess,” you responded, shrugging your shoulders.

He got an idea, one that will hopefully change your habit. “Wanna feel mine?” He raised a brow, sending a smile to you.

Your eyes brightened, making his heart flutter. “Really?” You asked, both of your hands now free from the prison that is your hair.

Han nodded.

You both ended up on the couch, his head in your lap as you played with his hair, massaging his scalp.

“I need this to last forever,” Han whispered as you rubbed a sore spot on his lower neck.

“Isn’t forever a long time?” You giggled. However, your heart dropped at his next words.

“Perhaps it isn’t long enough,”

Felix: Lip biting

It started really quick into the friendship. They wanted you with them for every show, and every event. That’s how close you were. But the random photos from strangers and invading fans were just too much. Your privacy was no longer private, and it worried you. It started to affect your sleeping, your eating, and your patience.

You became extremely anxious, which didn’t go unnoticed by the guys. They were always trying to comfort you with something, but it never seemed to last. But you smiled, not wanting to worry them.

The lip biting started at night. You couldn’t sleep, and was bored. You didn’t touch your phone, not wanting to see what people say about you and your friends. It was an accident at first. You bit your lip, wincing at the sudden pain. But then your teeth grazed them again, catching on dry skin. It was annoying you, so you just bit it. And kept going.

You stopped drinking as much water just so your lips could dry out, wanting to bite them again.

While in the dance room with the boys, you were biting, starting off gently. You didn’t want to bleed in front of the boys. They weren’t dancing, but just hanging out. They had to shoot an m/v later in the day, so they wanted to relax.

Bite. Seungmin was messing with Jeonjin, making him form a fist. Bite. Chan was talking to Lee know about the choreo. Bite. Han, Changbin and Hyunjin were sitting in a circle, playing a game. Bite. Wait…

You felt something warm slide down your chin. Then you smelt it. Blood.

“Y/n? Oh my god!” You were grateful Felix whispered, not catching anyone’s attention.

He stood quickly, grabbing your hand and taking you to the restroom. He walked into the girls bathroom without a care in the world, which would have made you giggle if it weren’t for this situation.

“Are you okay? Is the cut deep? What happened?” He ran the water, grabbed a paper towel, wet it, and brought it to your lip.

“Mm ‘Kay,” you muffled, the towel hindering your speech. You saw the ghost of a smile form on his own, making you feel better.

When he moved the now red towel, the bleeding had slowed, making you lick them every so often. You looked at Felix and his sad expression.

“It was an accident. I promise. It won’t happen again,” you promised.

“You sure?”you nodded.

After seeing his worry, and how he took care of you, you knew you would never bite your lip again.

Seungmin: Finger popping

Seungmin popped his knuckles, so why did he feel yours was unnecessary and annoying? Were you copying him? Or mocking him? He didn’t know. But when he walked into Hans room, he didn’t expect to see you on the floor, desperately trying to pop your back.

When you felt the need to pop a bone, doesn’t matter which one, you must pop it quickly, or else you start to get anxious. This was one of those moments. You had popped your elbows, your knees, fingers and neck. Lastly was your back, but you couldn’t get this part. It was too low, so turning on the ground wouldn’t work. And neither was pushing your weight down from a higher surface. You were starting to panic.

“Y/n? What are you doing?” You ignored his words, desperately trying to relieve your growing stress.

“Y/n?” He said a bit louder, seeing you glance at him as you started breathing heavier. “Hey! Hey? What the matter?” Now he was starting to worry.

“My back..”

He looked you up and down before asking, “Does it hurt?” He went to place his hand where you were holding, applying soft pressure.

“No. Needs to pop,” You whimpered, making his eyes widen.

“What?” He went to remove his hand, but you stopped him.

“Could you pop it please? I don’t like it,” You pleaded with him.

You two weren’t close, so seeing this side from you shocked him. Still, the sound of your uncomfortable plead was enough to break him.

“Okay. Show me where,” you did, waiting for him to apply pressure. “Ready?” You nodded, and gasped when he pushed down. The loud pop echoed through the room, making him flinch, pulling his arm from you.

Sitting for a moment to feel the relief, you then turned to him. Your eyes shined and you had a soft smile.

“Thanks, Seungmin. I really appreciate it,”

His heart felt like it would burst. He didn’t know what exactly he was feeling, but he knew that if you ever needed him to pop something, he’d be there. So that’s exactly what he said, making you feel the same way.

“Thank you, Minnie,”

“Your welcome, y/n,”

Jeonjin: Rapid blinking

You were a fan in the audience, not jumping like the rest, but paying the same amount of attention. You were an introvert, no doubt, and didn’t show excitement despite feeling it very much. You had a front row ticket, and was right in front of the eight boys you came to love. Your bias, Jeonjin, was right in front of you, singing his part for ‘I Lose my Breath’, literally making you lose yours.

You started blinking, thinking it was the fog machines effecting you, but it was something else. You didn’t know what until it was too late. The crowd pushing behind you, you felt pressure building inside your chest. No one was touching you, thank god, but you felt the presence of the fans. It was suffocating.

You fell into a blinking fit, unable to keep them open, and unable to keep them closed. This had never happened before, but you weren’t surprised. It was a tic. It would take a while to stop it. So, as to not disturb anyone next to you, you tilted your head, looking at your shoes, or at least, trying to.

You kept blinking, not fighting it, knowing it will make it worse. It started to slow when you felt a tap on your shoulder. It came from in front of you. A security guard? You slowly looked back up, your vision fighting the bright lights. Then you stopped breathing.

Jeonjin?

He was standing in front of you with a worried expression. On stage, it was now dance break, meaning he didn’t need to sing. He was making sure you were okay.

Since he saw you, he felt a pull from that stage, making him linger near your area. He saw that you didn’t even have your phone out like the rest, not jumping or anything. Just swaying lightly on your feet while smiling every time he looked at you. You were a calm in the storm. He liked that. And when he saw you staring at the floor for fifteen minutes, he got worried. Did you not like the show? Did he do something wrong? Did his pants rip?

But when he got to you, he noticed your eyes were watery. He didn’t know why, and didn’t need to either. He motioned for your phone from your front pocket, and you slowly gave it to him, thinking he was going to take a selfie, instead, he was typing. Why? You didn’t know. He came close to your ear after giving it back, and said,

“After the show. Don’t look until then,” was all he said before winking, and walking back to his members.

You stood there confused, but focused on the rest of the show.

After you made it to your hotel after thee show, you checked your phone, wondering what he could have possibly left you. Everything looked normal. You were confused. But when you opened your messages, you saw his name as one of the contacts. What?

You opened it, seeing he already texted himself. You gasped, not sure what to make of it. You slowly typed out something, but didn’t send it, unsure if this was real. Thirty minutes later, you saw his bubbles. He’s texting you?!

“You going to send it or just let it sit?”

[reiderwriter]

🕯 Ring of Fire 🕯

Pairing: sub!Spencer Reid x dom!Female reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge (sort of lol)

Requested: could you do glasses sub!spencer realizing he has a wax play kink? yk maybe reader accidentally spills her wax melt off her desk at work and it goes on to spencer making him realize he’s into it so the next day he picks up sex wax and he asks her to do it when they get home?

Warnings: BDSM themes, standard case details mentioned, temperature play, wax play, dry humping, thigh riding, hand job, penetrative sex (p in v), overstimulation, implied cream pie, choking, mentions of rope play, sub!Spencer and dom!reader, dumbification/bimbofication.

A/N: This one was just for fun. I literally already crossed off the free space. This is just for shits and giggles. Well. Enjoy?

Masterlist || Bingo Board

“So you're telling me our vic was turned into a candle?” Morgan mused from the corner of the room, frowning down at the new body in front of him. Or at least where the body had been a half hour ago, the only sign remaining being the errant drops of wax strewn about the bed and the caution tape closing your entire crew into the room. 

“Not exactly,” Emily said from the other corner, pulling up a pair of fluffy handcuffs with a pen from her jacket and dropping it into the evidence bag JJ held out to her. 

“So a kinky candle, got it,” you smiled, looking over at the other goodies Emily had uncovered. 

“Morgan, those candles, can you check what kind of wax they are?” Spencer said from the corner, looking up with that look on his face. Half curious, half flipping through the deck of index cards he had stored in the filing cabinet of his brain, looking for the right piece of information. He pushed his glasses up his nose and stared intently over at Morgan, waiting for his answer.

“It says they're organic beeswax candles.”

“There's also some soy candles stored here in the closer, Spencer,” JJ pointed out, waiting, as you all were, for his brain to click the right information into place. 

“The victim seems obviously well versed in BDSM. He seems to be a seasoned submissive, but…” 

“But what?” You asked, trying to distract yourself from the excitement the words submissive coming from Spencer created in you. 

“The melting point of beeswax is 143-149° Fahrenheit. It's unsafe for temperature play, and it would have caused intense pain if not second or third-degree burns on his body. That's why he has the soy candles. Their melting point is as low as 114°. Those are the candles he was expecting.”

The shared looks around the room said that you were all contemplating the implications of his rambling. 

“So that candle isn't part of his collection, but something the unsub bought himself,” Hotch concluded for the team. “Good work, Spencer.”

The room cleared quickly after that, with each team member assigned different roles and tasks to keep the momentum going until it was just you and Spencer left, searching for anything else that could be helpful. He had a keen eye, and you… well, you were great at directing him. 

“That was clever,” you said, pulling on your rubber gloves and getting to work rooting through the kink closet. “With the wax.”

“Thanks,” he said, and something aching and feminine crushed through you as you noted the small stammer in his voice, the hesitant blush on his cheeks.

“You have such a lot of knowledge up there,” you said, tapping your forehead, so he could get the full picture, making sure you had his attention before you dropped to your knees and started your searching. 

“Hmm?” He said, and you knew he wasn't listening anymore. His eyes had glazed over behind those glasses, and even the glare in them couldn't hide that his gaze was entirely on you.

Spencer had always been sharp as a whistle, thinking too much for his own good. Until you had crawled into his bed that first time and convinced him that giving up thinking altogether really was for the best. 

Since then, it really hadn't been all that hard to convince him to turn it off and release that stress. 

“You know a lot about wax, is all,” you said, shrugging him off with a bored look and not bothering to look back at him. You knew that you'd just see a man desperate for your attention staring back at you anyway. 

“It seems like you had experience.”

“Ah, um, no, ahem,” he squeaked, clearing his throat quickly. “No…experience, I just... read about it once?” He was so nervous, he seemed suddenly so unsure of himself.

You finally smiled up at him from your place on the floor, watching him move around trinkets on the victims desk before looking back at you. 

“Good,” you said and stood up, confident that his eyes and thoughts wouldn't leave you now. 

“But if you ever find yourself curious, you know where I’ll be.”

You weren't expecting him to accept your invitation quickly. You'd admitted to yourself that anything remotely case related quite so soon was probably in poor taste. One case opened and closed and then another, and you'd fucked him in countless motel beds and against various walls before he mentioned it again. 

But there came a knock at your door one night, and you knew. 

“Spencer,” you said, smiling as innocently as you could, a little breathy from the quick sprint over to the front door of your apartment. 

“Hi.”

“Hello,” you said, eyes tracing down his body to the traces of fatigue scattered across his body. The shirt sleeves pushed haphazardly up to his elbows, the tie undone, the shirt crumpled. You grinned harder as you saw the bag in his hand. 

“I… I thought we could..”

You softly grabbed his tie and walked back into your apartment, pulling him along with you as he still struggled to find the right words. 

“You thought we could try something new?” You asked. He nodded.

“Is the something new in that bag?” You asked. He nodded again. 

“Is that something new going to make your big cock nice and hard for me?” You asked. He blushed a fierce red and nodded again, as you stepped forward and started stroking him over his pants. 

“You know I want to hear your voice, Spencer. You need to be a good boy or we can't play with your nice new toy.”

“Y-Yes.” He said, eyes already squeezing shut in pleasure as you pressed against him, free hand wrestling his bag from his grip. 

“On the bed. Shirt off, pants off. Leave your underwear on for now, and don't you dare start without me,” you ordered and he quickly ran to obey your orders. After all, he already knew what happened when he didn't listen nicely. 

"Oh, and Spencer?" You said as he paused in the doorway. "Keep the glasses on."

You grabbed the candle out of the bag, finding the box of matches you kept in your kitchen drawers, and stepped out of your own clothes before joining him, the red set you'd donned that day being more than sufficient for teasing him. 

“Look at you, so pathetic for me,” you giggled, as you climbed over him, straddling his thighs as you lit the candle, making sure to avoid his crotch, to avoid giving him any accidental pleasure. 

“Y/N,” he whimpered, hands strewn up above his head, tangling in the sheets. He was so very used to not being able to touch that you didn't even need to tie him up these days. 

As you ground down into his thighs, effectively riding him and pleasuring yourself, he moaned and shook beneath you, the pressure of restraining himself almost unbearable. Almost.

You knew his limits, and he knew his safe word. 

“I think it's ready, my sweet. Shall we sate your curiosity?”

“Yes, yes, please, Y/N,” he whined, as your hand finally found its way to his cock again. 

You held the candle just above his stomach and let a single drop flow out, landing on his abdomen. He twitched and arched his back up, thrusting his cock further into your hand. 

You did it again, and his moans were electric as you rubbed your pussy against him harder, needier than before. 

You covered his stomach and chest in the hot wax as he fucked your hand, your fingers pushing under his underwear to grip his cock, letting him hiss at the skin to skin contact with each spasm.

“Good boy,” you said, but your heart wasn't in it. You were too taken with him, his cute sharp face, his rounded glasses, his lips spread in a delicious moan. You were too desperate for him to truly tease him at that point. You needed your pleasure as well. 

Already soaked from his sounds and his strong thigh, you pushed your red panties to the side and dropped yourself down onto his cock. The only thing stabilizing you at that moment was the hand that had slipped to his neck, your other too busy making sure the candle was upright as you pushed up and down on him, desperate to not ruin your sheets with wax. 

They were already sure to be soaked through after this, but you'd washed cum out of them before. You weren't sure you'd be able to wash hard wax out. 

You took your pleasure in him as he continued to thrust up into you, like an animal in heat that is simply desperate for any release it can get. 

With the wax still hot, you pushed upright and let it drip on him again. 

“Fuck, Y/N…”

“How does it feel?” 

“H-hot. And good. Really good.” He winced, hands covering his face as he held back his orgasm, knowing you gave the orders.

You yourself felt hot. You felt good. And, most importantly, you felt curious. 

“S-Spencer,” you said, leaning down so your lips were practically kissing just below his ear. 

“I want you to burn me.” 

His eyes shot open, his hands racing to cup your ass cheeks as he stilled himself, forcing air in and out of his lungs. 

You put the candle on the nightstand and rolled onto your back, bringing him with you until your legs were wrapped around his waist and his head was pressed between your breasts, aa if startled by the movement and seeking comfort.  

His cock twitched inside you again and you were sure you were close. You just needed to feel him again. 

“Show me, Spencer. Show me what it was that made you so desperate to cum for me,” you whispered, pushing your hips up to meet his, urging him to move. 

Steadily, his hand reached out for the candle and he held it in his hands, moving back to a kneeling position as he got ready to use it. 

You sat yourself up on your elbows and watched as he pushed into you, one hand on your hip, and finally, agonizingly slowly, sent a single drip towards the tops of your breasts. 

“FUCK,” you screamed, grabbing his hand on your hip as you threw your head back onto the pillow. 

It was hot. It was so hot you thought for sure it'd burn right through you, but it felt good. 

You looked to the wax on your breast as he let another drip fall out and decorate the other. 

Your hips twitched, you pushed upwards and you came on his cock, whimpering and moaning just like he had done earlier.

“Good job… Good boy,” you panted as he let another drip go, never content to leave you with just a single orgasm if he himself hadn't cum yet. 

He thrust harder and harder as he put the candle down, pushing his nose into the crook of your neck and nuzzling in there. His glasses were an uncomfortable weight at your shoulder blade, but you welcomed the pain.

“Thank you,” he repeated, again and again, until you were certain it was the only thing he could remember, his hands tracing the bumps of wax over your body. 

You did the same, stroking his stomach as you grabbed his ass, pulling him closer to you. 

He came with a grunt, and you pushed him onto your back and rode out his orgasm as you chased your second, letting it crash through you moments later. 

Collapsing onto his chest, you let his hands wrap around you, pulling you in, ever as you were aware of the uncomfortable notches of hard wax decorating both of you. 

“Soy wax, right?” You asked, catching your breath. He nodded. 

“It washes off, right?” You asked. He nodded, blinking his eyes open again and staring at you quickly. 

He sealed your mouth against his ans held you tenderly there for a second before pulling you up into a sitting position, cock still warmed in your cunt. 

“We should go and find that out,” he said, shyly nodding towards your bathroom as you smiled and grinned straight back at him. 

[mnnuni]

Callsign sviper

Jake "hangman" seresin x reader

Summary: Reader's on her period and Jake comes to the rescue

Words: 1956

Genre : fluff

Warnings: none, I just fear it's uneventful (?)

Author's note: disclaimer for the title : the original callsign her mates thought about was "sniper" because she is super cool -obviously- but that would be too cool, and so would have been their second choice "viper" -even if the reason was related to her tough persona- so they combined them together; also I'm trying some new things, so be patient with me, thank you.

* dividers of @strangergraphics

* gif and images from Pinterest

It was rather strange for the pilots of the house to notice that they had to leave for training in ten minutes and there wasn't a sign of (Y/N) yet.

Fanboy went in the kitchen to check it out while Payback got to the board (Y/N) made them hang in the living room with their printed schedules; she was a really organised girl, that's why they needed her -well that and the rent, the main reason she happened to share an apartment with those two was because they needed an extra roommate to minimise their expenses and she was in need of a place to live near work. They actually liked each other though, so after the first difficulty of sharing a house they all settled pretty well together

The duo of pilot and backseater reunited in the corridor whispering, as if they weren't the only ones there, "I don't think she left early, wherever she does she leaves a note"

Payback pondered his man's phrase a little before nodding and pointing it right, "could she have forgotten?"

"tsk. She never forgets"

"right."

They were still in the corridor for at least another two minutes : two grown ass men, pilots of the American navy, froze in place because they couldn't move without their lady.

"Arg fuck it, I'm knocking"

And then another two minutes of diatribes because they were scared she was still asleep and kill them for wake her up or she could have been in company and they didn't notice. When they finally convinced themselves of the "grown man" part they knocked together -like this they were both equally responsible-

They just got a weird verse in response so they opened the door and pocked their head inside. Fanboy swore he never saw her room like this : the only light was from the half open blinds and at least five scented candles, on her desk there was her open laptop left to die -which she never did- and two mugs from the day before filled with whatever, her bed was unmade with dozens of pillows on it and a strange mass...

That's when Payback got it "Oh shit".

(Y/N)'s head emerged from the covers with bags under her eyes and messy hair "hi".

They rushed to her side "what happened?" "You okay?" "Why are you in bed still?" "What's in the mugs" and so on

She closed her eyes and breathed in, they gave her space to elaborate -they learned the hard way she needed time to express herself-

"I got my period tonight, ence why I feel like shit : it was early. I already called Mav to call in sick, tomorrow I'm all yours"

It seemed it pained her just to talk and she, in fact, changed position on the bed.

"Can we do anything for you?"

Sweet, sweet fanboy.

Payback was rubbing his hand on her back and she smiled appreciatively.

"Go to work boys, don't worry, you need training"

"You sure?"

"Positive. And bring me something sweet when you come back" they smiled and got up, "oh and don't tell anyone about this" Payback nodded and Fanboy saluted her.

They knew she didn't want to be considered weak and even if no one would have called her that they still respected her decision... That didn't stop them from texting her constantly through the day to check on her though.

(Y/N) got out of bed around two hours after her roommates left, but just because she stained her pants and needed a warm shower; then she finally put her laptop in charge and pretended to tidy up her bed -it was just a way of rearrange her pillows more comfortably-

She proceeded to vegetate on her bed for the rest of the morning, only moving to eat some cookies before she got nauseous again.

(Y/N) was unaware of the fact that at the station there was a certain Lieutenant on edge since that morning because she wasn't there and her roommates just told everyone she had a "thing" and couldn't come.

Jake really tried to not overstep or, worse, threaten the two boys and squeeze something from them but he really was glued on their tails all morning in hope of gathering anything, really; so much that they had to sneak in the bathroom to call her during their break.

Hangman was just behind the door though, ear attached to the surface.

"How you doin' sweetie?" "Feeling any better?"

Hangman was glad she had them, they were really adoring to her. He didn't understand her answer though.

The roommates were catching her up with their training when she asked something, "oh no, we can't, we have to fly out in 10" said Fanboy

"Want me to order it from here?"

She must have said no, because then Payback said he would have taken her something when they'd come back home.

When the duo got out they were faced with Hangman, hand on his hip and a determinate look on his face. He only said "what does she need?" and ten minutes later he was off with a permit.

In the meantime (Y/N) had changed forty-five position in bed and was currently debating whether to getting up to cook, order take out or starve herself untill she became maniac.

Someone opened the door and she tried to yell "heere" but just came up with a muffled-by-the-sheets grunt. The person must've understood anyway 'cause she could hear footsteps.

Hangman found her with her legs up on the wall and one of her hands stuffed in her pants on her stomach, with the other she was holding her phone. He almost chuckled.

"You good?"

She recognised that voice immediately, (Y/N) arched her neck to have a confirmation of who was standing at her door and sighed when she saw him , "I'm gonna kill those two idiots"

He really chuckled now.

"They didn't say anything, I forced them to when I overheard your phone call", (Y/N) made to move to look at him better but he stopped her "no no, you looked comfortable" and he then proceeded to step in her room until the bed; he was waiting for permission to sit on it when she nodded yes.

Hangman lifted a full bag then "I got you something, if you get up I could cook it for you"

(Y/N) narrowed her eyes "you can cook?"

"You know I can"

She knew he could, but she was in a too vulnerable position to not tease him.

"Can i wait another five minutes to get up?" she almost pleaded while moving her fingers on her stomach

"Sure, I'm gonna start and set up".

When (Y/N) got up it actually passed almost ten minutes, but Jake didn't mind : he had time to discover where things were stored and to organise his space, he was a very finicky guy. She looked at his back and how his muscles moved when he stirred something in a pan, how he looked so comfortable in her kitchen.

"What are you making?" he was turning to face her and answer her but she stopped him "no wait, let it be another surprise. Tell me though, why are you cooking for me?"

(Y/N) got her hairs up in a bun when she sat at the table in front of him and looked a little less pale just from the smell of food. Jake was almost ready to tell her how blue he was at work without her and how much he needed to see for himself that she was actually okay, but he retreated.

"Can't I do something nice for you?"

They weren't exactly the best of friends, so this phrase unsettled her a little. Still, there was always some kind of tension between them, a spark every time they teased each other -and there wasn't one day without a snark comment from the both of them-

(Y/N) just shrugged her shoulders with a little grin on her face, one he copied before continuing to work.

She spent all the time admiring him cook while he recounted her his day at work. It felt so good to be like this with him that she almost forgot her pain.

In about half an hour Jake was turning to face her again, this time with two full plates.

"I heard spaghetti with red and yellow tomatoes is your favourite"

(Y/N) was speechless: the dish smelled delicious and Jake looked so good in an apron with an hot plate in hand that she could have just smile.

They ate in a comfortable silence, occasionally sharing smiling glances. Jake was taking everything in, hoping to do something like this again.

When it was time to clean Jake offered to tidy everything up while she could relax, but (Y/N) swore that she had to help him because she couldn't take advantage of his strange generosity.

"I am always generous" she wasn't sure if he was faking or not his offence but she scoffed either way, "sure Hangman".

While he washed the dishes, she dried them so they were "equally contributing".

Finally (Y/N) offered him her couch, she dreaded to sit on it from the moment she had to stand to help Jake -even thought she didn't mind one bit staying with him in the kitchen, the back pain was coming again-

She sat with her legs curled in front of her and a pillow on her lap; Jake sat next to her, relatively close but not too close to cause her discomfort.

"A movie or a show?" , he looked at her "be honest, how many movies have you already watched today?"

She made a fake thinking expression and then sighed "one and a half", he arched his brow "what? I got bored" Jake chuckled then, "show it is. What do you wanna watch?"

The next few minutes passed with (Y/N) explaining why law and order was one of the best franchise in the world and Jake almost drooling at her enthusiasm.

Halfway through one episode he noticed she was pressing the pillow on her stomach so he got closer and asked if she wanted him to make her a hot-water-bag, "oh no, the water movements make me nauseous, I prefer pillows or my hand usually. But thank you"

"Oh"

Another two minutes passed before he found the courage to ask her another question.

"Do you want to use my hand? I um tend to run hot"

(Y/N) looked at him with wide eyes and a weird feeling in them; she was so touched by his offer, it was such a sweet and caring thing to do for someone.

"Sure" she whispered and got closer to him.

Jake didn't expect his suggestion to be accepted, but after the initial confusion he slowly approached her. He opened his arm to make her settle in his side and after he circled her with his arm, he slightly lifted her shirt and positioned his hand on her stomach. (Y/N) was trying so hard to stay still and concentrate on the TV, but it was true that Jake's touch was so warm and soft.

After she finally accepted his presence on her, (Y/N) moved his hand to where she wanted it and snuggled up in his side.

Jake was feeling so ecstatic.

It didn't take long for (Y/N) to fall asleep on him after Jake started to move his thumbs in soothing circles. Eventually he slumbered too after he confirmed she was comfortable and sound asleep.

When Payback and Fanboy came back home they found the lieutenants still curled up on the couch, they looked so cozy and happy together like that.

"They are so cute"

"The cutest"

"Ohh Phoenix's gonna eat up these photos"

[phyrestartr]

Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (Pt.2) NSFW

W/C: 3.2k #NSFW, THEY FUCKIN', bottom!reader, top!sukuna, mild yuuji/reader, yuuji and gang are v early 20s, heian sukuna, male reader, typical kitsune shapeshifting, canon typical violence, morally grey reader, sukuna ignores feelings through the force of sheer willpower, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, dubcon elements, blood as lube (SORRY), Sukuna unhinged horknee, ABO elements

A/N: I wanted to make this include more parts, but I am so flabbergasted and in awe of the response to this fic that I feel the need to feed y'all feral creatures LMAO. JKJK but 👀 Thank you for all the feedback and support! It really gives me the motivation to continue writing and to interact with the JJK community. I'm having a lot of fun!

tags: @kamote-kuneho @kamote-kuneho @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @3zae-zae3 @chibiduck @kiiyoooo @lukaijah

“What the fuck is this?” Sukuna drawled, an intense fury simmering through his being. His gaze couldn't tear free from you, not even to size up the blindfolded weirdo watching him intently. 

He shattered the coffin, freeing you from the makeshift cursed bath some freak had forced you into. He smoothed damp hair from your sickly face and searched for sparks of life somewhere in the cold stillness that'd overtaken you. And there was something. He found it, a little glimmer of vitality in the smallest, shakiest inhale. 

“Good,” he praised, brushing your hair back more and more to get a better look at your face. You looked like the frail little thing he saved all those decades ago.

“You know,” Gojo interrupted, but Sukuna paid him no mind, “If I didn't know any better, I'd think you actually cared about that kitsune.” 

“Then you don't know what this is,” Sukuna decided blandly. “Figures.” Kenjaku kept him off the record, huh? Guess that's a bonus.

“Oh? Do you wanna enlighten me before Yuuji comes back?” Gojo smiled, as if he really expected Sukuna to play nice and be honest with him. “Come on, come on, it's your chance to be vulnerable~” 

“Tch. Pretty damn sure the fox'll be the one to tell you.” His hand smoothed over your stomach and rubbed slow, gentle circles against your skin as reverse technique sought to bring you all back to him. “He yaps about as much as your insufferable ass does. Granted, he talks a lot nicer.” 

“Wow, rude.” Gojo sighed and clapped twice as if clapping on a light. “Okay! I've had enough bullying. Yuuji–” 

“Brat, don't you fucking dare–” 

Yuuji inhaled sharply. He blinked owlishly at your calmed expression, your eyes now closed and breathing now steadied thanks to Sukuna's aid. 

Aid. That wasn't something the king did. 

“Sensei,” Yuuji managed, voice quivering under the weight of memories’ emotion. “Can you fix this?”

Somehow, you were stuck in the throes of flirtation with the malevolent king of curses. 

“It may be courtship,” Uraume guessed, soft smile brightening their cold exterior. 

(They'd been smiling more recently, actually, ever since you completed that overcoat and presented it to them. Nary a day went by when they did not don the sentimental garb.)

But you weren't so sure; the event of courtship was serious business across all lucid creatures. Animals and creatures of primal existence sought out partners with favorable genes and strong constitution, whereas humans and the like yearned for merit or love in their coupling. You didn't quite grasp the way humans thought. Not yet. 

Well, save for flirting. You decided it was a sort of pre-courtship where nothing became serious and nothing was on the line, but frivolous touches and haughty words of praise ran rampant when those concerned crossed paths. 

Much like today.

(Much like the days before and after.)

You walked along the stone-paved path most mornings, lost in thoughts and mumbling to yourself bits and pieces of poems. Most were unfinished, but in their own time, verses would find one another and complete the incomplete. 

A groggy yawn hummed from the palace entrance. And moments later, Ryoumen Sukuna fell into step with you, grumbling and mumbling complaints about the nippy Spring morning while he tucked his arms away into his sleeves. 

He followed you, idly looking around the expansive space you'd helped curate and maintain when you weren't busying yourself with the girls or decorating clothing. The gardens weren't a mess before, not at all, but now they had a certain taste–trees and flowers were planted with specificity, stones were moved, paths reworked. You took the outside over completely. The king didn't mind. 

“Sukuna-sama,” you said, voice melting in kind with the morning frost. “I'll need to leave for a short while.” 

Sukuna quirked a brow and looked at you. You gazed upon the large, thick koi flashing their beautiful scales and ornate patterns of orange and white as they swam and followed you. Tch. How come even the fish were drawn to you? 

“And how do you think you'll accomplish that?” Sukuna tossed a rock into the koi pond, making the fish scatter. “Getting away from me isn't something you can do.”

You huffed and looked at him. “I understand. I simply seek your permission.” 

“Denied.”

“Ah.” You deadpanned. “Why?”

“You're mine; I decide where you go, how you breathe, if you eat. Or are you forgetting that?” 

You sighed and let your ears droop sadly with your tails. “Surely you jest.” 

“Are you laughing?”

You whined like a sad, sad street pup before cozying up to him, slipping your hands up his stomach and chest like you were supposed to. “Please?” 

“No.” 

You chittered and pressed your face against him, but didn't protest and complain much more. 

Sukuna’s thoughts whirled. The show was amusing, sure, but you didn't do anything without reason, especially when it had to do with breaking character and acting out like this out of–

Oh? 

Sukuna leaned down and sniffed you, searching for the intriguing coil of flowery citrus he nearly missed on the warming breeze. It was so, so faint, but decadent and alluring in a way that made the master of toxins cautious–most poisons tasted sweet, after all. 

You pulled your head back, shrinking down the slightest bit with your ears flattened against your skull. Your eyes, wide as a full moon, stared up at him, expectant. The touch of your hands on him never left, though.

“Brassavola nadosa.” Sukuna tilted his head. “You smell like it.” 

You blinked curiously, relaxing. “Is that so?” 

We don't have that orchid in the garden. Sukuna hummed and lifted a lock of your hair, catching another weak waft of the flower's faint scent. 

It's coming from him, then. Hm. 

“Tell me again why you want to leave the palace?” Sukuna asked on a hunch.

And that hunch doubled down when you fidgeted with the cloth of his haori and looked aside. 

“I wish to bear children," you admitted, shy and quiet. "To try, at the very least. Perhaps find a mate, too.” 

Children. You wanted children. After everything those sorcerers put you through for who knows how many years, you still wanted to mother a runt of your own. And you were willing to run off into the wild to, what, let some random man knock you up? Fill you with seed of unknown origin, unknown value, unknown potential?

Sukuna's ego flared. He leaned down to you, tilting your chin up to make you look him in the eyes regardless how small you felt in that moment. He deserved to witness you. You deserved to witness him. 

“You're not leaving,” he breathed, and he swore he could hear your heart break. “If you want a brat, you'll get a brat–only if you stay here 'n give up on those shitty thoughts of finding a sire out there.”

Your eyes scanned his face, tracing over serious lines and honest creases. Clearly, you searched for an answer–

“How?” 

–one that Sukuna didn’t have. Or maybe he did. Perhaps he just couldn't find the words for it. 

He scoffed and ruffled up your hair, unable to answer you. “You're not leaving. Not unless I say so.” 

The first time he let you go, he left scars. 

He found you in your chambers come early evening. Your tails swished and flicked as you sat amidst a nest of his robes and the missing linens from his chambers while you futzed over the embroidery of another haori, this time adorning the plain thing with the darkest scarlet one could find. Sukuna could already guess why. 

Your being burns as wildfires do. Lively. Emphatically. Devouring more and more so long as the earth lets you. Yet where you do not lay ruin, you grant warmth and light in a divine way. Wildfires are not such horrible things if one stays a respectable ways away. 

Your poetic nonsense irritated him to no end, but he fell enamored all the same; you spoke to honor him with every utterance of his name. You didn't try to kiss his feet nor did you bask him in compliments–you only spoke into existence that which hummed through your mind, unprovoked. It just so happened to be everything Sukuna liked to hear. 

So when he found you secluded away, beckoning so sweetly with intoxicating scents of citrus and gardenia, what choice did he have but to lay claim, to give you the brat you so sorely yearned for?  

You sensed him. Your gaze flicked to him, stoic and unmoved as ever, as the energy in the room built into suffocating silence, something like tectonic plates caught in deadlock, holding their disastrous energy, waiting for the right moment to devastate the world with a single, cataclysmic shift.

And of course, it was the impatient predator that moved first, setting a catastrophe into motion. 

The hours blurred together. 

Every minute of the chase was thrilling, invigorating, surprising–you were filled with tricks and traps, never slowing down for a second to think or doubt as the beast of a sorcerer pursued you through his palace, through the city below, and now into the looming forest in the mountains. 

Admittedly, he'd gotten carried away. He lost himself in the rush of it all, the adrenaline and pure, destructive desire pushed his self-control into unraveling just the slightest bit; honest attacks tore through space and time, hoping to maim and cripple you if they were to hit. And, honestly, the way you avoided his attempts to strike you down enthralled him as much as it enraged him–he was seconds away from unleashing his domain until a less-than-satisfying ripple of cursed energy tore across your thigh and put you down.

It was then, walking up to you, to his prey, that Sukuna remembered you weren't a sorcerer. Most would be able to stand and walk it off, maybe even heal with reverse technique, but you could only grasp at your weeping wound and grimace. Because you were not a sorcerer, you were a kitsune: a trickster, a creature full of mischief and void of cursed energy. 

Yokai. Not a human. Not a curse. Not like the rest of the boring souls wandering his earth. 

Sukuna pinned you the second you tried to make a break for it. Fangs and claws gnashed and tore into him while his hands strained to keep you down and rip those damn clothes free from your burning skin. 

Mating's never a pretty thing when it comes to nature. Humans like you made it something more.

Sukuna clasped a hand over your mouth and forced his weight onto you, ripping reedy yowls from your core as you twisted and turned, primal mind urging you to run, run, run, don't make this easy, make him prove his worth–

Rip.

Ribbons of what were once your robes fluttered to the ground, useless and unsalvageable. They were plain black, so unlike what you usually wore. You wouldn't miss them. 

“Make this as difficult as you want, pet,” Sukuna whispered as he loomed over you. His hand slid from your mouth to your throat when you stilled.  

“You know how this ends.” 

His pants were pulled down while another hand wiped slippery blood against your pliant entrance–and that was the only warning you got before he pushed into you. 

Where you should have screamed, you instead sighed. Your back arched off the ground like a work of art. Two hands gave up on holding you down in favour of gripping your waist and hips, pulling you closer to him, forcing you flush against his body. 

He noticed it then: a litany of old scars and discoloured marks shining against your skin. Marks left by those who did not deserve to taste such a delicacy. 

Unsightly.

Blood painted the grass. Cleaves and slashes ate away at those tainted scars, painting over the ugliness left hidden for too long–now, his marks would decorate you. Now, those hidden scars would mean something. They’d mean everything. 

Yet Sukuna's selfish maiming wasn't fitting the bill, and your antsy-ness was proof of it. You tried for the last time to pull from him, but his grip tightened around your throat. You gazed at him, then, eyes so wide and hungry, eager to fight or fuck–whichever came first. 

He braced over you and nearly winced as he dragged out of your suffocating heat. A sharp snap back inside loosened you, the glide of blood and slick aiding him. 

“I'll take you the way you need it,” he drawled as he built the pace quickly, already feeling his own obsession and excitement reverberating through his body, filling every fibre of muscle with electricity.

“Then,” he growled, leaning closer to your face. “I'll fuck you the way you want it.”

“More,” you sighed, digging your nails into the pillow you had your face buried in while the beast fucked you from behind. Sukuna groaned in compliance and lanced into your guts deeper, harder, faster than before–you were the only one that could handle the brutal way he let loose, and he was more than willing to indulge in that privilege. 

The hands all over you rose to the occasion, too; one had your tails fisted in his ruthless grasp, rudely holding you still and pulling you back against his hips; another rested on the curve of your ass, only moving to give a sharp slap or to knead your soft, perfect skin; the last two held your hips in a crushing force, his calloused fingers digging into your plush sides and sharp hip bones like you might disappear at any second. 

A sharp, sweet whine signaled the beginning of the end, as did the restless fidgeting and shifting in the king's grasp. Seeing you, a poised, powerful, mischievous being, come undone beneath him came to be one of Sukuna’s favourite sights, especially knowing it could only be because of him--only him. 

He leaned over you, his heavy chest pressing into your back as one hand released your waist in favour of fisting in your hair and tugging your head back and out of the futon you so desperately clung to. 

“Ah-ah,” he scolded breathily. “No hiding.” It was a familiar sentiment, one he had no problem reminding you of now and again. You had a horrible habit of trying to vanish when overwhelmed, after all. 

“Terrible beast,” you snapped back, scoffing indignantly when the deep bassy laugh of the man rolled through your body. “Horrible.” 

“You love it,” Sukuna growled back, grinning through every word. 

Something about it clearly struck a chord with you, judging by how fast you choked on your voice and came undone, legs trembling and body tightening around the too-big intrusion. The king groaned and bit at your neck, licking whatever blood beaded at the surface in between rushed, hushed words of praise for you and your efforts–most, if they heard the things he said, would call it out of character for the beast. Most didn't get to see beyond his raw power and crippling cruelty, however. 

Sukuna grunted and spilled inside you, pulling you back by your hair, hips and tail to ensure he forced every bit of his offerings deep into your core. Your body rocked and twitched against his, accepting all he had to offer you at the end of yet another coupling, before he let go of your locks and let you collapse face-first into the futon. 

He pulled out slowly, watching as every inch slipped from your abused hole before popping free and uncorking a dribble of whiteness from inside. He tutted and scooped it up with two fingers before stuffing it back in. 

“Oi, oi, are you even trying to keep it in?” He teased, smirking as you huffed. 

“You've exhausted me. I have no energy to attempt the impossible,” you lamented, nuzzling your nose further into the soft sheets smelling of cedar and fresh blooms–something so uniquely Sukuna. 

Your king sighed and gave your ass a firm few pats. “Guess I'll have to spoil you even more.” He settled onto his back and easily pulled you onto him, yanking you up to straddle his waist right where that second mouth laid open and eager to taste you. 

“This is uncouth,” you sighed. But you rocked back against the thick, heavy tongue pressing into your pliant heat, licking deep into you with a mind and hunger of its own. 

“Seems couth enough for you,” he commented, watching you ride his centre with rapt attention. “Little harlot's getting off on this, hey? Such a needy little brat.” 

His hands smoothed up and down your legs and sides as you shamelessly chased a second high. Your hands clasped over his as he took you into his hand and stroked you back to ample stiffness, the soreness of too many rounds of fucking making you far too sensitive to touch. 

“S-Sukuna-sama,” you stammered. “I can't–”

Sukuna's head tilted with a pleased smirk. “Ho? I thought you wanted to bear children? Are my offerings not enough for you?” 

You scrunched your face up into something of a prissy glare, but the shine clinging to your lashes and the shuddering of your body against his betrayed your crumbling demeanor. Of course, he was impressed with how his fox was fairing considering everything he put you through. 

He maneuvered you onto your back, grinning as you growled and weakly struggled against him. You looked perfect–stomach swollen, hair fanned out behind you, eyes teary but unable to tear away from the creature that’d tormented you for hours upon hours with no desire to give you a break. 

“Greedy god,” Sukuna lamented. One hand came to rest on your bruised neck again, fitting around so perfectly. “Nothing’s ever fucking good enough for you.” 

“You are.” 

That gave Sukuna pause. He stared down at you, all eyes looking over you with rapt attention as he tried to think. Tried to understand. Tried to parse those words and uncover what exactly you tried to convey. 

But it didn't click. 

“Tch. You're lucky I'm a generous god,” he scolded, releasing you from your torment in favour of collapsing down beside you for some much-needed rest. Not only did your beautiful body wear him out (not that he'd admit it), but your whimsical words wore his sanity thin. The worst part was you didn't even intend to damage him so. 

“I am truly honoured to merely be in your presence,” Your voice, light and dreamy as petals fluttering, laughed, and Sukuna's soul did something odd. 

He stared at the ceiling as you shuffled beside him, quickly returning to his side, donned in one of his haori and determined to make a comfortable nest of blankets and clothes around you both for the rest of the night–ah, morning? Huh. What an ordeal. 

You curled up next to him, shoving your back firmly against his side the way you often did when resting as a fox, and Sukuna huffed. 

“Turn to me,” he commanded, and you obeyed. 

He, too, turned to face you to envelope your lithe form with invincible arms and divine protection. Your soft purrs rolled through him, settling his wild spirit into a lazy tempo of an early morning stroll through a garden filled with one sort of white orchid: 

Brassavola nadosa. “Lady of the Night.” Your calling card. Your divine essence.

"Brassavola nodosa (Lady of the Night) is a medium-sized epiphytic or lithophytic orchid species boasting extremely fragrant flowers throughout the year. The blossoms, 4 in. across (10 cm), emit a citrus fragrance at night. Each flower features long, slender, pale green or creamy-white sepals and petals and a large, heart-shaped lip sometimes adorned with purple or dark red spotting." - gardenia.net

[harunovella]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ love language (verse v); s.g.

synopsis: it's utahime's birthday and you play spin the bottle... bonus, you're tipsy! content: canon divergence (teen!gojo era), fem!reader, hopeless romantic gojo, underage drinking, seven minutes in heaven (probs done wrong? idk), semi-first kisses, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: here's another one shot for my gojo anthology series! I found out it's utahime's birthday (2/18) so I managed to pull something together for this lil series (happy birthday utahime)! wanna be tagged? lmk in the replies!

"Happy birthday, Utahime!" Shoko exclaimed, wrapping an arm around the dark haired girl, clinking her beer with hers as the two chugged. There was an obvious buzz in the air, not only them, but everyone else. Mei Mei managed to get a private room where no one would question what was going on inside, seeing as some of the attendees were underage—yourself included. Your interest had always been piqued by it, this not being the first time your friends had beer around you. However, this was your first time having it... And you weren't the only one.

"Who would've thought you were a lightweight," Mei Mei piped as she nudged Gojo with her shoulder. "You never bothered to drink with us before, what's changed your mind?" Smirking at him, already knowing the answer, the older woman gazed at the white haired boy as his cheeks burned a bright pink. His eyes shifted in your direction—where you had been huddled up with the birthday girl and Ieiri. "Oh, trying to impress someone, huh?"

"Shut up," Gojo mumbled, rubbing his cheeks as his body slightly swayed. "I didn't want to be a party pooper..." Eyeing you as you laughed, Satoru felt his heart race faster than it ever had in his life. He blamed it on the alcohol. "It tastes like shit."

"Then why do you keep drinking it?" Geto asked, now settled beside his best friend. "You hate beer, the first time you tried it at Shoko's birthday was enough to stop you."

"It's because he's trying to impress little miss sweetheart over there," Mei Mei nudged her head in your direction. Suguru looked over, not surprised that he was doing this just to look cool in front of you. 

"She's not gonna care if you hate it, Satoru," Suguru nudged him. "This is her first time, too."

"That's exactly... why," Gojo hiccuped. "If she can do it, so can... I!" He nodded, lifting his bottle to take another swig. Instantly hissing at the taste, squeezing his eyes shut as he shook his head, Geto laughed beside him before patting his back. "I'm trying to find a way to enjoy this but, god it's aw—"

"Satoru!" You exclaimed, waving at him before stumbling over. Falling to your knees in front of him and smiling wide, waving your own bottle before him. "This is really good, right?" You asked, realizing he had chosen the same beer as you. 

"Y—" choking on his words, Suguru smacked his back. "Yeah! To— Totally!"

Giggling, you made your way beside him as Mei Mei crawled away to sit with the other girls. "This is so much fun... what a great party," you beamed, leaning your head on his shoulder. Gojo grew stiff, grip on the bottle tightening as his free hand clutched onto his knee. Geto sat there with a smug grin, an idea coming to mind as his focus shifted towards the empty bottles. 

"Hey, I've got an idea," he spoke up, moving onto his knees to grab an empty bottle. "Let's play spin the bottle, hmm?"

"Yes!" Utahime nodded, tugging on Shoko's sleeve and waving for Mei Mei to move over so they could form a circle. 

"That'll be fun!" You nodded after lifting your head from Gojo's shoulder, grabbing his wrist so he could join you. 

He wasn't sure if it was the liquid courage, or maybe he was hyper aware, but you were being more touchy with him. Normally, you kept things cordial, constantly smiling or laughing with him as he was the one finding ways to touch you... Now with the tables turn? His heart was basically at the pit of his stomach, slightly trembling as you sat practically thigh to thigh with him. 

"Okay, let's do truth or dare," Suguru said as he settled the bottle, "whoever it lands on has to answer. Got it?" Seeing everyone nodded, the dark haired man grinned as he eyed his best friend, who basically looked like he was disassociating from the world. 

"Let's go!" Utahime exclaimed before clapping. 

"Birthday girl has the honor," Suguru nodded as Utahime beamed before reaching over to spin the bottle. 

Everyone watched with curious eyes, and like that, one by one everyone took a turn to spin the bottle. Most answered with truth, only to earn an annoyed groan from Mei Mei saying how things need to change up. 

Spinning the bottle, Mei Mei smirked as it landed on Gojo, "truth or dare, blue eyes."

Gulping, he eyed everyone as they eagerly watched him. Sucking in a sharp breath, he sat up, "dare."

"Finally," Shoko mumbled as Utahime stifled her laughter. 

"Perfect, I dare you to play seven minutes in heaven with cutie over there," Mei Mei nudged her head in your direction. "No take me backs, get in there," she pointed at the tiny supply closet behind the two of you. Gojo looked over with hesitation as you blushed. 

"Okay!" You nodded, standing up and grabbing his hand to join you. 

He felt like he had no control over his body, following you along the way and nearly tripping over his own feet as you practically shoved him inside once opening the door. Watching as you followed inside, shutting the door behind you as you were pressed against one another, Satoru held his breath. Looking down at you with wide eyes as your own looked up at him, hooded, he felt his heart thudding against his ribcage. 

Pressing your hands against his chest, you smiled up at him. "We've got seven minutes in here..." you said. 

"You— you think they'll make us... stay that long in here?" He stuttered as you shrugged, only to shyly look away. 

"I hope so..." you admitted, nibbling on your bottom lip. 

Eyeing you and wanting nothing more than to touch you, Gojo clenched his fists at his sides before throwing his head back. His mind was racing, thoughts rushing around as he felt not only your hands on him, but your whole body. It took his entire being—and willpower—to fight the blood rushing towards a place it shouldn't be. Not in a moment like this. Even if it was meant for that. "You... Uh..."

"Hm?" You looked up at him as he lowered his focus to meet yours. 

"N— Nothing, heh..." he awkwardly looked away, lifting his hand to rub the back of his neck. 

"Satoru..." you spoke up. 

"Yeah?" He mumbled. 

"Please look at me..." you begged but he stubbornly kept his eyes on the wall beside him. "Toru..." you quietly spoke as the man shivered at the sound of his nickname. "Please..."

Feeling your hands snake their way up to his face, you gently turned his head to look at you. "I— I—"

"At a loss for words?" You tilted your head, teasing him as he blinked. "Can I kiss you?"

Feeling his heart sink as you gazed up at him with lazy eyes, Gojo took in deep breaths, "you— you want to... kiss me?" He asked, gulping. 

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to..." you nearly whispered, causing Satoru to shiver yet again. The feeling of your nails gently caressing his skin as you didn't bother to look away, Gojo squeezed his eyes shut. How were you being the bold one? How did you have the power to always turn him into mush? Sure, you had liquid courage, but even when you weren't tipsy you had him so easily wrapped around his finger! "Toru?"

"Yes," he nodded. 

"Yes... I can?" You asked as he nodded again. 

"Please..." he whispered, begging. He knew this wasn't the right time to get his first kiss from you (or ever) but he was so desperate and so needy. He should've said no, should've said another time. However, he was a teenage boy. He didn't entirely use common sense...

Tiptoeing as you tugged him down gently, hands moving to the back of his neck, your lips pressed against his. Feeling his heart in his throat as he gazed at your closed eyes, Gojo's shaky hands settled on your hips as he kissed you back, indulging in this (what felt like) once in a lifetime opportunity. Surely neither of you would never forget. 

"So, how was it?" Shoko asked as she sat beside you on a bench, enjoying a pair of strawberry milk boxes during your break from training. 

"How was what?" You tilted your head. 

"Your seven minutes in heaven with Satoru," she chuckled, only to earn a confused look from you. "Y'know, last night?"

"Seven minutes in heaven with Satoru?" You asked as she nodded. "I don't remember that..."

tag list: @bakananya @strangehuman101 @thirtykiwis @sillygoosegoose @mandysfanfics @pinksaiyans (some of u I sadly couldn't tag!)

[bobur-the-berry-guy]

Please may I have Dandadan platonic headcanons of Okarun with a younger sister age 14 who has a weakened immune system along with being asthmatic..she wasn't a stranger to being ill..she didn't come home at a normal time one day and Ayase found her unconscious in the rain and.."she's burning up.." when Ayase realised that she also had a fever. She was also bullied and laughed at by her classmates for having a weirdo nutter for a big brother who believes in Aliens and she supported his beliefs genuinely to be kind. She is a genuinely kind kid despite her health problems that left her bedridden sometimes and sometimes even sick. Prolonged exposure to the rain or water without drying off can make her very ill if she isn't covered with a coat..she was quite sickly and she was born 2 weeks early when Okarun was 3 when things went horribly wrong after a car accident. She had caught every childhood illness known to man in her younger years and it was slightly shameful to admit the truth but she ended up in tears as it was frustrating that she was mostly more in hospital than at home.

Okarun's relationship with his younger sister who is certainly unwell and had suffered from health issues and was more in hospital than not.

Ayase's relationship with Okarun's younger sister

https://youtu.be/__wPpu1C-zg?si=X9xlU6oFVzpVxDtI (to describe her life)

HIIIII THANK YOU FOR BEING MY FIRST REQUEST HEREE!!!

Besides that, I hope you're doing well! I wasn't really well versed in weak immune system issues, but i looked a bit into it and i hope you like it! Take care 💕

Being Okarun's little sister! With health problems!

To start with, i think being Okarun's little sister would mean you have a brother that would be always there for you.

No matter what problem you're facing, he's always there and willing to help you out. Be it with homework, school, friends, teachers, parents or anything else. If he can't help, he's there to listen and be a shoulder to cry on.

If you're easily sick he would be incredibly careful with you - making sure his hands are washed, he's healthy and keeping things clean and tidy. He would NEVER do anything that could potentially harm you.

If you have asthma, i think he would carry an inhaler around with him just in case. Better be safe than sorry, especially with his sister.

If you're feeling sick at school he's taking you home immediately. No ifs and no buts. He doesn't care if he misses a class or two, if he doesn't turn in the homework on time or if his attendance would suffer - you need to be at home and that's that.

If you're in the hospital, he'd be there whenever he possibly can. He doesn't want you to be alone - hospitals probably aren't the greatest place to spend time in. Be it watching some show, talking your ear off about alies and extraterrestrials or just sitting in silence, he wants to be there with you.

If you're sick and you're at home, he's taking care of you whenever you need it. He's bringing you medicine, running you a hot bath, cooking you a good meal - pretty much anything you could need.

He's there for the gross parts too - he would hold your hair when you're throwing up and clean up after you if you need it. He doesn't care how nasty it is, you're his sister and to him, as a brother it's his duty to take care of you even if it gets bad.

If you frequent the same hospital, the nurses and doctors probably know him. Other than his whole alien thing, they know he's always there to ask about how you're doing and what he could do to help you.

As your relationship with Ayase, i think she would be a little clueless but she has the spirit. Like your author dearest

Okarun would feel awful if you're being bullied for being sickly, but even worse he would feel absolutely horrible if you're bullied because he's your brother. He would never forgive himself for putting you through that. Even if you're supportive to his belief in aliens and aren't really bothered by his weird ideas, as thankful as he would be for it, he would still be worried about the bullying.

You would have to explain to her what's up and how come you're doing things a bit differently to keep yourself healthy.

She would help you out if she can, but she does it like it isn't really a big deal. She just happens to carry around an extra coat or hot tea, face mask and whatnot. She doesn't want you to feel burdened because she's gotten Okarun's habit of always having something handy - she genuinely cares about you too.

If Okarun can't come visit you at the hospital or help you when you need it, best believe she's heard about it and is coming.

If he needs to do something but you're at home sick, she's coming to look after you. She knows enough for taking care of someone sick to be there. If you need anything specific you would have to tell her though.

If she visits you at the hospital, be prepared for a chat. She will talk your ear off about anything and everything - keep the conversation going!

She would also listen if you need to talk about your problems! She can't always give advice but she would always be there if you need her.

On that note, if you're being bullied CONGRATS! You're not bullied anymore. Not if she knows about it. She's not letting that slide.

You're in school. Its a break between classes. Next class is the 2nd, maybe 3rd? You aren't even sure anymore.

The weather has been awful since the morning, you really should've taken a thicker coat.

The classroom is too loud, too bring and too hot. You can barely breathe from how cramped it feels, even though half your class is out and about.

You can feel your head pulsing and your world spinning. It feels like you're full of hot air and you're floating like a balloon but still like your body is so heavy it can barely hold itself up. Shivers run up and down your body, you aren't sure if your body is boiling itself alive or you're freezing blue and purple all at once. You're so nauseous but still you're so thirsty. You've barely eaten any breakfast and still you feel like throwing up.

It all feels too much right now and going to the bathroom for some peace and quiet seems like your only choice. At least in there you won't feel like the air is so hot it would cook you alive.

The hallway seems like a claustrophobic hell - it's overflowing with students, its so cramped you can barely pass, the chatter feels like a thousand radios playing different static over each other.

You can barely walk as it is, but with the crowded hallway it seems almost impossible. It feels like you're floating around, everything seems so distant as if you're watching it on tv.

Suddenly you're in the bathroom.

Holding yourself up on the sink you don't even feel your legs anymore. You're burning up, your throat feels like its closing up and it feels like the ground is whirling under you.

You hear someone call your name and you can't even make out who it is. You're barely hearing through white noise and your world goes dark.

You wake up and you're in your bed, at home. You covered by soft blankets, still sick but at least safe and warm. The lamps are out, the only light is coming from the window. Its still gloomy outside, the sun hidden behind woolly silver clouds and the milky fog coverd everything beyond the neighborhood.

You can hear footsteps coming towards your room. You're now also aware of the chatter of tv and someone talking in the living room.

And your brother enters the room.

"OHMYGOD- Y/n, you're awake! How are you feeling? Do you need anything?? Did you know you have a fever?? Why did you come to school si-"

"QUIET! She's sick and you're yelling! Are you stupid?!"

Ayase is there to stop your brother from going on a rant, but she isn't any less quiet than him.

After that, they bring you food, water and medicine. They stay and talk, laugh, chase each other around and keep you company.

You're not sure if you'll ever get better or it will only get worse, but they're there for you anyway.

•

•

•

Im not rlly sure how to write good older brothers, but ik whats not a good older brother and so im writing exactly what that isnt so i hope my method is working😌

I hope you enjoyed, my requests are open!!

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

Hey dude. It's me - anon with that SAGAU!kid!reader idea. Well, I was thinking about Liyue or Sumeru men (I'm that kind of person, that's into guys LOL). If there is a relationship, then only platonic one (or maybe father-child in Zhongli's case).

So I will try to go with Zhongli, Baizhu, Alhaitham and Cyno (probably Gaming, cuz he's like a son to me) That's it for now Hope I didn't ask for much tho 😅

CONNECTED TO THIS IDEA!

Aye aye, Anon! God!Child! Reader Platonic Meets Ups It is!

Also plz note that I might not be able to list every Sumeru/Liyue man there is in Genshin bc Im doing this at the top of my head—

Sumeru And Liyuen Men (And Gaming) With The God Child.

(Warning: Might be OOC!)

Cyno

The General Mahamatra may not exactly be well-versed when it comes to comforting words (except his puns—and even then, many people would say otherwise), but Cyno is a sincere man. You can trust that he will stick to his word.

And he does, when he promised to look after the Almighty Creator who is a child (not unlike Nahida, but they certainly have more of a mindset of a child—). But was he expecting your chaotic behavior (explosives Klee Style)? Yeah...No.

Bro nearly thought you were held at gunpoint or tricked/manipulated into doing it until he realized you did on your own.

"...Your Grace...Please don't blow up the store again." So instead of protecting you from harm by others, Cyno is more focused on protecting others from harm by you. As much as he doesn't like to think of it that way, you were a lot more dangerous than any eremite or sand monster there was out there.

At least he's still doing his job, being the General Mahamatra! You gift him a flower crown, and he has to take it or else. :)

Tighnari

Since he works with many young forest rangers, and tutors Collei, Tighnari is probably used to dealing with children. Dealing with the Almighty Creator certainly wasn't going to be an issue under this Forest Watcher's eyes.

That was...until you blew up a rishboland tiger. By yourself. On your own. Without getting hurt.

He was not the only freaking out, mind you. Collei was losing it, and Tighnari? He's internally screaming and getting metaphorical heart attacks.

"Your Grace, what were you thinking, running off like that? I know you're strong and you want to protect everyone, but you can really hurt the environment and—" He tries his best to hold back his sassiness while he scolds you, considering some children are much more emotional than others.

He sets up some basic rules for you to follow to make sure that you respect the Avidya Rainforest grounds, but also protect yourself from any form of harm.

Bro becomes a helicopter parent while you're under his care. Have fun, and I hope you enjoy mushrooms. Collei will cook you something else if you don't like what Tighnari cooks, though. :)

Kaveh

This man. He will BUILD you toys. He will DRAW you stories. He may even tell you stories himself.

Mehrak is your best friend when you're around Kaveh. And that man tries his best to make sure your time with him is good. He also refrains from drinking, which is nice! He's improving a little! :D

Absolutely gets worried if you run off without him knowing or if you're hiding from him for too long while playing hide and seek. He goes into an utter MELTDOWN.

And if you blow something up? Boy, if you thought Tighnari getting metaphorical heart attacks was bad, think again—Kaveh might actually get a heart attack.

"Your Grace! What—What were you thinking? Where were you? What did you do? Why did I hear an explosion?!" He's trying to keep himself as calm as possible, but Kaveh is an emotional man. He's kind of failing—

Luckily, with your go-lucky attitude, you pull Kaveh around and take his mind off of work and your explosions! Win-win! :D

Al-haitham

The moment Nahida assigned him the task of taking care of the Almighty Creator, who is a child, bro is planning his things carefully. He is safe-keeping his books, he's renovating Kaveh's bedroom (bc yes), he's buying a few colouring books and crayons.

What he caught him by surprise was not how trusting you were to new strangers you barely knew. It was how you had fun with explosions and exploding everything in your path.

You can imagine as you're being carried away by the Scribe, he's giving you a one-sentence scolding.

"Your Grace, don't ever do that again, it's not nice." He would go into further detail, but he's sure you wouldn't care all that much about data and analysis and stuff like that, so he just ends it as it is.

You're still gonna do it, there's no doubt. It's just now Al-haitham is preparing for your next incoming attack as well.

Zhongli

Grandpa gramps is here woohoo! He's probably the most calmest out of everyone on this request list LOL. You can imagine he's following you calmly, apologizing and paying (through Childe's money cough) for the damages you caused.

Believe it or not, but it was Hu Tao who found you first and decided to take you to Mr. Zhongli for babysitting. He contemplates how the Director found you and brought you back.

The first time you explode something, he is definitely surprised. And concerned of the people who got hurt. You can't fault him for being worried for the mortals that were involved—Liyue Harbor is basically his child. Bro's been governing it for thousands of years.

"Your Grace, Little One, let's try not to put strain in the efforts of an adult's day-to-day life." He scolds you, and will definitely be more keen on your whereabouts, but he does this in a gentle tone. At the very least, you give him something to do that doesn't require him to present himself as the supposedly "deceased" Geo Archon.

Baizhu

With the guy's health issues...it's hard to say if he'll be able to keep up with you and your constant outings all around Liyue Harbor. Changsheng is definitely worried about Baizhu's stress levels as he has to figure out what you did this time and make sure no one was harmed.

He constantly has to ask Qiqi to go find you since he literally cannot keep up with your speed, lest he actually faints or something. You were that quick.

Luckily, if he hears of your whereabouts, he will definitely arrive just in time to apologize and give free check-ups to everyone involved in your explosion party.

"Now, Your Grace, please refrain from hurting others. It's not good to hurt someone's health." You can certainly expect Baizhu to give you a scolding—as well as a basic understanding of medical care in case either you or someone else will need it, and he can't make it there in time.

Like Kaeya (And Tighnari in this post), Baizhu will definitely write you some rules in a notebook and makes you recite them at least twice a day so that you remember not to hurt other people or damage your own health.

He is a doctor for a reason. It's his job to look out for others—even chaotic children with explosives.

Gaming

HAVE NO FEAR, GAMING IS HERE!

Bro is basically your Big Brother who does cool dances and gives you snacks and protects you. Since he's a real foody, you'll definitely know which places are the best to buy snacks!

You find his Wushou Dancing cool as well. He takes pride in it tbh. I mean, who wouldn't be ecstatic if the Almighty Creator loves it?

He does get a bit panic-y when he sees you blow things up, though. As much as he wants to pursue Wushou Dancing as his daily career, he still needs his job as a Shipment Guard.

"Y/N! No! Don't blow that up—!" Yes, he took you out once to travel with the shipment goods for one time, and he's never taken you with him again unless you promise not to blow anything that are near the goods.

He usually leaves you in Liyue Harbor when he's making these Shipment trips, but once he returns, you can certainly count on him to give you some tasty snack or a fulfilling dinner, as well as a free small Wushou Dance.

Big Brother Gaming does not disappoint!

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: I AM VERY DEAD. I AM SO SORRY SOBBING. Life hits you hard and fast sometimes sigh. I've been so busy I haven't been posting much—but rest assured, I have quite a lot of posts for you guys very soon!

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

[svt-luna]

heyyyy, i was wondering how would luna and hannie react to eachother being sick/ mobbed by fans.i am sure the members are very protective over luna but hannie will be extra protective and always be attentive over luna for each and every stuff. Protective boyfie hannie sounda cuteeeeee. my heart 💞 💜

𝜗℘ NOTHING MATTERS BUT YOU

❛ 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘪 𝘤𝘳𝘺. 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘦��𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘥𝘦. 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪'𝘭𝘭 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵— 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥'𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶— 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶. ❜

timeline: 2019

synopsis: When exhaustion and vulnerability collide, Jeonghan's quiet devotion proves that even in the midst of chaos, only one thing truly matters.

warnings: slight angst, sick!Luna, cursing, crying, fatigue, flu, anxiety, mentions of panic attacks, mentions of vomiting, claustrophobia, mobs, paparazzi, frustration, doubts, mentions of hate, overall fluff, boyfriend material!Jeonghan, fluff, fluff, fluff, more tooth-rotting fluff, a rollercoaster of emotions, posted on Hannie’s enlistment (might invoke crying because of that fact.)

I’ve been getting a lot of sick!Luna requests so I have mixed all the ideas given to me in this one-shot, so I hope you guys love it 🤍 also the songs I was listening to on a loop as I was writing this are: ‘nothing matters but you’, ‘pov’, ‘imperfect for you’, and ‘sweet nothing’— so you can listen to those songs if you want!!

also, I purposely waited to post this till this very day 🥹 I really hope it gives you comfort for this dreaded day… Hannie might be gone for a while but I hope my posts make up for it (this is how I cope) 🤍

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ writings masterlist

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The pounding.

Luna couldn’t tell if it was coming from the deep ache in her head, the constant pounding in her ears from the screams surrounding them, or the heavy thud of her own footsteps against the tiled floor.

Maybe it was all of them all together.

Each beat seemed to blur into the next, a constant, overwhelming drum that wouldn’t let her think clearly.

All fourteen members of SEVENTEEN moved in unison through the airport on their way to LA for KCON 2019, security guiding them toward their gate. Flanked by bodyguards, they were shielded from the sea of fans pressing in, screaming their names, reaching out to touch them, phones held high to capture a fleeting moment.

Ahead of her walked Seungcheol, their leader, his tall frame cutting through the crowd like a steady force. Behind her, Jeonghan’s footsteps echoed close, his presence always within reach, always steady.

But none of it helped the dull throb pulsing through her temples. Luna’s head was killing her. The flashes from the cameras set up by the media didn’t help either; each flicker of light sent sharp jolts through her skull, making her stomach churn with nausea.

She was sick— she knew that much.

It had been building for days, the flu creeping up on her from the constant traveling, the back-to-back practice sessions and the late nights spent rehearsing until her body couldn’t take it anymore. But now, walking in between her members, with hundreds of eyes watching her every move, she had to keep it together.

At least she’s dressed great— that’s what Luna told herself to keep her spirits up… it really wasn't working. Fashionable as ever, she was dressed in her usual chic, comfy airport style, but today her outfit served more than just looks. The oversized fluffy bucket hat cast a shadow over her eyes, concealing the exhaustion in them, while the face mask helped hide the pallor of her skin and the grimace that threatened to show every time her head pounded.

Normally, Luna would wave at the fans, offer a smile, or maybe even pose for a photo. But today, she only managed a few weak waves before lowering her head again, hoping the fans would think she was just sleepy and not worry about her health.

The closer they got to the gate, the tighter the space seemed to become.

Luna lifted her head slightly, catching sight of the crowd pressing in. Fans were pushing to get a glimpse, their hands outstretched, desperate to touch any part of the group, and security was doing their best to hold them back.

Her flu plus the noise, the lights, and the bodies crowding in— it all felt suffocating.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Luna's chest tightened as her breath quickened, each inhale feeling shallow and unsatisfying.

Normally, in moments like this, Luna would do her breathing exercises. She’d ground herself, focus on something steady, and calm her racing heart.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

But today, everything felt wrong.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Her body was tired, too tired to fight back the waves of anxiety threatening to consume her.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Her vision blurred slightly, and the pounding grew louder, and harsher until she finally understood— this pounding wasn’t just in her head.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

It was her heart.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Her heart was hammering in her chest, a beat so hard and fast it felt like it would burst out of her.

Behind her, Jeonghan was watching her every move, his sharp eyes missing nothing.

He saw the way she stilled for just a split second, the way her shoulders tensed as if bracing for something. He noticed how her hands, usually loose and graceful at her sides, were now clenched into fists, her breathing too fast, too shallow.

His gaze sharpened further, worry etching into his features. Without hesitation, he stepped closer, his hand finding hers, prying her fingers open gently. His touch was soft, but firm, as he intertwined his fingers with hers, rubbing small, soothing circles into her palm.

“You’re okay, Nana-ya. Just breathe,” he whispered softly, his voice low and steady, meant only for her. “We’re almost there. Focus on me, okay? Count with me if you need to.”

His words cut through the chaos in her mind, his voice the one steady thing she could hold on to. She closed her eyes briefly, grounding herself in the feel of his hand, the warmth of his touch, the familiar and comforting scent of his perfume, and the soothing rhythm of his voice.

“One step at a time,” Jeonghan continued, his thumb still stroking the back of her hand. “We’ll be at the gate soon. You can rest once we get there.”

He kept talking, his words a careful balance of distraction and comfort, pulling her mind away from the overwhelming noise and back to him.

Slowly, Luna’s breathing began to even out, her heartbeat returning to a more manageable pace. The tension in her shoulders eased, her body relaxing as the adrenaline wore off, leaving her more exhausted than before.

She leaned into Jeonghan slightly, letting herself rest against him, her safe space, as they finally reached their gate, away from the crowd, away from the cameras.

Once they reached the private lounge, Jeonghan gently guided Luna toward a plush couch near the floor-to-ceiling windows, the vast expanse of the airport runway visible just beyond. The planes, a mix of sleek white and metal gray, dotted the tarmac, and the low hum of activity outside served as a soothing backdrop compared to the chaos they’d just escaped.

Jeonghan’s hand never left hers, their fingers intertwined as she waddled beside him, each step slow and tired. She was beyond exhausted, her body heavy with sickness, yet Jeonghan’s touch anchored her, guiding her through the fog of her fatigue.

When they reached the couch, he helped her settle down, his touch as gentle as always. As soon as Luna sank into the cushions, her body practically melted into the soft fabric. She turned her head, laying it against Jeonghan’s shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment.

The cool glass window before her framed the scene outside— the luggage carts moving in their organized chaos, the steady movements of the ground crew— but she barely registered any of it.

Luna just needed a moment to breathe.

Jeonghan’s presence next to her was grounding, his shoulder warm and solid beneath her cheek. She opened her eyes again, gaze trained on the ramp and the plane in front of them, trying to focus on anything but the ache still pounding in her temples. The rhythmic movements of the airport outside, the planes being loaded, gave her something to latch onto, something to quiet her racing thoughts.

The members gathered in the lounge, scattered on the surrounding couches and chairs. At first glance, they seemed relaxed, chatting in low voices, but the way their eyes kept flicking over to Luna didn’t go unnoticed. They knew she was sick— had seen it on her face for days— but now, seeing the weariness settle in her features, they realized how much tired she looked.

Dino, the youngest, opened his mouth as if to ask how she was feeling, but before he could utter a word, Jeonghan glanced over his shoulder and gave a subtle, calm, but firm look.

It was a wordless command, the kind of look that said, Not now.

Seungcheol, standing nearby, raised an eyebrow at Jeonghan, silently asking if everything was okay. The two eldest exchanged a brief glance, an entire conversation passing between them without words. Jeonghan’s slow, reassuring nod told him everything he needed to know.

This wasn’t Luna’s first anxiety attack. She’d had multiple of them before, although it had been a while since her last one. She’d been managing them so well, but today, with the flu weakening her defenses, it had slipped through.

Seungcheol, understanding the situation, gave a barely perceptible nod back. The other members saw the exchange and, without a word, fell into a quiet understanding, lowering their voices and making sure the space around Luna remained as peaceful as possible.

Jeonghan turned back to Luna, his eyes softening as he took in her tired expression. She was still gazing out the window, her eyes following the movements of the airport crew as they loaded luggage onto the planes.

He knew her too well— knew that she was counting in her head, focusing on each piece of luggage as it was lifted and placed into the cargo hold, using it as a distraction to keep her mind occupied.

“Good job. You’re doing such a good job,” he whispered, his voice so soft it was almost drowned out by the ambient noise around them. His arm was draped around her shoulders, his fingers threading through her hair in slow, soothing motions. His other hand still held hers, his thumb tracing gentle circles over her skin. “There you go, Jiyeonie, You’re doing so well.”

The tenderness in his voice made her heart ache in a different way, a warmth blossoming in her chest even though she still felt so drained. She wasn’t fully okay, but with him there, she felt safer, more grounded.

The world outside continued its steady pace, the rhythmic movements of the airport playing out in front of her. Luna’s eyes still remained following the luggage cart, watching as it carried suitcases toward the plane.

Jeonghan, after much thought, leaned in a little closer. “I bet they lost your luggage,” he joked, his voice still quiet but laced with a teasing edge.

Despite the heaviness in her body, Luna couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. She turned her head just enough to give him a playful pout. “Is that your way of making me feel better?” she asked softly, her voice scratchy from fatigue.

Jeonghan smiled down at her, his free hand brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face, his touch lingering as if she was something fragile, something so precious.

The way he looked at her at that moment— it was as if she hung the moon and stars as if nothing else mattered but her, like she was the center of his universe.

“I know it will,” he replied, his smug smile widening just a fraction. “Because then I’ll get to buy you new clothes.”

Luna’s eyes sparkled with amusement despite the exhaustion weighing her down. She couldn’t believe how easily he could see right through her, how effortlessly he made her feel better without even trying.

It was like he had some sort of superpower— knowing exactly what she needed before she even realized it herself.

Jeonghan leaned back against the couch, pulling Luna a little closer to his side, his hand still gently playing with her hair. The rhythm of his fingers brushing through her strands was slow and steady, matching the calming atmosphere around them.

Luna shifted slightly, letting out a quiet sigh as she allowed herself to fully relax into him, her cheek pressed comfortably against his shoulder.

“You’re so cute when you’re sleepy,” Jeonghan whispered, a playful lilt in his voice as he glanced down at her, the corners of his mouth quirking into a fond smile.

Luna groaned softly, not even bothering to open her eyes. “I’m not cute. Definitely not cute now,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible as exhaustion weighed down her every word.

Jeonghan chuckled, low and soothing, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Yes, you are. My cute little Jiyeonie. You’re always cute,” he cooed, his tone shifting into that familiar baby talk that he always used when he wanted to tease her.

Luna, too tired to argue, just grumbled in response, burying her face further into his shoulder. She knew there was no point in protesting; Jeonghan would always win this argument, and deep down, she didn’t mind. Not when his voice was so soft, so comforting.

“Hmm, you’re doing so well, my pretty angel,” he murmured again, his thumb now gently rubbing circles into the back of her hand. “You’re such a strong girl, you know that?”

Luna hummed quietly, the sound of his voice wrapping around her like a blanket. She didn’t have the energy to say much, but she didn’t need to.

Jeonghan knew. He always knew.

He smiled down at her, his gaze warm as he watched her eyes flutter open just a crack, still half-lidded from fatigue. “You’re going to feel better soon. I promise,” he continued softly.

A playful glint appeared in his eyes, and he lifted his hand in front of her face, acting like he grabbed something out of thin air.

Luna, confused, raised an eyebrow as she glanced at his closed fist.

“See this?” Jeonghan said, eyes shifting to his hand as if it held something important.

“What?” Luna asked, her confusion deepening as she watched him curiously.

Jeonghan dramatically acted as if he was throwing something out the window, his arm swinging with a flourish. “I just gave your flu to the guy who lost your luggage,” he said, his face completely serious.

Luna’s eyes widened in disbelief before a small giggle bubbled up from her chest. She gently pushed against his chest, her laughter soft and light. “My luggage isn’t lost, and that man didn’t do anything. He doesn’t deserve to be sick,” she pouted, her lips curving into a playful frown.

Jeonghan sighed in mock amazement, shaking his head. “You are the actual angel between the two of us,” he remarked, his voice filled with a mixture of affection and admiration as he looked at her.

“Whatever,” Luna snuggled closer to him, her eyes closing once more.

Jeonghan placed a kiss on top of her head and said, “When we get there, I’m going to make sure you rest. I’ll tuck you in, and you won’t have to worry about anything else, okay?”

Luna nodded weakly, her grip tightening slightly around his hand. “Mm… sounds nice,” she whispered, her voice raspy but laced with gratitude.

Jeonghan’s smile widened. “Of course it does. I know what my girl likes.” He leaned down, brushing another kiss to the top of her head, lingering for a moment as if that small gesture could transfer all the comfort and care he had for her.

Luna felt her chest warm at his words, a tiny smile tugging at her lips. Even in her exhaustion, even with her body feeling like it was weighed down by bricks, she couldn’t help but feel lighter when he spoke to her like this.

Like she was the only thing that mattered.

“Does that mean you’ll spoil me?” she teased softly, the smallest hint of playfulness in her tone despite how tired she was.

Jeonghan grinned, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he looked down at her. “Oh, absolutely. Whatever you want, Nana-ya. You name it, and it’s yours.” He brushed his thumb gently across her cheek, his touch as tender as ever. “I’m at your service, baby.”

Luna let out a soft laugh, barely more than a breath, but it was enough to make Jeonghan’s heart swell. “You’re so ridiculous,” she muttered, her voice carrying that familiar affection she always had for him, even when she was exhausted.

“And you love me for it,” Jeonghan replied with a smirk, his tone teasing but undeniably affectionate. He knew how to pull the smallest reactions from her, knew exactly what to say to keep her grounded, to make her feel seen and cherished.

“I do,” Luna whispered, her voice soft but certain, her eyes fluttering closed once more as she relaxed completely into his embrace. She let out a deep, tired breath, her fingers lacing tighter with his as if holding onto him was the only thing keeping her anchored.

Jeonghan’s gaze softened even further, his thumb still brushing over her hand in a slow, comforting rhythm. “My strong girl,” he murmured again, the words barely above a whisper. “You’re doing so, so well.”

The bustling lounge around them, the noise of the airport— it all faded into the background. And in that moment, it didn’t matter how long the flight would be, or how tired and worn out Luna felt.

As long as Jeonghan was there, holding her, whispering words of comfort in her ear, she knew she’d be okay.

Because with him, nothing else mattered.

As they waited for their plane, Jeonghan held her close, his presence as steady and unwavering as ever.

The world could wait.

For now, nothing mattered but her.

Jeonghan stayed glued to Luna’s side from the moment they boarded the plane. He didn’t leave anything to chance. From the way her seatbelt clicked softly around her, to how he made sure she ate the light meal they were served, his eyes were always watching her.

Jeonghan's hand lingered on her shoulder, his thumb grazing the fabric of her sweater as he asked in that quiet, calming voice of his, “Comfortable?”

Luna nodded, the fatigue weighing heavily on her bones. But even though her body cried for sleep, Jeonghan was already one step ahead, adjusting the small blanket over her legs and shoulders, cocooning her in warmth. He tucked it gently under her chin, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. “Sleep,” he whispered, his tone low and velvety. “I’ll wake you up when we land.”

She mumbled something incoherent in reply, but Jeonghan wasn’t deterred. He adjusted her pillow and gave a soft, satisfied hum when she finally closed her eyes.

Every slight movement on the plane— the ding of the overhead lights, the sound of people shifting in their seats— he shielded her from it all, his focus entirely on her comfort.

Hours passed and the city of Los Angeles glittered beneath them, the sprawling lights blinking like tiny jewels as the plane touched down.

Jeonghan never let go of Luna’s hand, guiding her through the throng of people in the airport, his hand firm and steady on her back. He had seen the earlier signs, the slight tremble in her hands, the way her breath had hitched at the thought of another crowded, overwhelming moment. And he wasn't about to let her go through that again.

They moved swiftly, his arm looped protectively around her waist, his pace matching hers as they wove their way through LAX. Luna leaned into him, her steps faltering only slightly, and though no one said it aloud, Jeonghan was the anchor she clung to.

When they reached the van that would take them to the stadium for rehearsal, Jeonghan cast her a long look, his brow furrowed in silent question. “You okay?” His voice, though soft, was insistent.

Luna nodded, too stubborn to let the exhaustion speak for her. She was tired and sick, but there was no way she would admit it— not when she had been working so hard for this specific performance— it was the reason she was sick in the first place.

The moment they stepped into the stadium, the rest of the members hovered around her. They could see it in her eyes— the flu that clung to her like a shadow— but Luna? She just waved them off with a tired smile, ignoring their concerned stares. Even when they hesitated to let her rehearse, insisting that she should sit this one out, Luna remained firm.

"I’d rather break all my bones than not perform," she said quietly but with enough determination that no one dared challenge her not even Seungcheol who could see the desperation in her eye.

And so, the rehearsal began.

Luna danced with a fierce precision, her every movement sharp and in sync with the music. Despite her voice being raspier from the flu, she hit all the notes, her performance flawless.

To anyone watching, it was as though nothing was wrong.

She was perfect.

But Luna didn’t feel perfect.

She could sense every flaw, every small imperfection that gnawed at her like an itch she couldn’t scratch. The cough that threatened to break through at any moment, the aching in her muscles that slowed her just enough to frustrate her beyond reason. Her mind spiraled as she rehearsed, the frustration coiling tightly in her chest, threatening to break her.

During a break, she paced across the stage, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts. The stress, the pressure, the illness— it was all too much, and she could feel it mounting inside her like a pressure cooker ready to explode.

Jeonghan watched her silently from across the stage, his brow furrowed as he took in every minute detail— the way her fingers flexed, the way she bit her lower lip in frustration.

He knew her too well.

He could see it— how close she was to breaking both physically and mentally.

And as they made their way back to the hotel after rehearsal, Jeonghan remained silent, his eyes trained on her, sensing the inner turmoil she tried so hard to hide.

Luna, of course, could feel him watching her.

Jeonghan always knew, always could tell when something was wrong. It annoyed her, but in the same breath, she loved him for it. She loved that he could read her thoughts, even the ones she tried to bury. And she knew, as soon as they walked through that hotel door, that he would corner her about it.

The second they entered her room, silence filled the space. Luna barely made it two steps inside before Jeonghan was there, gently spinning her around to face him. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs tenderly brushing against her flushed cheeks, his eyes soft and full of understanding.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice like a gentle caress. Luna blinked up at him, her doe eyes shimmering with the unshed tears that threatened to spill.

Jeonghan’s gaze softened further, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he stroked her skin.

He didn’t need to ask. He didn’t need to say anything. He already knew.

Before Luna could say a word, Jeonghan pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in a tight, comforting embrace. The moment his arms enveloped her, the dam inside her broke. She melted against him, her body shaking as the tears finally poured out.

All the pain, all the frustration, all the doubt— she let it all go in that moment, burying her face in his chest as her sobs echoed softly against him.

Jeonghan held her, his hand running soothingly up and down her back. He didn’t shush her, didn’t tell her to stop crying. He just held her, letting her release every bit of the pent-up emotions she had been carrying for far too long.

When her sobs grew quieter, turning into soft sniffles and hiccups, he gently cooed to her, his voice as soft as velvet.

“You’re frustrated, hm? I know, baby. I understand,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “It’s okay to be tired. It’s okay to feel like this.”

Luna just cried harder, her hands clutching the fabric of his shirt as she let it all out.

She didn’t need to say anything— Jeonghan understood it all.

“I’m here,” he continued, his voice soothing as he rocked her gently. “I know it’s hard. But you don’t have to be perfect, okay?”

Slowly, he scooped her up in his arms, cradling her against his chest as he carried her over to the bed. He sat down, settling her in his lap, his arms still wrapped around her protectively. “Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered, brushing a tear-streaked strand of hair out of her face. “You’ve done enough. More than enough.”

Luna continued to cry softly, but the tension in her body began to ease as Jeonghan rocked her gently, his lips pressing soft kisses to her temple. “.You’re the strongest person I know, and I love you for that.”

His words were soft, comforting, and firm. The way he doted on her, the way he held her like she was the most precious thing in the world— it was everything she needed. Everything she didn’t know she needed until now.

“I’ve got you,” Jeonghan whispered, his voice laced with tenderness as he continued to hold her close. “I’ve always got you.”

And at that moment, as Luna clung to him, feeling the weight of her frustrations slowly lift, she knew that no matter how hard things got, Jeonghan would always be there, holding her, understanding her, loving her.

Just like he always had.

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, surrounded by a silence that wasn’t empty but filled with everything unsaid.

The soft hum of the air conditioner was the only noise in the room, punctuated by Luna’s occasional sniffles and quiet hiccups, each one making Jeonghan’s hold on her tighten ever so slightly.

His fingers traced comforting patterns along her back, and every now and then, he hummed softly— a sound as soothing as a lullaby— cooing, “Shh, it’s okay,” whenever she let out a shaky breath. He pressed gentle kisses to the crown of her head, his voice warm, melting the edges of her pain.

After a few minutes, when her crying had slowed and her breathing evened out, Jeonghan pulled back slightly, tilting her chin up to meet his eyes. “Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as if he were afraid that speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile peace they’d built around them.

He didn’t push, didn’t rush her. He simply waited, his thumb grazing her cheekbone in the softest, most patient of motions. His eyes were full of understanding, holding a quiet strength she could lean into.

Luna looked up at him, her eyes searching his face, and she knew. She couldn’t keep anything from him. She never could.

She let out a long sigh, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt for stability, and then the words tumbled out. “I hate being sick,” she began, her voice raw, the vulnerability clear in her tone.

“I know, baby,” Jeonghan murmured, his voice laced with gentle affection. His thumb continued to trace slow circles on her cheek, grounding her as she spoke.

“I hate feeling…weak. I hate that I can’t keep up, that I’m slowing everyone down,” she continued, her words rushing now as if she’d been holding them back for too long. “And I hate feeling like a burden.”

Jeonghan’s gaze softened, but before he could say anything, Luna pressed on. “You know how much I hate that feeling, right? It reminds me of…of the early years. When people would call me names and isolate all my mistakes, just because I am the only girl.” Her voice cracked at the last part, and Jeonghan’s heart ached for her.

He remembered those days all too well— how Luna had carried the weight of others' expectations and criticisms, how she had tried to be everything to everyone and in the process had nearly crumbled under the pressure.

“I know,” Jeonghan whispered again, his voice laced with a protective tenderness. He shifted slightly so he could cup both sides of her neck with his hands, his thumbs brushing along her jawline. “I know, baby.”

Luna swallowed hard, the memories of those early years washing over her. “And now, I feel like I can’t let that happen again. My pride won’t let me. My ego won’t let me. I have to be perfect, always, and it’s— it’s too much.” She paused, her breathing uneven as she fought to gather her thoughts. “The pressure— it’s crushing me. And sometimes, I just…I feel too sensitive, too soft for all the noise, you know? For everything.”

“I’m not as strong as I pretend myself to be.” Her voice wavered as she said it, and she glanced up at Jeonghan, her eyes wide and full of uncertainty.

Admitting this to anyone else would have been impossible.

But Jeonghan? He was the only person on the planet she could admit that to.

The only person who made her feel safe enough to bare her soul.

Jeonghan listened silently, his hands never leaving her neck, his fingers caressing the soft skin there in gentle, calming strokes. His eyes never left hers, and in that moment, Luna knew— he wasn’t judging her, wasn’t frustrated with her. He was just there, solid and steady, giving her all the time she needed.

He took a few seconds after she finished, gathering his thoughts, his eyes never wavering from hers. And then, with a tenderness that made Luna’s heart ache, he spoke. “You don’t have to be perfect, you know that?” His voice was soft, yet firm— an anchor in the storm of her emotions. “No one is perfect. Not me, not you, not anyone. And that’s okay.”

He brushed his thumb across her bottom lip, his gaze deep and thoughtful. “I don’t love you because you’re perfect, Jiyeon. I love you because you’re you. Unapologetically you. The good, the bad, the pretty, the ugly— all of it.”

Luna’s lip trembled, but Jeonghan smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re more than enough, baby. You always have been. I don’t need you to be anything other than who you are, right here, right now.”

Luna opened her mouth to protest, but Jeonghan cut her off, his voice gentle but insistent. “No, listen to me. Stop thinking like that. You’re not a burden. You never were.” His fingers slipped through her hair, his touch soft as he cradled her head in his hands. “You’re the strongest person I know. You’ve been through so much, and yet you’re still standing, still shining.”

“I don’t feel strong,” Luna mumbled, her voice thick with doubt as tears slowly fell out of her eyes.

Jeonghan shook his head, smiling at her with that knowing look as he wiped the tears away. “That’s because you don’t see yourself the way I do.” He tapped her nose lightly, making her blink in surprise. “I see someone who’s been fighting her whole life, someone who’s never backed down, even when things were hard.”

“But I—” Luna tried again, but Jeonghan cut her off with a teasing smirk.

“Ah, ah, no buts,” he teased, his voice a playful mix of softness and scolding. “You’re allowed to feel tired. You’re allowed to feel overwhelmed. But don’t for one-second think that makes you less amazing. You’re not supposed to carry everything on your own. I’m here, remember?”

Luna blinked up at him, her heart swelling at his words. “But what if I can’t—”

“Can’t what?” Jeonghan interrupted his tone light, yet filled with understanding. “Keep going? You’ve been keeping up just fine. Better than fine, actually.”

“But what if I don’t?” she whispered, her eyes filled with doubt.

Jeonghan’s smile softened, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Then you lean on me. That’s what I’m here for. That’s what we do for each other. Plus you have twelve more people out there who are more than willing to be your support— you can have your pick.”

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead, lingering there as he whispered against her skin, “You’re not alone, Nana-ya. Not now, not ever.”

Luna didn’t know how she’d survived this long.

For years, it had felt like she was running on fumes, each step forward met with resistance from her own mind, her own doubts. But now, as she lay in Jeonghan’s arms, her head against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing, she understood.

She was looking at one of the reasons why.

Jeonghan was her anchor.

Every smile, every whispered reassurance, every small touch had kept her grounded when she felt like she was unraveling.

Jeonghan made her feel as though the world was spinning just for her like nothing else mattered but the two of them in this moment.

How easily he could make her feel seen, cherished, and loved— it was terrifying how much she was still falling for him, and yet, she couldn’t help it.

The deeper she fell, the safer she felt, as if his love was a cushion that would catch her no matter what.

Luna felt him press another kiss to her forehead, and before she could protest, he shifted slightly, reaching for his phone on the nightstand. Her fingers slipped from his chest and lazily found his hand, playing with his long fingers as he allowed her to, his grip soft but ever-present.

Luna watched him silently, her gaze tracing the familiar contours of his face— the delicate slope of his nose, the gentle arch of his brow, the way his lips moved slightly as he prepared to speak into the phone.

He glanced down at her, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he watched her play with his fingers, but then his attention shifted back to the call. “Hey, hyung,” Jeonghan said, his voice smooth and composed, though there was a hint of urgency beneath his words.

Luna’s heart swelled at the sound— it was her favorite sound in the world, his voice. So full of warmth, so full of love.

“Yeah, Jiyeonie’s not feeling well… No, no, she’s okay, but I need you to pick up some things.” There was a brief pause as he listened, his eyes flicking down to Luna again as he continued to let her fidget with his hand. “Some medicine for the flu… Yeah, and get some chamomile tea too. It’s her favorite.” His smile widened slightly as he said that, knowing how much comfort it would bring her.

Luna looked up at him as he spoke, her mind swimming in the soft cadence of his voice. She remembered what he had said earlier, about seeing herself the way he saw her. That thought stayed with her, echoing in her mind like a gentle hum.

She wanted to know— desperately— what it would be like to love herself the way Jeonghan did. To see herself not as a burden, but as someone worthy of care, worthy of love, for all the good and bad, the ugly and the pretty. Because no one had ever loved her like he did.

“Yeah, and one more thing,” Jeonghan’s voice brought her back to the present. “Can you grab her food for dinner on the way, too? The Korean restaurant… the place she loves here— yeah, the one in Koreatown. Thanks, hyung. I owe you.” He ended the call with his manager, setting the phone down and turning back to her.

Jeonghan’s gaze softened as he took in the way she looked up at him, her eyes full of wonder and love.

“I’m gonna take care of you,” he said softly, his voice wrapping around her like a promise, a vow he intended to keep.

And he did.

The next hour passed in a blur of warmth and gentle care.

When the doorbell rang, Luna let out a soft whine as Jeonghan carefully untangled himself from her. He chuckled, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her temple. “I’ll be right back, angel. Don’t worry,” he reassured her, his tone playful yet filled with affection.

True to his word, Jeonghan returned moments later with two bags in hand. One was filled with medicine—painkillers, cold medicine, and everything else she needed to combat the flu. The other was heavier, the delicious aroma of her favorite takeout filling the room as he set it on the table. He helped her sit up, propping pillows behind her as he opened the containers.

“Come on, you need to eat,” he coaxed gently, handing her a set of chopsticks.

Luna smiled gratefully, the smell of the food making her realize just how hungry she still was, despite feeling sick. They ate in comfortable silence, the easy rhythm of their natural conversation punctuated by the clink of chopsticks and soft laughter.

As they finished the meal, Jeonghan moved to the small kitchenette in the hotel room and began preparing her favorite chamomile tea. Luna watched him from the bed, her body sinking deeper into the plush comforter. Even the simple act of him boiling water and steeping the tea felt like an expression of love— like everything he did was a way of showing how much he cared for her.

He returned to her side with the steaming mug, blowing on it slightly before handing it to her. “Here, this will help your throat.”

Luna took the mug from him, the warmth seeping into her hands as she took a slow sip. The tea was soothing, the familiar floral notes calming her from the inside out.

Jeonghan then reached for the medicine he’d asked for, placing the pills into her hand and watching carefully as she swallowed them.

“Good job, Nana-ya,” Jeonghan praised her, knowing how much she hated drinking medicines.

After she had finished, he set an alarm on his phone for her next dose, determined to make sure she stayed on track with her medication.

“You’re really babying me,” Luna teased, her voice still a little raspy from the congestion, but there was a smile in her tone.

Jeonghan shrugged, that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes as he responded, “What can I say? You’re my favorite person to take care of.”

Luna felt her heart flutter at his words, the warmth spreading through her chest. “I’m really lucky to have you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but Jeonghan heard it loud and clear.

“No,” he corrected, leaning in to press his lips against her forehead once more. “I’m the lucky one.”

The room was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, spilling in through the massive hotel windows that stretched from floor to ceiling.

Outside, the night sky was clear, and the moon hung like a silent guardian over the city below, casting an ethereal light across the room. Its glow painted the walls in silver, illuminating the quiet space where Luna and Jeonghan lay wrapped in each other’s arms.

Luna was curled into Jeonghan’s side, her head nestled against his chest, her body comfortably molded to his. Their legs tangled together under the covers, their shared warmth a cocoon that separated them from the world outside.

Jeonghan's hand rested on her back, his fingers moving in slow, gentle circles, the repetitive motion soothing her in a way only he could. With his free hand, Luna absentmindedly played with his fingers, her fingertips tracing the lines of his palm, their silent rhythm in sync, matching the slow rise and fall of their breathing.

The moonlight caught Luna’s eye, and from her place against Jeonghan, she stared out at it through the window, the silvery glow making the world seem calm and still. She watched as the moon floated in the vast expanse of the night sky, almost otherworldly in its beauty, and yet… so familiar. There was a quiet comfort in its light, a reminder of home, of memories that always seemed to resurface on nights like these.

Jeonghan noticed the shift in her attention. He felt the way her body relaxed even more against him, her breathing becoming deeper as her gaze remained fixated on the night outside. He followed her line of sight, but his focus quickly returned to her.

As Luna continued to gaze at the moon, Jeonghan found himself lost in a quiet, ironic admiration.

Here she was, completely mesmerized by the pale, glowing orb in the sky— and yet, to him, the real moon lay beside him, nestled in his arms.

Luna.

He watched the way her brown eyes glistened under the moonlight, their deep, warm color now reflecting the cool, silver light. Her expression was soft, almost dreamlike as if the light had cast a spell on her.

But Jeonghan knew better— it was she who had cast the spell on him.

He watched the way her brown doe eyes reflected the moonlight made them sparkle, turning her soft, innocent gaze into something more enchanting, almost siren-like, as though she were lost in thought, drawn into the beauty of the sky. Her pale porcelain skin, smooth and delicate, glowed under the moon’s light, and Jeonghan couldn't help but smile softly at the sight.

He took in every detail of her, from the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed to the faint dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose— something only visible up close, and he always found them endearing, a hidden piece of her beauty that not everyone got to see.

But he did.

He noticed everything.

The way her lips parted slightly as she lost herself in thought, the way her hair fell messily over her shoulder, catching the light in glittering strands.

Jeonghan admired her just as she admired the moon, realizing that to him, Luna was just as captivating— if not more so.

It was poetic, really, this silent moment between them.

As she gazed at the moon in the sky, Jeonghan found himself gazing at the moon in his arms.

Jeonghan admired her in silence, his heart swelling with affection. There was something so serene about Luna in moments like these, something that took his breath away every time.

She was beautiful in ways she didn’t even realize— imperfections that made her perfect to him.

As he continued to trace slow circles on her back, he vowed silently that he’d show her. He’ll make her see how perfect she is. How she’s so much more than she thinks.

The silence between them was comfortable, the quiet hum of the city outside a distant sound they barely noticed. Then, breaking the stillness, Luna’s soft voice filled the air, her eyes never leaving the moon.

"My mom loves the moon," she said quietly, her voice almost wistful.

Jeonghan’s eyes softened at the mention of her mother. He reached up with his free hand and gently brushed a stray hair off her face, tucking it behind her ear with a tenderness that made her heart skip a beat. "I know she does," he murmured in response, his voice low and gentle. "You told me before."

A small smile tugged at Luna’s lips, still staring up at the moon as if it held all the secrets of the universe. "She said if she wasn’t a ballerina, she would’ve been an astronaut," Luna giggled softly, a sound that made Jeonghan’s smile widen.

He loved it when she talked about her family— her face always lit up with a kind of soft nostalgia. Jeonghan listened, his hand continuing to move in gentle patterns on her skin, offering her the quiet comfort she needed.

"She used to tell me," Luna continued, her voice light with memory, "that she would talk to the moon and make wishes to it."

Jeonghan smiled at that, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on her back. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice just as soft.

Luna nodded, the movement subtle as her head remained resting on his chest. “I remember telling her she sounded crazy,” she chuckled, her laughter warm and full of affection.

Jeonghan’s eyes sparkled with playful mischief, and before Luna could react, he poked her side, his fingers finding her waist. "No, you didn’t," he teased, his voice playful.

Luna squealed, a burst of laughter escaping her as she squirmed slightly, turning to pout up at him. Her lips jutted out in an adorable frown as she met his teasing smile. "I did!" she insisted, her voice filled with mock indignation.

Jeonghan grinned down at her, his eyes twinkling as he admired the way her cheeks flushed, her pout softening into a smile. He was always so easily captivated by her— by the smallest details, the little quirks she didn’t even know she had.

Luna shifted her gaze back to the moon, her voice quieting as she spoke again. “She loved it so much, she named me after it.” Her words were almost whispered, and there was a reverence in her tone, as if the name held all the weight of her mother’s love.

Jeonghan’s chest tightened with affection. His eyes drifted between her and the moon outside, and a gentle smile tugged at his lips.

It was fitting, he thought, that Luna was named after the moon.

Just like the celestial body that lit up the darkest nights, she illuminated every part of his life, even the pieces he didn’t know needed light.

“Did you know,” Jeonghan broke the silence, his voice soft, “that the moon isn’t perfectly round?”

Luna raised an eyebrow at his sudden trivia, curiosity and amusement flickering in her eyes as she glanced up at him. “I did know that, nerd,” she teased, her tone playful as her lips curved into a smile.

Jeonghan chuckled, his playful side emerging as he stuck out his tongue and ruffled her hair. “If you knew that, then that makes you a nerd too, nerd.”

Luna let out a soft whine, quickly removing his hand from her head— not because she cared about him messing up her hair, but because she didn’t want to let go of his hand. She hated losing that connection, even for a second.

Jeonghan chuckled again, his tone softening as he cooed gently, “Okay, alright, I’m here.” He wrapped his arms more securely around her, pulling her even closer to him, and she let out a content sigh, her body relaxing once more into his embrace.

After a beat, Luna broke the silence, her voice soft but curious, “What was your point?”

Jeonghan hesitated for a second, his gaze lingering on her face, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. He cupped her face, the warmth of his palm grounding her. “The moon is full of imperfections,” he said, his voice tender, almost reverent.

Luna softened at his words, knowing exactly where he was going with this.

He was trying to prove his point, his way of telling her she was enough, even with her insecurities and doubts.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

She felt her chest tighten, but not in the panicked way it had at the airport. This pounding sensation was different. It was calm, steady, and tethered to him. She could feel her heart beating in sync with his, the rhythm of their shared breaths filling the space between them.

Jeonghan’s voice drew her back to the moment. “But people like your mom,” he continued, his eyes locking onto hers, “they still talk to it, still look for it when they can’t find it. And they still love it... and it still shines, regardless.”

Her eyes welled up with tears again, her heart aching at how deeply she loved him in that moment. No one had ever made her feel so seen, so deeply understood. The way he cherished her, imperfections and all, made her want to cry and laugh at the same time.

Jeonghan's hand gently wiped away a tear before it could fall, his expression soft but serious. “You’re no different, Jiyeonie,” he murmured, his voice full of affection. “I still talk to you, I still look for you when I can’t find you. And I still love you… and you still shine, regardless.”

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Her heart clenched at his words, and she could feel that familiar pounding again, not the anxious panic from before, but something far more peaceful— like her heart was trying to tell her that everything was okay.

The way his heart beat in time with hers soothed her, anchoring her. The tears slipped freely now, no longer held back by the dam she’d built around her emotions.

Jeonghan's expression shifted as he noticed her tears, his lips curling into a soft smile as he tried to lighten the mood. “But…” he said, drawing out the word as if he was about to reveal something serious.

Luna blinked up at him, her eyes still glassy, wondering where he was going. He smirked playfully. “One thing you won’t have in common with the moon is… being lonely.”

She furrowed her brow, trying to follow his train of thought. Before she could ask, he leaned in, his voice low but teasing, “You have me, my moon.”

That was it.

The floodgates opened again, but this time she chuckled through her tears, pushing him playfully. “You’re a nerd,” she whined, sniffling, “and a sap.”

Jeonghan laughed at that, his whole face lighting up with amusement. He reached out and wiped her face gently, his fingers brushing away the stray tears. “Aww, my little crybaby,” he teased her in baby talk, cooing at her like he was speaking to a child. “C’mon, no more tears, okay?”

Luna pouted, swatting at his hand, “Stop making me cry then!” Her voice wavered, a mix of frustration and affection, but even as she said it, she couldn’t help but smile.

Jeonghan grinned, unbothered by her playful complaint. “Oh, I’m sorry, is my love too overwhelming for you?” He teased, laughing softly as she glared at him half-heartedly.

“Shut up,” she muttered, though there was no real bite in her voice. Instead, she let herself melt into him again, feeling safe, loved, and seen.

Without warning, his fingers brushed her lips, the pad of his thumb grazing the soft curve of her mouth. Her breath hitched slightly at the unexpected tenderness of the touch, her pulse quickening.

The sensation was gentle, yet electrifying, as if his touch alone sends sparks dancing across. He traced the outline of her bottom lip slowly, deliberately, as though memorizing its shape.

Luna's heart pounded, and she felt the world narrow to just the two of them at that moment. Jeonghan's fingers moved with an almost featherlight touch, teasing yet reverent. His eyes flicked from her lips back to her eyes, and without a word, he began leaning closer, his breath mingling with hers.

Just as his lips were about to capture hers, Luna ducked her head, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. Jeonghan paused, clearly confused, his brow furrowing as he tried to understand what had just happened.

"You seem to forget," Luna mumbled against his skin, her voice muffled, "that I'm sick."

Jeonghan blinked, his large hand instinctively finding its place at the nape of her neck. He gently pulled her back, cupping her face so she had no choice but to look at him again. "No, I didn't forget," he replied, his tone laced with quiet confidence as he leaned in once more.

But Luna swerved again, her hand shooting up to block him as she glared at him, eyes firm but still soft. "Han! You're gonna get sick," she scolded, her voice a mix of exasperation and concern.

Jeonghan's brow quirked upward in challenge, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk. "Okay... and?" His eyes twinkled with amusement, clearly unconcerned.

Luna sighed, knowing this was a battle she was likely going to lose, but she pressed on. "Cheollie is gonna kill us both if we both end up sick— you know how he worries."

Jeonghan chuckled softly, clearly unimpressed by the argument. "It's worth the risk," he murmured, leaning in again to kiss her, but Luna pressed her palm against his chest, stopping him just short.

She was on her back now, and Jeonghan was sitting up over her, his arm braced on one side of her head, the other hand gripping hers firmly, yet gently. His touch was grounding, but there was a playfulness in his movements, a slow, deliberate tension in the way he held her still, his eyes never leaving hers.

"There's no guarantee I'll catch it, Nana-ya," he said softly, his voice low, the teasing lilt clear.

Luna bit her lip, shaking her head as her fingers curled against his chest. "Hannie— I can guarantee a hundred percent you'll catch it. It's already a risk that we're breathing the same air right now." Her eyes glinted with a mix of playfulness and worry as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer despite herself.

Jeonghan pouted dramatically, his expression boyish and unconvincing. "What makes you say that?" he asked, raising his brow as though daring her to argue further.

"Because you're you, Yoon Jeonghan," Luna retorted, her voice light, teasing. "You might have a weaker immune system than me." Her smile was cheeky, but her gaze was tender.

Jeonghan's jaw dropped in mock offense, his eyes narrowing as if deeply insulted.

"Says the girl who's already sick!" he shot back, his voice playfully accusatory.

"Exactly!" Luna exclaimed, triumphant. "Which is why you're gonna be a good boy and move to your side of the bed and leave the kisses to a minimum until I get bett–”

Her sentence was cut off abruptly as Jeonghan, with a swift and determined motion, cupped her neck with one hand and pulled her to him, capturing her lips in a kiss that left no room for protest. The warmth of his mouth on hers was intoxicating, the softness of his lips moving with an easy confidence that made her head spin.

Luna's defenses crumbled instantly. Her hands that had been pushing him away moments ago now gripped the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer as she melted into him.

The kiss was slow and deliberate, Jeonghan's lips moving against hers with a rhythm that left her breathless. He smiled against her mouth, his smirk felt more than seen, and it sent a thrill down her spine.

The sensation of his lips was dizzying, a perfect blend of softness and firmness, a touch that was both teasing and sure. It was like he was savoring the moment, dragging it out, knowing he had won this small victory.

Every movement, every shift of his mouth against hers felt like a carefully calculated move, designed to make her give in, and she was powerless to resist.

When they finally pulled away, Luna was speechless, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts as she tried to gather her thoughts. Her lips tingled, the remnants of the kiss lingering like a warm haze.

Meanwhile, Jeonghan leaned back slightly, a smug grin tugging at his lips, his eyes alight with amusement.

"Well," he began, his tone teasing and oh-so-condescending, "looks like someone didn't mind that too much." He winked at her, his voice dropping into a sing-song tone as he added in baby talk, "Aww, is my sick little Jiyeonie all flustered now?"

Luna gaped at him, still trying to recover, before shoving him playfully. "You're the worst," she muttered, though her voice lacked any real venom.

She couldn't deny it— he had won, and they both knew it.

Luna shook her head at Jeonghan’s smug expression, her chest still fluttering from the lingering kiss. “You’re absolutely insufferable, you know that?” she muttered, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed any irritation she tried to muster.

Jeonghan let out a low chuckle, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Mmm, but you love me for it,” he teased, leaning down to rest his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the intimate space between them.

She huffed, half-heartedly shoving him again, but this time her hand stayed on his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “I never said that,” she replied, her voice soft, and playful, though the affection in her eyes was impossible to hide.

“Didn’t need to.” His voice dropped to a near whisper, the teasing edge softening into something tender as he shifted slightly, his arm wrapping protectively around her waist. “It’s written all over your face, Jiyeonie.”

Luna felt her cheeks heat under his gaze, her usual quick wit failing her as she looked up at him. “Shut up,” she murmured, burying her face in his chest to avoid the intensity of his stare, though she couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped her.

Jeonghan hummed in response, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head as his fingers began tracing soothing patterns on her back. “Mmm, whatever you want,” he whispered, his voice low and lazy now as if the teasing energy from before had melted into something softer, more intimate.

The conversation slowed, their words becoming fewer and farther between as they lay together, wrapped up in the warmth of each other’s presence. Their voices were no more than whispers in the quiet of the night, the sound of their breaths mingling with the gentle hum of the city outside.

“We still haven’t told the guys about us… been too busy,” Luna mumbled sleepily, her eyelids growing heavy as her head rested comfortably against Jeonghan’s chest.

Jeonghan smiled faintly, his fingers still lazily tracing over her skin. “We’ll figure it out. We always do,” he murmured, his voice a soothing lull in the quiet room.

“Hmm,” Luna hummed, her arms tightening slightly around him. “I don’t want you getting sick…”

Jeonghan’s lips brushed her forehead again, his voice barely audible as he whispered, “Nothing matters but you, Jiyeonie.”

There was something about the way Jeonghan said it— soft, sure as if it was the simplest truth in the world. The tenderness of the moment wrapped around them like a blanket, warm and safe, and Luna’s heart swelled in response.

“Don’t say that because I could say the same thing about you,” Luna whispered it out.

The words hung in the air, delicate and true, as the weight of the day began to pull them both under.

Jeonghan’s hand brushed through her hair, the same tender care present in every touch, every glance. It was the way he held her when the world became too much, the way he listened without needing words. It was the sweet nothings they exchanged, the unspoken promises, the quiet love that bloomed in the spaces between their conversations.

Their breathing fell into sync, the quiet rhythm of their bodies melding together in the shared silence. Jeonghan’s hand slowly stilled on her back, his thumb brushing against her side in slow, sleepy strokes. Luna’s eyelids fluttered, her mind drifting in and out of consciousness, her body relaxing fully into his embrace.

The warmth of Jeonghan’s presence, the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear, grounded her as her breathing slowed, her body sinking deeper into the bed. Luna’s last thought before sleep took her was the gentle comfort of his arms around her, the soft press of his lips on her hair, and the way his fingers felt like home as they held her close.

The sincerity in his words wrapped around her like a blanket, and Luna knew— no matter how hard things got, no matter how overwhelming the world outside could be, here, with him, she would always be safe.

She would always be loved.

And in the quiet of that truth, she let herself finally surrender to sleep, knowing that in this moment, nothing else mattered but them.

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUEST AND ASK ME ANYTHING!

: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡ - lunaఌ

Taglist: @yeoberryx @minminghao @angie-x3 @jennwonwoo @k13endall @heeseungthel0ml @chisskaa @megumi2020 @yoonzzziino @lllucere @smh-anon @yveclipse @randomworker @bunnystrm @iamawkwardandshy @gratefulbunny1 @bmo-bri @syren-ash @megseungmin @multiplums @unlikelysublimekryptonite @night-storm7 @cookiearmy @seokqt @btskzfav @billboard-singer @junhuisworld @caturdayvibe @coralbatlampzonk @sof1eya @lyraea

[trulyhblue]

please can we get a caitlin foord fic 🙏

Bug and Bingo

Caitlin Foord x Daughter! Child! Reader, Lauren Hemp x Child! Reader, AWFC + CITY x Child! Reader.

Warnings: pure fluff, coarse language, bit long for what I hoped.

A/N — was feeling cute. So sorry if you don't understand what Bluey is. Also, not really based on the most recent match as there are several changes.

__________________________

You were waiting for your mama to finish the bunny loops on her shoelaces, humming the Bluey theme song with your Bingo toy in one hand and Gunnersauris in the other.

You swung your legs from your mama’s cubby, where your coat was pooled around your waist. Auntie Stephy was talking to Beth, and Auntie Lani wasn't in the Changing Rooms, even though she was here, playing today.

Your mama told you that Auntie Lani was playing for the other team, and it wasn't the same as when you were back with all of your other Aunties. It was the same as when mama versed Macca and Mini, and Sammy — but Sammy was watching Macca and Mini’s game instead of playing, which you aren't quite sure you understand.

Sammy’s wife-but-not-girlfriend — you couldn't remember the name — Kristie also played for West Ham, but she only picks you up when you're running away from Sammy trying to tickle your tummy.

You also remember seeing Harper last week, showing her your Bingo toy, and playing hot potato with her in the stands. You love Harper, she is your only friend who knows about Bluey, and she's Australian like you. In Kindergarten, you and Harper are the only ones who speak the way you do. Your mama always asked you whether your classmates would tease you, but Harper would poke her tongue out at them, and you’d ignore them and play with Harper instead.

Your Gunnersauris was lying next to your coat, and your Bingo toy was snuggled under your arm. You were wearing your mama’s Tillie’s jersey because you liked it more than the one she was wearing now. Your Auntie Ky would call the other jersey the Cotton Candy Jersey, and you liked Cotton Candy, so you wore that Jersey when everyone else was. You liked wearing your mama’s jersey because it had your last name on the back too, and number nine was your favourite number so that made it the best. Mama said you were born on the ninth of September, which is the ninth month, so you are very special.

But the most special thing about today was that you were in charge of the Lolly Jar.

“Mama, when we going?” You asked, patting Bingo’s head, hoping she was comfortable where she was. You were slouching against the wall, watching Mama pull up her socks over her shin pads.

She looked up at you and smiled, using her thumb to graze your cheek. “Few minutes, Bug, you excited?”

You nodded your head. “Wanna see Auntie Lani and Mary. Will they sit with me with the Lolly Jar?”

“No, Bug, they sit with the other City girls.” Mama picked you up, propping you onto her hip, jutting you slightly. “But you're sitting with Stephy for the first half, then Vivid and Laura when Stephy comes on. But if I let you take care of the Lolly Jar, you've got to share, okay?”

You weren't too keen on sharing your lollies, especially your strawberry and cream ones, but Laura liked the Sour candy that was too hard for your teeth, and Vivi said that she thinks Snoep is bad for your teeth, so you think you’ll survive.

“Mama want a Lolly?” You asked, motioning towards the jar filled with lollies of all sorts.

“No, thank you, Bub.” Mama laughs, kissing your cheeks and tucking away your fly-away hairs.

“Can I have a lolly, Bug?” Your little body turned to face the voice.

Ky Ky was walking towards you with a warm grin, her hand coming up to fiddle with your collar. You giggled when her finger came in contact with your neck, sending giggles to echo through the room.

“Ky ky no manners.” You spoke, nuzzling your head further into Mama’s neck. Your mama laughed at Kyra’s dejected countenance.

“Yes, you're right,” The younger Aussie player admitted, shaking her head and pretending to act frustrated at herself for forgetting such a thing.

You, however, didn't catch onto her sarcasm, feeling a wave of empathy surging over you. You pulled your arms away from Mama, reaching out and whining for Ky Ky to hold you instead. Your mama handled her over, and you gripped the back of Kyra’s shirt as she danced with you in her arms.

“Ky Ky ‘gonna score today?” You asked, feeling the nip of the cool air shiver down your spine as the girls started exiting into the tunnel.

“I’ll try my best for you, Bub. You've just got to cheer extra loud for me, deal?” Ky held you impossibly close to her chest, her arm protecting you from feeling flimsy, and her body cradling the front half of your body from the cold.

“Will give you extra lollies and cuddles if you do.” You could see Leah at the front of the line with her big red ribbon around her arm, though Mama had told you it was an armband. You told your mama that they should do ribbons instead, hoping she could change it soon because ribbons were very pretty.

You had two yellow ribbons in each of your pigtails, which Lessi had done for you on the bus ride. Lessi was the best cuddle buddy, after Mama and Ky. She would rub and scratch your back with her nails gently, and let you trace her tattoos on her hands. Lessi was your favourite cuddle buddy, even if she wasn't the best. She was always the one you fell asleep on, and she’d always share her blanket with you when you sat next to her on the bench.

“If you don't score, I’ll just give you cuddles.” You muttered, readjusting your position in Kyra’s arms. She helped you by lifting you just above her hip, your legs locked around her waist. “Cuddles are never not allowed.”

“That's very sweet, Bub, thank you.”

“That's okay. Love you, Ky Ky.” You added, not noticing your Mama coming up behind you.

“Hey, Bub, time to put on your coat.” She said, slowly threading your small arms through the holes of the thick fabric. While your body moved without fuss, you made sure to whine a little loudly and huff to show how much you didn't like wearing your coat.

The people who loved your mama — not as much as you — and watched her play with her teammates weren't always allowed to see you. The people in the stands would inevitably catch sight of your chubby cheeks and small figure huddled in a mound of warm clothes and cuddles, whether that be during the lineup or when you were sitting on the bench.

Mama didn't like people seeing your face on their phones. She told you that cameras could cause you to feel big girl emotions, and while you were a big girl, Mama always tried her best to keep you discreet.

You didn't care all that much. Lessi would let you take funny videos with filters on your face when you talk with her on long bus rides. Stephy and Bethy would do dancing videos with you, which you love. So overall, you weren't too concerned with missing out on all that much.

But sometimes you felt like you wanted to be normal. You were cold, obviously, and the coat would warm you up, but you knew your mama wanted you to put it on for a different reason.

“Wanna stay with Ky for standing, Mama. Don't want the coat.”

Kyra acted like she had zoned out of the conversation, not sure how to manage a discussion that sounded so innocent, but had a deeper meaning behind it.

“As long as Kyra’s okay with it then you can.” Caitlin took your hand, squeezing it and zipping up your coat. “But you need to keep this on or else you’ll get a stuffy nose and a sore throat.”

“Still want my Lolly Jar.” You mumbled, not entirely content with the defeat in your situation.

Your Mama nodded, swiping your cheek. “Auntie Steph has got it in her lap for when you sit with her, alright?”

While you weren't awfully content with her decision, you sulked as you let the sleeves cover your body, hearing the zip dousing your body in a new-found warmth. You would never admit that the sensation was relieving, but you chose to snuggle back into Kyra’s chest when both teams started walking out into the crisp air.

There were a few smiles exchanged between the teams, but you understood that they both wanted to win and have the ball more than the other. Your yellow jersey stuck out under your coat, your pigtails and their bright yellow ribbons drawing more attention to yourself as usual. Your face was clasped into Ky’s neck, her body bobbing you up and down in swift motions. The crowd was beaming in excitement as everyone shook hands. You were too busy playing with the hem of Kyra’s jersey to notice the people rubbing your back and smiling.

“Cuddles now?” You asked your Ky Ky, prodding to the comfy chairs where Steph, and Kim were chatting in hushed whispers. Wally and Cloé were laughing with Stina and Laia, but you couldn't find your Auntie Vivi anywhere.

“I'm playing with your mama, Bug,” Ky spoke, rubbing your back as the two of you trudged over to the bench. “You're gonna show everyone your Lollies, aren't you? Mama said Stephy has the jar.”

You knew that Mama only gave you your lolly jar when you were feeling restless before a game. Sometimes, you just want to be attached to someone, whether that be Mama, Ky, or especially Vivi. You weren't used to not having your Auntie by your side during matches. When your Aunties had sore knees, you would sit with them in the crowd, showing them Bingo and bouncing ecstatically in your seat when they’d play games with you.

Bethy always let you swing your legs, and Lau would squish your cheeks and play Bingo games with you. Lau would make you giggle when Lee was talking about the game, and you’d clamour into the blonde’s lap and babble on about how she was a nervous Nelly, cause that's what your Mama calls you when you go to school sometimes.

Bethy wouldn't always let you have your Lolly jar, even though your Mama gave it to you. She said that it made you wiggle more and wiggles were hard to get rid of. But Vivi would always slip you some strawberry and cream lollies when Bethy wasn't looking. She’d make sure you always had a handful of your favourites when Beth was Roo immersed in the game.

You loved your Vivi.

It wasn't too bad when Bethy left, because you still had Vivi, Lee, and Lau, but then Vivi left, and now Lee, and so Lau sits in the stands with other people, and Mama doesn't want to leave Laura to take of you by herself, especially when her knee was only just mending fully.

But Vivi must've hurt her knee again because you saw her and Lau sitting in the stands without you.

It made you even more restless knowing that neither Ky nor Viv was there to play with you. You loved all of your Aunties, but some of them didn't have cuddles like Ky.

“Hello, Bug!” You heard your Auntie Stephy say. Kyra was careful in sparing the last of your affection, kneeling in front of Steph and peeling you off her slowly.

You didn't answer your Aunt, feeling what your mama called big girl feelings when Kyra kissed your forehead and ran towards the team. You latched onto Steph, who was going to put you down beside her before you curled into her lap. She wrapped her arms over your small body, pulling her blanket over the top of both of you so that you were in a cocoon of warmth.

You grabbed Steph’s pointer finger and squeezed. Bingo was facing the grassy field while you had your head towards Lia.

“Are you playing with Mama today?” You asked, settling one of your arms over Lia’s lap.

Lia and your Mama were in love like Vivi and Beth, but Mama says that their friends now. You don't remember a lot without Wally living with you, but Wally wasn't your Mama like Mama was your Mama. You were Mama’s more than anyone else. Auntie Lani always called you Cait, and Auntie Macca would say that you were your Mama’s twin.

Lia was a very nice cuddle buddy. She read bedtime stories to you and let you sleep in her and Mama’s bed if Mama was already asleep.

But now Wally didn't live with you anymore, and the bed was a lot bigger without two cuddle buddies.

“I might be after the second half, but right now I'm here with you,” Lia answered, squeezing your flushed cheeks before drawing patterns on your hand.

You looked up at Steph, reaching for her face, and settling your hand on her cheek. “Where’s Lani and Flower?”

Wally and Kim laughed from either side of you. Mary’s real name wasn't Flower, but she was pretty like a flower, and you thought that Mary smelt like a flower too, so that's what stuck. You made the mistake of looking at your Mama’s team, unable to spot your Australian friends amidst the team.

“They're both on the bench, Bug.”

You peered across the seats around you, only finding Arsenal girls.

“Not this bench, darling.” Stephy shook her head. “Different one.”

“Why not all together?” You asked, folding your arms across your chest. The ball went out of play, and you forgot your question when you saw Mama retrieving the ball.

You squealed when your Mama waved, putting your hands in your mouth and blushing when one of the Lani-Flower teammates gushed at you in adoration.

The Lani-Flower teammate was blonde, and wore a ponytail very high on her head. While she wasn't someone you were particularly familiar with, you made the effort to wave meekly at her, feeling a blush film across your face when the woman waved back.

“Classic Hempo.” You heard someone say, and you wondered whether Hempo was your friend or not. She wasn't an Australian like you, because you had never seen her back home. Maybe she was one of Bethy’s friends, because when she yelled, she sounded a lot like her friends.

“Wanna give her one of my Lollies.” You announced, looking down at the jar that Steph had put on the floor, reaching down and using all of your strength to get it on your lap.

“Maybe after the game, Bug,” Steph spoke, opening the jar, and letting you pop one of the sweets into your mouth. “Lauren is playing at the moment. If you want, you can give her one at the very end, okay?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Who’s Lauren?”

Steph sighed, shaking her head with a soft smile. “The girl that just waved at you.”

“Hempo?”

“Yes, darling, Hempo.”

The game continued on for what felt like forever. No one was scoring goals, not even your Mama. Most of the girls on the bench had grown anxious leading into halftime, and now it was Steph who was playing with your hands as you watched both teams tread towards the Changing Rooms.

Kim was very scary at times, even when her scariness was directed at you. She was very, very stern, and sometimes you had to cover Bingo’s ears because what she was saying was not always appropriate for younger ears.

Lee was also letting out her frustration. Leah was definitely opposed to the lack of goals since she was encouraging all of the girls to get back out there and try harder. You wondered why the Lani-Flower Team was so hard to beat when Mary and Lani weren't even playing. You’d understand if they were on the field, but they must've had superpowers that made the team really good because they were on the bench that you couldn't see.

Leah had the big band around her arm — the one you thought should be a ribbon but wasn't. You wore your ribbons all the time, at home, school, games, everywhere. Mama would send photos to your Auntie Hayley all the time, showing how her legacy was proven charismatic on her daughter.

Hayley was someone you missed a lot, especially when she and Mama never versed each other. When you were in Australia, Hayley would do your hair, and she’d use her own special ribbons. She would spend a lot of time with you. She and Ellie Belly would go out with you on what they called ‘Big Girl Days’, where you’d play at the park, get ice cream, and go to the movies, all in one day. You loved Ellie Belly, she was as silly as you. She loved blowing raspberries on your tummy. She was always throwing you up in the air, giving your Mama a surprised face.

You wanted a Big Girl Day now, you thought to yourself. The weather in London wasn't nice. You liked swimming with Harper and Harley. You liked spending time with your Australian Aunties in the sun.

You were sitting in Lessi’s lap, keeping yourself still as she redid her hair. Your coat was left on your seat on the bench, but the Changing Rooms were nice and cosy so no one paid much attention. Your Mama was fixing her hair as well, something everyone seemed to do, so you paddled over to her and tugged on her shorts.

“Hold on a second, Bug,” Mama spoke, smiling down at you, patting the wispy bits of your hair behind your ears.

You didn't want to wait, so you sighed and waddled to the next available person.

You tugged on Katie’s shorts, latching onto her leg and beaming at the woman’s immediate reaction.

“Well, hello, Miss Yellow!” She uttered, jostling your bright-coloured jersey and fixing your ribbons.

“I'm not Miss Yellow!” You laughed loudly, swatting away her hand. “I'm Bug!”

“You're a bug and yellow?!” Katie’s eyebrows raised as she pretended to be shocked. Everyone looked on in adoration, but to you her shock was real. Your laughter emulsified. “That means you're a Bee!”

“No, I'm not a BumbleBee!” You grinned, clasping your arms around her neck, soaking in the way she held you close. “I'm just Bug!”

“Oh, you're bug!” Katie huffed, shaking her head and sighing. “You scared me, Bug. I thought you were a Bee.”

“A Bumblebee, Katie.”

“That's right, a Bumblebee.”

You huffed, deciding that you were just smarter. “You're so silly, Katie.”

Katie let you run over to Mama, who swung you playfully all the way to the bench again.

Everyone was coming back onto the pitch, and the refs blew their loud whistles so that they could start kicking the ball. Both teams were a little bit more aggressive in everything they did. Katie was pushing and getting shoved, and Hempo was doing the same. Another blonde Lani-Flower girl was getting angry at Katie, but the Refs didn't put up their naughty cards so the game went on.

It had been a little while since you were sitting alone on the bench with just Bingo and your Lolly Jar. You scanned the pitch again, wondering whether Hempo was, but couldn't find her. Everyone was warming up on the sidelines. Steph had told you to count how many lollies you could eat so that you were left with something to do.

But you were growing very bored when no goals were happening, and no one to talk to.

So, as your Mama always said, do what makes you happy.

So you did.

You clambered out of your seat, using your big muscles to lug the Lolly Jar with you. Everyone was still playing around you, but you knew that Lani and Mary were here somewhere.

Without thinking, you forget your coat in your chair.

You were careful with every step you took, making sure you were holding the Jar tight. You stopped and waited for people to pass by so you weren't in the way, and it didn't take long for Red Jerseys to turn into Blue ones.

You felt a little out of place with your bright yellow jersey, you thought that no one else knew what you were wearing. After a little while longer of trampling down the sideline, you found a similar bench to the Arsenal one, except there was not a blotch of red in sight.

It took you a few more steps until you shivered at the coolness. You felt silly for not remembering your coat like Mama told you, but you didn't want to leave your Lollies instead. Mama told you to always share your Lollies, so you were doing what she told you to do, just not everything.

You found a coat similar to yours alone on one of the seats. It looked very warm, and you wanted to be warm, so you put the jar down with caution and grabbed the jacket with ease, slipping it on like Mama had taught you.

It wasn't until you saw Mary being subbed on and a cautious hand grabbing your shoulder that you realised that you had one of your ribbons falling from your hair.

“Um, excuse me.” You heard a woman say, making your little head reel up. “I think you're wearing my jacket.”

The sight of Hempo — or Lauren, as Stephy said — sent you into shyness. Mama said you weren't allowed to talk to strangers, even if they seemed friendly and smiled. You didn't necessarily think of Hempo as a stranger, since Mama talked to her and Stephy knew her name, but you only knew her from today, so an introduction was needed in order for you to feel even remotely safe.

“Was cold.” You muttered, holding your Lolly Jar as tight as you could, making you realise that you had not only left your coat on the Arsenal Bench, but Bingo, too. “Sorry.”

This sent your big girl feelings over the edge. The combined factors of strangers, the loud noises of the crowd, your coldness, and no Bingo made your lips quiver and your eyes rimmed with tears. You struggled to put the Lolly jar down but did so in a hurry, avoiding Hempo’s eyes as you tried to shake off her jacket.

The blonde woman stood above you in shock, feeling a wave of guilt wash over her when tears flooded your cheeks. She hadn't meant to make you cry. She was just confused about why you were there, and not with Arsenal, and why you were wearing her coat instead of your own.

“Oh, no, I'm so sorry.” She spoke, shaking her head as she knelt on the floor, making sure you were okay with her being at your level. “You can keep my jacket, I swear. You're smart for staying warm—”

“—Mama says swearing is bad.” You retorted, tears drying the minute the blonde spoke. Sniffles fell from your nose. “Are you on the Lani-Flower’s team?”

Lauren looked at you incredulously. “The what?”

“My Auntie Lani and Flow— Fowler, is on that team,” You pointed onto the pitch, specifically Mary, who was carrying the ball down the wing. Lauren glanced across the field, noticing Mary had no clue about what was going on. She looked back at you and smiled meekly.

“Is your Mum or Dad in the crowd somewhere? I could always help you find them.”

The mention of a father made your eyebrows furrow. You had thought that Hempo had known your Mama, but apparently not.

“You were talking to my Mama just then!” You sighed, picking up your Jar and peeling off the lid. “I was sitting on Stephy’s lap when you waved at me.”

“What?” It took a beat for Hempo’s face to change, a flow of realisation painting her features. You popped a treat into your mouth. “Oh! You're Foord’s daughter! Sorry, wait-”

You watched as the woman kneeled down again, carefully using her hands to open the split of her jacket that covered your jersey. It revealed the bold Australian colours and emblem. You pivoted so that your shoulders showed off your last name.

“Want a Lolly?” You asked, holding out the heavy container.

“Sure… I guess.” Lauren hesitated but nodded after soaking in your adamant state. “I'm sorry for asking but… why are you over here?”

“I'm looking for Auntie Lani.” You stated, not bothering to ask the woman before making your way over to a spare seat. “Mama told me that I should share my Lollies, but my Auntie Stephy was warming up, and Kim is a little scary sometimes, and Wally was stretching, and Ky Ky was playing, so Flower and Lani were left.”

Lauren managed to understand your whines to help you up onto the chair, joining next to you. “Did Caitlin say you could come over here.”

“Um,” You pondered, slightly sheepish. “She didn't say no.”

“Oh,” Lauren replied, unable to conform to a solid response. “Um, do you want me to get Alanna for you, then?”

You thought to yourself for a moment, thinking about whether Hempo was nice enough to stay with you until you felt like moving again. You settled on a yes.

“No that's okay.” You spoke, leaving the Lolly Jar on your chair and moving into Lauren’s lap. “You can have more Lollies. Mama said I should share.”

Without thinking, Lauren shoved her hand down the jar, grabbed a handful of lollies and slowly popped them into her mouth one by one. She didn't know if keeping you with her was a good idea, especially after Laia shot a brilliant goal, sending City into the lead. Alanna was warming up, getting ready to go on, so no Australians could help her out.

You weren't affected by the score, too busy babbling on about how much you wanted some sort of Bingo that Lauren had no idea about. You were content on the woman’s knee, happy in the way she bobbed up and down rhythmically, similar to how Ellie Belly would when your Mama was in interviews.

You both fell into comfortable conversation, leading each other into new topics as the game went on. Lauren let you play with her hands, and you didn't mind how many strawberries and creams she was taking from your jar. No one from either team had noticed the two of you in your own little bubble.

Everyone except a man with a big camera and a microphone.

The English woman didn't know you well. She knew that Caitlin kept you away from the media and that you were a very private part of her life that she kept at bay. You were a bubbly child with a bright personality, she thought, but she also wondered whether you got yourself into trouble as often as it seemed.

Lauren knew the man from City’s media team. He was friendly, and nice to talk to, but she had never had the experience of a toddler in her arms to handle this kind of attention.

“Who might this be?” He spoke, holding the camera up to the both of you.

Before Lauren could answer, you swerved your front to face her chest, potent in the way you shoved your body away from the camera. Your Mama had taught you to do this from a very young age, and now it felt like second nature.

Lauren caught onto your worry almost instantly, shaking her head towards the kind man, waving his endeavours off.

The man must've caught on quickly, as the camera dropped as fast as it arrived. You kept your head buried into Hempo’s neck, curling your legs around her waist, thankful for the way she pulled your hood up.

“Don't worry, I don't like cameras all that much, either.” She cooed, rubbing your back in comforting circles, relieved at your tense figure softening as she did so. “Sometimes it's just good to talk without them, eh?”

“Yeah,” You muttered in agreement, pulling your head away slowly, taking your time to turn back around.

The game was coming to an end, heading into extra time, and you were feeling the effects of your long adventure hurling over your little body.

Arsenal were not playing to their strengths, and the frustration of their gameplay radiated in beams to everyone who watched.

You had just caught sight of Auntie Lani being subbed on before your eyes had drifted close and your breathing had evened. Lauren only noticed your deep slumber when the full-time whistle blew, and you made no more advancements towards your Lolly Jar.

Hempo tried extra hard to keep you sound as she curled her arms around you, lifting you into a cuddle, and walked towards her celebrating teammates and defeated rivals silently. With your hood still up and the blonde rubbing small patterns on your back, you held onto the woman peacefully, relishing the fatigue that had caught up to you.

Hempo had separated from her confused teammates — who were all questioning when Lauren ever had any affiliation with a child — and strolled over to the Arsenal bench, where a flurry of anxiety hit her straight.

Kyra was indefinitely pale. Wally and Leah were searching the parameters of the field. Katie was ridiculing fans, and Caitlin was an absolute wreck.

Beth was beside herself, Viv by her side, comforting her spouse with a strained expression herself.

A flooding red flushed Lauren’s face, the reality of the stress the girls in front of her were under hitting her like a truck. She was conflicted in keeping you sleeping and running over to announce that you were okay. She resulted in jogging cautiously, nearly dropping the Lolly Jar on the way.

Leah was the first to notice the young Lioness. “Lauren, what are you—”

The Arsenal Captain nearly collapsed at the sight of your tiny figure curled up in her arms, meeting the woman in the middle and calling out to the rest of the girls.

“Oh my fucking God, where was she?” Caitlin sighed, immediately taking you from Lauren’s chest and hugging the breath from your lungs.

You stirred out of your daze, surprised by the sound of your Mama’s voice and not Lauren’s.

“Mama swear.” You whispered, not comprehending the gravity of the situation as you found a new comfortable position in your Mama’s arms.

“She was just wandering around with her Lolly Jar, looking for Alanna and Mary,” Lauren spoke, her voice cracking at the amount of eyes on her. “I was with her the whole time. She just wanted to share her Lollies, and erm— she forgot her coat so— yeah… oh and something about Bingo—”

“Thank you so much,” Caitlin said, looking down at you and hugging you closer. “How long did you think she was by herself?”

“Oh, not long.” Lauren started. “I found her with my coat on, so she knew what to do with herself. But I made sure no one recorded her. I'm not sure about when she was alone though, sorry.”

“Don't be.” Caitlin sighed. “I'm just glad she was with someone.”

“Shared my Lollies, Mama.” You whispered out from her neck. “But I think we need more Strawberries and Cream.”

Katie came up behind you and Mama with your toy Bingo in her hands. She took off your hood and poked your cheeks. “I think that's enough lollies for you, Bumblebee.”

You took Bingo and hugged her, smiling like not a minute in the world had passed, content with the new friend you had made and the lollies you had eaten.

You hoped every match was like this.

________________________

[sinning-23]

To Breathe Underwater (Luffy x Mermaid!Reader)

Okay yall this is the first of many in a mermaid/siren series I decided to WRITE LIKE AN IDIOT LOL sorey I fell off and haven’t been active I feel like I’m going to crumble- like a strong breeze could take me outta this point.

Anyway I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: None

Water fills his lungs are he struggles against the still waters. This was the price to pay for his abilities. the ocean consuming him, weighing him down, pulling him into her cold embrace. It burns his nose and throat as he cough the last of his air into bubbles.

His eyes are begingin to close as he falls unconscious, flashes of light swirl around him. Though muffled from the water, he can hear what sounds like metal pieces clinking quietly. Warmth envelops him, arms wrapped around his body as he's pulled up.

What was this...Who was this. He forced his eyes open, the water making it a blurry sight but, it was definitely a who. And a very pretty who at that.

They were calm, eyes scanning his rapidly as her webbed fingers and iridescent hands twinkled in the light. She hold his face, his consciousness fading faster then ever, and with a single connection to lips she preaches air into him, swapping the water that filled with lungs for oxygen. Again and again and again, she breathes into him, slowly but surely swimming him up to the surface, to shore.

_____________

You can’t help but trace his face, the sun making his hair look shinier, and his face so much brighter. You try counting the freckles there, its seemingly impossible. He breaths slow, chest rising and falling and you trace the scar there. You’d never been this close to a human before....they're so delicate.

He coughs, the last remnants of water spilling from his lips as you gasp and flinch back. You can hear voices from afar but you don't move, far too worried about the human in front of you to care. You crawl back to him, pushing the wet hair from his face and cupping his cheeks after. He's missing something...

"Who are you?" His voice is raspy, yet concerned.

You shake your head, looking back to the water to see his hat floating. Bingo! You grab it, and set it over his face, leaning close to his ear before letting your name roll off your glossy lips.

He repeats it, a slow mantra of your name drips off his tongue as you slither back to the water.

"That was a mermaid! Luffy got saved by a mermaid!" Usopp gasps, pulling his captain up with a smile.

Of course, Luffy was still a bit delierous form the deamn near death experience, but he made a note to remember than name so he could properly thank the thing that saved his life.

You.

_6.5 months later_

Winter draws in and your tail was shed for a pair of limbs longer than your arms. It wasn't the first time you'd had this happen and it certainly would be the last. Every winter, a mermaid sheds their tail to seek warmth on land during the cold and snowy months. Then, in spring, when the first few flowers bloom and the tempurature rises, you return to sea.

Now, you were sitting in one of this villages many taverns, well, one of which mermaids like yourself have come for shelter for decades. The current owner had given you a nice room and some fresh clothes for the winter months and in return for giving you that you would provide entertainment.

So there you are, hair flowing over your shoulders, voice ringing sweetly across the space as customers, pirate or otherwise, indulge.

You hadn't realized that the table at the far left of the eatery had been occupied, and one of the guest simply couldn't tear his eyes away from you. You were so...familiar.

"Luffy you look like you’re burning holes through her, calm down. " Nami speaks, a smirk forming over he features seeing her Captains current state.

Luffy wasn’t very well versed in just etiquette but then again you didn’t really need that when you were a pirate. The content of his character was far more important than idk maybe not standing on a rich ladies table and requesting a boat from her.

Anyway, he snaps his gaze away from you and back to Nami. There you were, glittering under this mellow spotlight as your voice carried over sweet, diabetes inducing melodies and his heart can’t help but squeeze.

You’d saved his life, that’s something he’ll never let go, somehow feeling a pinch in debt to you. His eyes trail from the top of your head to the shoes on your feet. Usopp might have an answer for that….

“I swear she was a mermaid when she saved me. Usopp, you know a lot about those things, why is it that she has legs now?” He questions, leaning forward with a wide smile.

The man in question stammers for a moment trying to find the words but before he can even get some outlandish explanation out, the waitress just so happened to cut in.

“This has been a rest spot for mermaid for years. They get legs in the winter to stay warm on land among the people. Then, in spring, they return to sea, we’ll if they do choose. The longer they stay on land, the harder it is to go back to their tails.” She explains, setting down drinks, tucking the tray under her arm.

“Some merfolk opt to stay human and they just, unadapt I suppose. They lose their tails forever.”

Luffy draws back to the stage to realize you’re not there and a panic shoots through him. He grabs the waitresses arm, wondering where you’d gone and she only points to an empty staircase. That’s all it takes for him to jump out his seat and leave his crew behind. He needed to see you. He needed to hear your voice. Feel your hands over his face, tracing his freckles and over his lips.

He wanted his heart to feel as if it somehow spring out his chest when you spoke. Is this what a crush feels like???? He did it know anything about you accept that you’d been kind enough to save him, you were a mermaid, and god were you absolutely beautiful. But, he found himself wanting to know you, and when he wants something, he’s determined to get it.

The light creeking of your door makes you flinch but you turn to see that same man you'd though tof nonstop for the past 6 months. The silence is deafening, your heartbeat ringing n your ears and his does the same.

You swallow dryly, trying to think of something to say but...what is there to say? He steps in, pausing for a moment to search your eyes for protest, but you only encourage it with a step forward.

"You look different when you’re not drowning." You joke poorly, seeing him slile.

"So do you when im not busy trying to breathe underwater.” He laughs, seeing you smile in response.

[a-lurking-fae]

It's 7 in the morning but I HAD TO WRITE THIS DOWNNN

What if Fontainian!Reader + A/B/O dynamics + ill reader?? But the reader isn't an omega, no. They'd be a beta, and as we know, betas aren't that suseptive to pheromones at all, some not even noticing it.

In a family filled with strong Alphas, a simple beta is just... there? A weak beta that's quite out of place, are you really sure you belong there?

You don't notice how people run from you. They're scared of you for some reason? You don't notice the furious pheromones of your family when someone tells you you're a stain.

Whenever Bruce lectures you, that's the only time you actually talk to him. You don't know that he as been emmiting pheromones that literally scream "It's ok." or "Don't be scared."

No. He's straight up intimidating, he doesn't know you can't smell pheromones, he never really took the time to know you. You could've been an omega and he would even know. So you think he's super angry!

But, apparently Bruce can't help the bitch face and rough tone (っ ͡ ͡º - ͡ ͡º ς). Now if Fontainian reader was sick, I don't mean like terminal diseases from earth— I'm thinking about the abyssal corrosion. If the reader was an adventurer, it wouldn't be a surprise if they ran into the abyss.

But let's add the fact your the Hydro Archon's granddaughter, and the fact that your also the Hydro Dragon's granddaughter! You'd make such a good target, if your cursed, you don't have much to lose anymore.

So you pack your bags and leave for Fontaine, leaving the family for good. So you left a note for Alfred, telling him all about your situation. He'd be distressed! Alfred would tell Bruce, convincing him to get you. You were his daughter, why would he leave you to die!

Bruce promised himself that he wouldn't let another of his kids die, but here you were, that thing in your system killing you painfully and slowly.

Bruce knows about Teyvat, that's where your mother was from. He never met your grandparents, he'd like to know them now. The family faces another problem though, how do they get there?

Dick would skimm through your journals and diary, trying to find any clues on how to to you. But you've written it in another language, something that never existed in earth. And if you were well-versed in most languages in Teyvat, you guys know that when your super angry, sometimes you speak in all of them.

So instead of Tim and Barbara finding a pattern in your stuff, it's filled with multiple mixes of mysterious languages. Any progress would end up with another dead end.

Duke is absolutely happy, the both of you were the same age! Basically twins, both your birthdays a few days apart. You were the only sense of normalcy that he always craved, something most of the fucked-up-and-traumatized family members couldn't do. But when you left, that sense of stability started to fade. He worries about you day-and-night, he hopes that you'll be home soon.

Cass would learn normalcy from you, she was a trained weapon, she didn't have any clue what to do with you. After all, you always did your best to understand and teach her about emotions. She appreciates you a lot. You took care of her when she was sick, bandaged her up when she was injured, and baked her snacks. She wants to experience it with you again.

Damian's family is very much traditional. So he most likely would be angry, how could you leave them? Not only are they capable Alphas, but they're powerful as well. It was your adventuring in that world that got you sick. You should have simply stayed at home. When you get back to the mansion, you'll sit tight until they find a cure.

If it was Nicer!Damian, then he would be angry at himself. He wasn't enough for you to stay in Gotham, he promises that he'll be a better brother. He knows you could die any time there with the abyss and all! He nags Bruce and Tim to find you faster. Motivating them with the fact Teyvat is dangerous, wars there are going on! It was finished, also, Inazuma was far as fuck!

All-in-all, they'd do everything in their power to reach you, so they'd recruit the Justice league, especially Diana. She's well versed in these stuff after all. The Al Ghul's would help too. Checking family records if there were any thing pertaining to Teyvat.

Meanwhile, in Teyvat. You're swimming with the sea otters with Neuvilette and Furina, who took time off to spend time with their grandchild.